What
inspired you to become an author?
I wrote a lot as a kid. I liked telling stories and
it seemed like the surest way to be heard. While I did have my angsty phase,
the thing that really inspires me to write and continue writing is my desire to
entertain people by making them laugh, cry, and think about the world in a new
way.
Do
you write in different genres?
I have yet to write in the same genre more than
once. I like writing in different genres as a way to improve my craft. It can
be a rocky road full of self-doubt, but it’s one of the only ways to improve. Improbables is my first foray into
paranormal romance. I’m sure I screwed up somewhere, but I can always do better
next time. You know, when I cycle back around to give paranormal romance
another go.
If
yes which is your favorite genre to write?
Honestly, paranormal romance. It was a lot of fun
diving into character development as the central arc rather than a consequence
of the action. My previous work tended to focus on pre-existing relationships
with small, parallel arcs that occurred alongside each other. What Improbables allowed me to do was
actually make that growth central to the narrative. While there is action (I
promise), the heaviest lifting is on the relationships between the characters.
Do
you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete?
Improbables
was originally called I’m So Bad at
Paranormal Romance You Guys (You Don’t Even Know). It was only when I
realized I needed to name my supernatural community that I came up with what
would eventually become the title. As funny (and horribly unwieldy) as it would
have been to have kept the original title, it wouldn’t have fit with the
ultimate vision I had of the plot.
To answer your question a bit more directly, then:
in the middle.
What
is your current “work in progress” or upcoming projects?
I’m going to be moving toward writing a sequel to my
second Booktrope release, Washed Hands,
once the semester winds down. After that, I have an idea for a comedic approach
to the apocalypse. It has the same level of self-aware humor that infuses most
of my writing, so here’s hoping it gives a genre swamped with zombies and
grandiose morals of “man is the real
monster” a fresh coat of paint and slightly less irritating self-satisfaction.
Is
there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
In Improbables,
there were a number of character interactions that were very tough to write. I
think I’m a pretty empathetic person, so when I put my characters in situations
that are emotionally raw, it was hard not to try to soften it. That is to say,
despite my misgivings, I had to keep pushing forward even when something made
me feel like any variety of monster. The things that my heroine experiences are
things I never could, and that reality made writing those conversations and
events all the more difficult as I was subjecting someone I created from the
ground up to some very unpleasant things.
I think it was important to me as a person and a
writer. Could I have done better? I’m sure. But I am always learning, and this
was vital for me.
Who
designed the cover of your latest book?
That would be Ashley Ruggirello, cover artist
extraordinaire. You can find her work (and mind) right over here: http://cardboardmonet.com/
I don’t envy her working with me. I’m terrible at
visual design, and trying to explain my initial thoughts for the cover was
probably some horrible nightmare for her. However, she produced my cover, and
it is the best cover. Like, ever.
Do
you have any advice for other writers?
Read. Read a lot. Find authors you enjoy and try to
pick up on what makes them tick and, more importantly, what makes them appeal
to you. When you write, let them guide you, but only guide—you are only
beholden to yourself and your audience. Use other authors’ words as a way to
find your own voice.
Do
you have a song or playlist (book soundtrack) that you think represents this
book?
I listened to a lot of songs while writing Improbables, so naturally there are lots
of tracks that I think go well with individual moments. Here are some
highlights for your listening pleasure:
You should be listening to Marina and the Diamonds’ Immortal during the prologue.
Christmas Day has a certain melancholy vibe,
something best accompanied with Eliza Carthy’s Whispers of Summer.
If you happen to come across a creepy town, then you
should enjoy the haunting Welcome to
Edgewood by Nate Fenwick Smith.
I think the last chapter should be read while
listening to Florence and the Machine’s Shake
it Out. Or Zedd’s Clarity,
although I think that Shake it Out is
a touch more appropriate.
Oh, oh! Syd
Matter’s Obstacles would also be a
good choice! I should probably stop now. Sorry. I just get really excited.
I would love to hear what people think would be good
musical accompaniments. I thoroughly enjoy music, so I appreciate knowing the
kinds of things people associate with the material I’ve written.
Improbables
Jonathan Charles Bruce
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Booktrope
Date of Publication: February 22, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-5137-0653-5
ASIN: B01BH86AWU
Number of pages: 334
Word Count: 107,360
Cover Artist: Ashley Ruggirello
Book Description:
Abigail Wren’s new life fresh out of college is dull, even with her (almost) dream job at the local newspaper. The only real excitement she can get is found between the pages of an endless stream of paranormal romance novels she can’t help but love.
Then, on a snowy night in December, Abigail catches a glimpse of what could only be described as a werewolf. Enamored with the possibility, her investigation leads her to discover a paranormal population—improbables—harmoniously living in the midst of humanity. Between making eyes at a perpetually grumpy werewolf and hanging out with a vampire with a lust for life (and liquor), Abigail’s life takes a shaky step out of the ordinary and into the fantastic.
Just outside of the sleepy town of Whitewater, however, a force of rage is building. Born of hate and delusion, a living cataclysm threatens to devour everyone in its path—human or improbable.
Excerpt from Chapter Three:
The trip back to the office was short and uneventful. Parking her car was also characteristically nondescript. On her way to the front doors, Abigail realized that the entire car ride had been on autopilot. Along with that realization came the panic associated with losing a chunk of one’s precious life to monotony. And along with that came a sudden worry that she might have flattened a child without realizing it.
No. Surely that would have been memorable—right?
Right in the middle of a panicked mental recap of the events from picking up her book to arriving in the parking lot, she slammed face-first into a surprisingly warm wall of a person. She rebounded, only now taking in the red-and-black flannel shirt she had plowed into. Her hands shot out in an attempt to keep balance. A moment later, she felt someone’s hands on her forearms.
“Easy there,” came a gruff voice. Pulling herself out of her daze, Abigail looked up at the person she had run into, who was now also, kindly enough, keeping her upright. He was scruffy, a mop of brown hair bleeding into a full (if short) beard worried with the occasional silver strands. His eyes were an intense green, which, coupled with the red in his shirt, gave his appearance an unintentionally festive look. He was pale, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, considering Abigail had forgotten what the sun looked like in the weeks she’d been calling the Pacific Northwest home.
He was cute. In a ruggedly handsome way. Like a grizzled lumberjack.
Perhaps cute was not the word for it.
Abigail giggled, suddenly overtaken with the silliness of what just happened. “Thank you,” she said, certain she was coming across like an idiot. “You can let go now.” She smiled. The man obliged, returning a tight-lipped smile that seemed to err on the side of suffering-the-eccentric.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to…” he began before clearing his throat, “exist where you wanted to exist at the same time.” He looked every bit as awkward as she felt, which made her own discomfort slightly less overbearing.
She swallowed sheepishly. “It happens.” She suddenly felt the need to clarify what she meant, so she gestured back and forth between the two of them. “Existing at the same time and all.” She realized that the gesture didn’t seem to quite work in the situation, so she let her hand fall at her side as she averted her gaze.
“Try as we might!” he said with an exaggerated shrug. They exchanged unconvincing laughs before silence filled the void, mutated into a pause, then sat long enough to be uncomfortable. While the quiet was maliciously evolving, Abigail couldn’t help but trace her eyes up the man’s exposed and muscular forearms. When she caught what she was doing, she wondered where her unintentional partner’s eyes were glued—no doubt, here was another person in Whitewater who would take any opportunity to drink in the sight of the newest and blackest resident.
Instead, she was a little shocked—and pleased—to see he was staring at the ground. He was legitimately embarrassed for slamming into her. In the city, if someone ran into you it was either a pickpocketing or just a nonstandard and jostly hello. In her hometown, it had been met with an impertinent huff and followed by a subpar apology. Here… well, if this was the first, being bumped into was hardly the worst way to get to know someone.
Hey, mountain man Joe, why don’t we walk into each other in front of a coffee shop some time? she thought. This Whitewater-only pickup line seemed dopey enough to be charming enough to work—and she couldn’t help snickering at the thought.
“What’s so funny?” he asked. She looked up at his eyes which had made a momentary migration to her face.
The smile from her laughter remained unbroken, but grew a touch larger. “Nothing, just, uh…” She gestured to her temple. “I’m hilarious up here, trust me.”
He tilted his head back, enough to give her a full look at what she assumed was post-embarrassment face-saving stoniness. He nodded. “Sorry again.” And with that, he brushed aside her, carrying some intense body heat with him, and walked away. She looked over her shoulder at the man, watching him for a few seconds. Something registered as odd, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Regardless of what it was that presently pricked at her brain, she shook it off. She had spent weeks feeling exasperated when people felt they were privileged enough to stare at her like a lab specimen; she wasn’t too keen on forcing that behavior on someone else.
No matter how green his stupid sexy eyes were.
She turned around to the glass doors and jolted at the sight of Lacy Renault, the woman in charge of business coverage. A tiny woman in her fifties with short-cropped silver hair, she watched Abigail come in with icy blue eyes and a gotcha-smile. She wore an immaculately tailored red business suit, giving her the appearance of a circa 2008 female presidential candidate.
Abigail stepped into the vestibule, grateful for the limited respite it provided from the elements. “Were you watching that the whole time?” she asked, trying not to look too confused by Lacy’s grin. The expression was becoming a bit too knowing for her tastes.
“You running into Collins?” She asked. She opened her eyes widely, teasingly, and nodded. “Oh, my, yes!”
Abigail shrugged. “Something I should know?”
Lacy gave an embellished frown. “No, no. Just, uh…” She trailed off in the way people do when overstressing a manufactured difficulty with words. “Glad to see you’re taking in the sights.”
Well, this conversation immediately failed the Bechdel Test, Abigail thought icily.
About the Author:
Jonathan Bruce began writing what amounted to terrible Star Trek: The Next Generation fan fiction when he was four… provided that you accept that “forcing other people to write what he said” is the same thing as “writing”. Although the original manuscripts are lost (or perhaps destroyed), we can rest assured that his prose has improved significantly since then. After high school, he began writing and directing plays which gradually improved depending on whom you ask. He discovered his love of a good fight scene after writing a Dracula knock-off which took a 19th century classic and made it less about Victorian yearning and 300% more about stabbing things in the jugular.
He has a Master’s Degree in History, thanks largely to his thesis focusing on MUSIC, a Milwaukee-based school desegregation campaign during the 1960’s. He also enjoys discussing/making fun of pop culture of the 20th century and reading books of a non-historical nature. In his off moments, you can catch him writing for fun or making inane movies about nothing in particular.
2 comments:
Thank you so much for the interview!
Thank You for sharing today!!
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