An interview with author, Karl Larsen!

Where are you from? 

Originally, I grew up in Irmo, SC which is just outside of Columbia. The little ol' town of Mebane, NC served as my second hometown during my teenage years. I've also lived in Greensboro, NC and Lexington, SC but that doesn't count. I live in Columbia now.

What inspired you to write your first book?

The inspiration for my book came from a number of things. At the age of 25, I had gone through some major ups and downs that led to the discovery of a forgotten passion--writing. It was something I had always enjoyed all through school but never tried to pursue it. Then I thought… "if I can write a book I can do anything." Strangely, that's worked ever since.

Very inspiring! Do you write full-time or part-time? How do you balance your writing life with your family/work life? 

I write in my free time. I’ve started a few new projects that will allow me to explore different avenues like film, public art, and journalism. My job allows me the time it takes to sit down and engage if I'm feeling it. It’s a wonderful balance. I love it.

What jobs have you held that influence your stories?   

My first job ever was at a Quizno's Sub. I was just out of high school. I didn’t make much money but I ate pretty good and my friends always ate free! After bailing college, I worked in retail management for a couple years holding various positions in a large home improvement store. I can’t lie. It was hell. I wasn't for me. The jobs you hold certainly influence the way you live your life. In my case, they set the stage for scenes from my book.

Do you have a specific writing style?

Many who know me have told me I write exactly how I speak. "Raw" is what I hear the most. Whatever that means… Writing, to me, is the best way to express myself. When speaking, I stumble through words in certain situations but writing just seems to come naturally, and I'm able to say exactly what I mean and exactly how I mean it.

How did you come up with the title?

"W a n t.", the title of my first book was inspired by the word itself. 'Want', its definition, and its misuse left me searching for answers, not just about the word, but my life, why I wasn’t pursuing my dreams. In turn, my life began to flourish. My title is tattooed across my forearm; not for marketing, but to serve a constant reminder to never settle. It also makes for a great conversation starter. ;)

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

Without getting to crazy about the topic… basically, in a nutshell: Always pay attention to your desires. Follow your passions. Create something. You will never go wrong.

Great message! How much of the book is realistic?

All of it!

Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?

My books is a combination of life events growing up a lost, passionless boy searching for a calling, itching to define myself and my a philosophy built on a concept of the word ‘want‘ and redefining it by positive actions. It wasn't until I put it all together did I know I had the material for a book. The end of my story is left wide open. 

I think I've just written a book. What now?

What books have most influenced your life most?

I can’t say that there is a stack of books that exists that inspired me to create my own. “The Hidden Power” by Thomas Troward blew my mind psychologically and redirected my thoughts and energy in a new direction which ultimately, led me exploring different ways of expressing myself. I never set out to write a book. It just came with inspiration. I just so happened to harness and capture a moment at the right time. It was perfect timing!

I will have to look that book up! If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor? 

My own father is a writer and has always been a great mentor, especially when it comes to writing. I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree... I hate that saying and I really don't like apples.

What book are you reading now?

Facebook. No, really...

Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?

K. Nycole Lee, duh. 

Why thank you! I'm quite honored! What are your current projects?

I’ve got a few projects in the pot but will require full-time dedication and I just don’t have that at the moment. Right now, my energy and excitement are directed toward public art projects. I also dedicate most of my extra time giving back to my city through community service. These are passions that have stemmed from my work.

Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members. 

All of my family have been super supportive in my decision to write so they're always #1. Honestly, my friends in both North and South Carolina have really come through for me in so many ways. Whether it’s buying the book, promoting it, or helping me with events, I couldn’t have gotten my name or book out there without them. I'm also fortunate to live and work in a community that supports the arts. My work has been embraced. From book signings to radio time, countless organizations and local businesses have been there for me! I am very thankful that! Wait, that was two…

That's great that you have such a solid support system. Do you see writing as a career?

In a sense, yes. For now, my goal is to still get my message out in as many ways possible. I’m not so much about my book but more about what do with it and what I can do to grow and promote the message, and not so much a product. 

If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?

Not a single thing. Since it’s my life on paper, it’s exactly the way it should be. It’s a timestamp. I can always look back at those moments and smile knowing I captured it. 

Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

It’s funny you ask that. While writing my final chapter, I found myself reflecting on that very question. It actually took some digging to answer. In elementary school, my class was given a writing assignment and entered into a school-wide contest. The topic was how to change the world. Though I can’t remember exactly what I wrote about, I remember winning and having to read my story over the intercom to the entire school during the morning announcement! It's crazy because its exactly what my book is about: changing the world. Ironic? 

I think not.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

Nope. That’s top secret. ;)

Oh, I see. We are intrigued by the mystery! Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

I have the attention span of a gnat so staying focused is extremely difficult. Besides that, depending on the topic, most of my writing seems  to flow effortlessly. I just let it out and let my wonderful editing genius pick me apart until I get it right. She won't get this interview so I'm sure I'll get an earful once she reads it.

Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work? 

Favorite author? I've never really been an avid reader. I just don't have the time or the attention for it. Tell you what though… R.L. Stine killed it in the Goosebumps series. Those stories scared me to death as a kid. I'd do anything to have the entire collection again.

Ha! I remember reading those as well. Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?

I save my traveling for fun.

Who designed the covers?

Believe it or not, I've designed my own covers. When I have visions in my head, I rarely trust others with my ideas, in fear they won’t be able to duplicate what’s in my head. I try and try until I get it just right. I know with a little time and patience, I can make it happen. 

Excellent! Your cover is quite impressive and grabs the readers attention. What was the hardest part of writing your book?

EDITING. I'd be nothing without my editor! 

I couldn't agree more, editing is very important. Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

Absolutely! As I wrote, I learned things about myself I don't think I would have ever learned if I wouldn't have taken the time to figure it all out and write it down. It's taught me patience, and has given me the strength and inspiration to accomplish anything. My book and message are embedded in every waking thought and action. I must live what I've created.

Do you have any advice for other writers? 

Nothing specifically for writers. For anybody pursuing a passion: It doesn't matter what is: music, literature, art, whatever. Always do your best and never half-ass when it comes to your work. Also, be sure to find time EVERY SINGLE DAY to work on your projects whether it's a paragraph, illustration, promoting. Don't lose steam and don't be lazy. You'll thank yourself later.

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?

Thank you.

What were the challenges (research, literary, psychological, and logistical) in bringing it to life?

Basing a book on a word and its origin can sometimes be very tedious. The research was intense. I remember spending countless hours in the library piecing together the timeline and the etymology of a word that's hundreds of years old. I wanted to give up. On top of that, building a philosophy and new definition for it, well… yeah. When it finally came together, it was the greatest relief in the world.

What do you think about e-publishing versus technical publishing? 

Personally, I'm not a fan. Nothing beats the feel of a physical book. At least, thats what I've been told by most readers or as one told me, "You can't sign my Kindle. I want a book!"

Very true. I don't think I'll ever stop adding to my physical library! So, Mr. Larsen, do you have an agent or publisher? How did you go about finding one? 

Nope. I'm happily self-published. There was no doubt in my mind that it was the way to go. It's given me the freedom to let my project grow beyond the book and has kept me humble. The struggles are there but I embrace them. At the end of the day, I'm not out to make money. I'm not out to have fans or followers. Every book I sell is a personal transaction, signed and shipped by me. I prefer it that way.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

Australia. Need I say more?

If you could have any super power, what would it be?

Who is to say I don't already possess one?

Thank you for such an excellent interview! I'd love to know what your super power is...but I understand the need for secrecy ;) -K.N. Lee

For more on Karl Larsen:

 http://wantthebook.com/

 Twitter.com/KarlLLarsen

Facebook.com/WantTheBook

 

 

Review of The Education of Lilanoir Rue by, Morgan Jane!

The Education of Lilanoir Rue is an excellent prequel to Morgan Jane's upcoming Sanguis City series! I thoroughly enjoyed this fantastical short story about a girl named Lily. The story is set in a post-apocalyptic world where humans live on reservations and vampires have taken over. The imagery is brilliant and the story is fast paced. Honestly, I wish it was longer, but alas, it is a short story and meant to elicit the readers interest in the full length novel!

Even thought the author alludes to the fact that Lily isn't a normal human, she doesn't reveal too much of her abilities or differences. I appreciated this, because it definitely added to the suspense! What we do learn is that she has super human strength, she's fast, and has fangs. I cannot wait to find out what happens next and find out what happened to her love interest, Crow!

 Available on Amazon

For More on Author, Morgan Jane:

Twitter 

Website

Writing Challenge with Author, Karl Larsen!!

The Challenge:
In 2000 words or less, write about an issue that you are passionate about. Be creative, make a story, or an essay, poem...whatever you choose! This is your chance to showcase your skills to readers!
 

The Result :

The Day I Asked Myself the RIGHT Question

 Karl Larsen

The day I asked myself the right question just so happened to be the day I unearthed the most unexpected of passions. In the spring of 2010, while blazing my own path as an inexperienced writer, I found myself pecking at my laptop, for hours on end, as if it were my job. In reality, it was my job. Writing had been something I had always loved to do, but simply never did. At the time, inspiration was all around me and, once again, writing emerged as an escape from myself. But this time, it was different, and so was my material. My thoughts and feeling about my life and the events I had overcome paved the way for a new kind of thinking. For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to revisit the dark secrets from my past that had since been long ignored, trying to make sense of my life and what was next for me, uncovering vital components in my search for inner peace, future success and an as-yet undiscovered passion. It wasn't long before a collection of ideas, thoughts and recordings became something much, much bigger. My soon-to-be book was more than my job; it was my life.

I often wrote from the comfort of my own home. It definitely had its perks. Days when the weather was nice were the worst. Those were the days I'd gaze out my sliding glass door into the back yard which was canopied by large oak and pine trees. I loved nothing more than spending my day outside, so being cooped up in the house often drove me stir-crazy. Days when focusing on my work was impossible, another escape was needed —an escape FROM my escape. Having the attention span of a gnat didn't help either. To get away and recollect, I'd seek refuge on one of the many paved walkways that weave and tunnel through my neighborhood and wooded areas. There, I'd relax and piece together my next entry or go into deep thought about the world and the meaning of life. I wasn't far into my project when the effects of what I was writing began to toy with my reasoning. I still had yet to understand and harness the ideas tumbling around in my head, one of which just so happened to be the topic of passion. I had yet to find it.

Late that spring, while walking, a candy bar wrapper blew into the creek alongside the walking path. Before it could be washed away, I quickly veered a couple of feet, reached down and picked it up. A trashcan wasn't but fifty feet away, just around the bend. I continued walking, scanning the ground for litter scattered along the path. Let's just say, it was more than I wanted to carry. At this point, focusing on anything but litter was nearly impossible! A feeling came over me in a way I couldn't ignore. Who was overdue for a good deed? This guy. So I turned back to the house, grabbed some gloves and a shopping bag, to spruce up the area. While in search for anything glass, paper, plastic or aluminum, the more I saw, the more I picked up, and the more I picked up, the further I went. In less than ten minutes, my bag was full and I wasn't even five minutes from my home! I thought to myself, “Maybe the issue was bigger than I realized…” Little did I know what was in store for me.

Later that week, I visited the local big box home improvement store to purchase a "picker-upper-grabby-thingy." At least, that's what I always called them. The plastic shopping bags I had hoarded and stuffed into a cabinet in my kitchen for no particular reason would suffice for this mission. Without planning to venture too far from the house, bags upon bags were stuffed. I was amazed. Too scared to venture out onto the main boulevard from which my road fed — the challenge frightened me — I didn't try. A month or so passed. I kept writing, still contemplating whether or not to take on the challenge of one of the busiest boulevards in town. I traveled down it multiple times a day. With my eyes now opened to all the debris, it was disgusting, to say the least.

Soda and beer cans rested in the gutter along the curb. Plastic bags blew in the wind. Shards of glass and aluminum sparkled in the medians. Plastic bottles rolled across the street, and paper took refuge in the wooded areas along the heavily traveled mini interstate. What was I up against? One of the largest shopping areas in the state just a half-mile away, a major interstate and two more boulevards come together in my community. Countless big box retailers, drive-through restaurants, banks, gas stations, hotels, movie theaters, car dealerships, strip malls, churches, apartments and even a theme park — all surrounding one massive mall. And all of it spilled into my community of about 500 houses and a couple of apartment complexes. This wasn't going to be easy. The big question was whether or not I could do it all on my own.

I remember getting angry at the fact that people would commit such a thoughtless act as littering. It just didn't make sense to me. Directing my anger at the city and the non-profits who supposedly had programs in place to deal with the issue, or so I thought, didn't solve anything. I asked myself, over and over again, "Why isn't anybody doing anything about this?" One day I finally asked myself the right question: "Why am I not doing anything about it?" And from that moment on, it became a personal goal to single-handedly change my community. I didn't want help. I didn't need an organization, committee or group of volunteers. I just needed to do it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it and, even more so, prove the power of one. So that's what I did. Sixteen heavy-duty trash bags later, I had completed my mission. Feeling accomplished, I knew my work was far from over. To keep from having this ever happen again, I got in contact with a local non-profit organization that allowed me to continue doing this under their umbrella. Not long after, it was official. I had adopted a section of highway. The signs are up and dedicated to my now-finished book, W a n t.

For the last year and a half, it may be safe to say that I've made a difference in my community. It's visible. Once a week, I set time apart from my schedule to do my duty as a citizen of my city, county and state. I've gone off the beaten path, picking up in wooded areas, residential areas, parking lots, creeks, ponds, you name it. I've traveled to other cities to help others with their Adopt-A-Highway efforts in hopes of keeping it going. Just recently, I implemented plans to take my project to the next level by creating, designing and instituting a citywide campaign to restore my city's beauty and amplify its potential. My vision is to push my city and state into the forefront of beautification and pride, and it all starts from the ground up.

This is my passion. And this is only the beginning. Honestly, I owe it all to my book. Without it, I can't be sure that I would have found this passion or any other love. Passion is inside of all of us, waiting to be captured and harnessed. If we step back and take a quick glance at what we're NOT doing as opposed to what we are doing, the answer will always present itself. The power of one can change the world — even if it's one word at a time. As much as I love this challenge, I have realized I must cut myself short, for I must prepare for yet another big challenge. I'm meeting with the mayor in less than 48 hours from now about my project so I must sign off. Thank you, for this wonderful opportunity.

 For More on Karl Larsen:

WantTheBook.com

Twitter.com/KarlLLarsen

Facebook.com/WantTheBook

Body Double- Writing Prompt/Short Story

You wake up and get ready for the day. You walk downstairs and see yourself lying on the couch...asleep. What do you do?

 Response by author, Lawrence BoarerPitchford:

Carl realized he was standing in the hall. The dark seemed to close in around him, and the dim unearthly orange glow of the hallway lamp made the scene even creepier. There was a crack in the wall, outlined in a sharp purple light. He approached it, and realized it was a doorway in the solid stone wall of the hall. He’d live his whole life in this house, and he'd never seen a doorway, secret or otherwise in this hallway. He reached for the edge and pulled, and the wall slid open to reveal a broken hallway filled with a black light. Looking down, the white, fluffy rabbit slippers he wore glowed brightly under the illumination. A strange feeling was climbing up his spine; don’t go in there. But, Carl had rarely listened to that inner voice, and for the most part turning a deaf ear had served him well. He stepped through, turned and realized the doorway was gone.



A filthy wall, covered in white tiles glowed brightly. The hallway was from the floor to chair-railing covered in peeling green paint, and it covered the doors that lined the hallway too. Above him bare bulbs hung from the high ceiling and slowly moved from side to side. He moved down the hallway, and came to a set of double doors with a small glass window cut into each side. He looked through and could see a wide room with tiled walls, and a bright light shining down. Several creatures stood in the room, all of them wearing dull green smocks and surgical masks.



He pushed the door and slipped in. His curiosity was overriding all common sense. The creatures looked bipedal, and almost human, but they were not human. One of the things mumbled something in a very low tone, and another handed it a shiny metal tool. Carl approached and now could see a human shape under a white sheet on a table. Straps were over the limbs, and he came around to see a wide eyed human male look on in horror. Carl’s heart raced, and his own eyes went wide at the sight. The person was being cut open, while awake, his mouth covered with some material clearly preventing his screams from being heard in the room.



One of the creatures turned and looked at Carl. It pulled its mask down. Carl stepped back in shock, for the face of the monster had smooth features, with no nose, sunken eyes, and a plain mouth. There was no pity in those eyes, and Carl knew they would do to him what they were doing to that poor fellow. Now, common sense kicked in and he turned and ran for the door. His legs were growing heavy as he ran. “Halt,” he heard from behind.



Carl bolted through the doors and ran down the hallway. He tried to see where a crack of light might be. He ran, and his legs were slowing. Glancing over his shoulder he saw two monsters come through the double doors. They had shiny metal hooks, and they were coming for him. He put his head down and ran harder, forcing his legs to work. As he came to a corner, he saw a glimmer of white light at seam by some rotted molding along the wall. Clawing at it, he forced it to open and stumbled out into the hallway of his home. Shoving the door closed, he heard the creatures behind the wall as they passed, then the doorway shut, and he was alone.



Crumpling to the floor he sobbed for a moment, but not for himself, for the person he left behind in that place. Climbing to his feet, he moved down the hallway to the stairs, then saw that the light was on down below. He took hold of the railing and walked down. At the bottom he looked into the library and saw the door was open. Approaching, he peeked around the corner and saw someone on the couch. The smell of dust and old books assailed his nose. The person was snoring, then he realized it was he who snored.



Carl came awake with a start. He looked around. It was dark, and he was in his soft bed. Sweat was on his arms and face. He exhaled, chuckled and reached for the light switch. “Foolish old sot!” he said out loud, and turned on the light. In his mind he was thinking of making a pot of tea, and getting a few biscuits to tide him over until breakfast… but when the light came on, a creature with smooth features, no nose, and sunken eyes was standing there with a hypodermic syringe and needle.



“We’ll have you back where you belong in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” it said.