Katya is eighteen in Tainted Amber. She’s all grown up. She’s independent. She’s naïve and a bit insecure; tenacious and curious. I am my mother’s daughter and in the compost pile of my writer’s mind, our lives become one. While it’s her stories that I’m reducing, reusing and recycling, it's my imagination that feeds them. The result? Tainted Amber. A love story created from the leftovers of my shared experiences with her.
Perhaps I spent too many years reading books and writing critical essays during my university years. Dead authors don’t care about my critiques and I explored, with honest intentions, how the characters dealt with their relationships and how they interpreted the events in their novel world. I loved digging in between the lines of my favourites like Heinrich Böll, Robert Musil or the short stories of Gabriele Wohmann. But I digress.
Writing a book and getting it traditionally published, in today’s competitive world, is a miracle. It’s a success story, no matter what a niggly reviewer might say.
If I ever come across too harshly in a review, I want to apologize in advance. Never take what I say too seriously . . . and never take it personally. I like being the devil’s advocate. I like controversy. I like a conversation. I don’t like cheerleading.
That said, Rah, Rah, Rah. Canadian writers amaze me with their fascinating stories. Never stop! We're a small community here in Canada and we need all the support we can get.
Like Thumper said in the Bambi movie: If you don't have somthin' nice to say, don't say nuthin' at all.
Ah, so much for the energy of controversy.
We're a tenacious, curious bunch, us fiction authors. We find power in words . . . mere marks on a page. Lives past, present or future. All from our imagination. We've got to be crazy. God knows we can't help ourselves.
We'd have it no other way. Thank you, Ronsdale!
Mom was into reducing, reusing and recycling long before it became trendy. Clothes were patched and re-patched. Nothing was thrown out. Dres...