Welcome to my mountain, Frank. There’s a Jello Cheesecake on the table and you brought the coffee. We should get started before my hat wears off…I mean before it gets too late. Don’t mind that anvil dangling from the string. It’s safe, really. Could you start out by telling me when the implant was put in your head? Was it in 98? Tell us a little more about that.
Yes, the motor vehicle accident was in 1998. Allow me to present the case in a story problem . . .A Mitsubishi Eclipse is traveling toward me at sixty-five MPH, and my own Buick Skyhawk is traveling at forty-five MPH. What is the combined speed of the head-on collision?Answer: fast enough to nearly break me in half and give me a closed-head injury (which means my skull really is that hard–it did not fracture).
Two and a half weeks in the hospital later, and I was the proud owner of this spiff piece of implant hardware. It allows me to do many things of which normal humans are not capable, like electronic remote control, and this . . . see how the anvil rises and falls? I have electromagnetic abilities. I only tried to use my powers on a microwave oven once though–the sparks showered ten meters. But you should see me play on a wii!
So you are saying you are not a crack-head but a rock-head? <Frank nods> Good! Here at NAF, we do like the rock-heads.
So this implant altered everything? I’ve done a little research and I see you have had a game created by Mike Roop to go along with Flashpoint and War of Attrition. An RPG? Tell my readers where they can get a copy, please. And tell me how the game and the books have helped you and your implant.
Yes, the implant somehow helps me write my fiction, and the thing seems to be powered by good reviews of my fiction, or when books sell. One book that I did not write is Join the Underground: The Role Playing Game, available ***HERE*** It was created by RPG designer Mike Roop, but when it sells copies, my implant also gets a boost. In Join the Underground Gamers are whisked away to a future where one can only live their faith openly by hiding from authorities and joining a resistance movement where their every action has consequences.So before the brain implant, I was always writing myself into corners. That can still happen but it’s now a lot easier to write my way out again. It’s as if the whole brain injury was a gift from God. Maintenance on the implant is all done with prayer. By the way, I do not recommend that aspiring writers go out and get their own closed-head injury!
Novelist Sue Dent used to be published by my editor and wife, Cynthia Mackinnon. This photo was taken while visiting with Sue in the French Quarter of New Orleans. I became the coat-rack for a pink feather boa purchased during the trip. At least I thought that’s what happened. From what you’ve said, I may be afflicted by some unknown disease and have been attributing its symptoms to my implant. Perhaps you could tell me more. I just hope I don’t start attending barn raisings!
Let me guess…that is what you were told happened? My guess is you only have a hazy recollection. This is enhanced by the picture and maybe your wife’s telling, but it is an illusion, Frank. It is very similar to Mindware tech that has short circuited. There is a cure.
Have you noticed that I have offered you cheesecake twice now? There is a reason. I know you will not eat it. Your implant will not allow it.
<fingers let go of anvil string>
I am sorry, Frank. There was no other way to save you. The empty spots should be filling in. Your head will itch from the wrinkling. It will ache from the anvil.<blushes> Can you hear me, Frank? Tell me what you remember. I won’t tell anyone. <crosses fingers>
<shakes head> Well, kudos to a job well done. Calamity Kid here like a genie from a bottle, pleased to meetcha. It took an anvilanche, but I’m glad you got rid of that mental lightweight–good thing he’s so hard-headed. <shakes head again and rubs scalp> You see what I have to live with? Great guns, the dimwit even ignored your cheesecake! <CK helps himself> I was dying over here!
Welcome, CK. Glad you could…um…join me. You obviously heard the question I asked Frank. <points to plate> That cheesecake will give our boy more time but he must have real cheesecake and he must have it everyday. His wife must be treated as well. Please, tell me about the pink feather boa. Surely, you know it is a sign of a literary zombie.
The boa is a sign of somethin’ all right. <slurps coffee and speaks around a big bite of cheesecake> There’s a couple of theories about Creed and his blessed implant. Some say that through it he absorbs power or energy or something whenever his fiction is read, touched, or even on blog tour. The cheesecake <holds up a forkful of cheesecake before stuffing it into his mouth> has been likened to a medicine that counteracts the implant’s effects.
I, however, believe that Creed’s problem is all ego. <gestures with his fork> He can’t get enough of himself. The pompous slag has been known to check Amazon’s rankings all day to see how many books have sold. We’ll see if the cheesecake has an effect on him. I hope it does, ‘cause he’s going to drive me battier than the bat cave. I’m just gonna help myself to another piece here . . . for medicinal purposes, you know.
Aww…don’t be too hard on Frank. He really can’t help himself. The implant takes over, and as you can see in the picture, he does foolish things. Do you honestly think he would allow a picture if he had been in his right mind? No, Frank is a victim as much as anyone that reads his words.
<hands CK a vial>
Do me a favor, CK. When you both get home to Canadia, slip a few drops of this into the coffee pot each day. <Ck’s brow raises> It’s concentrated cheesecake extract. After a week, you should see a drastic withdrawal from Amazon stalking.
Literary Zombieism can be fatal if not treated. Frank could very well stop writing if he only stalks Amazon and Barnes and Noble. And that would be a tragic loss to the world.
It was nice meeting you CK, but I need Frank back so we can say goodbye. Another snow storm is moving in and I know Cynthia will worry if Frank is late.
If you want Frank back, try dropping that thing on his head again. I think you and I both enjoy it when that happens anyway, no?
Frank? Can you hear me?You look a little pale. Just sit still for a minute. Old age does that sometimes. I was saying that it has been a real pleasure having you as a guest on my mountain. When you have your head pulled together, I’ve boxed a cheesecake for you to take home to Cynthia.
Would you like to share any last words with my readers before you head north?
Wow! <Straightens up in chair> That hanging sculpture of yours really isn’t safe. <feels head gingerly> What a Calamity, I think I have a lump. The anvil didn’t leave a mark, did it? <combs hair with fingers>
Uh, yeah thanks for the cheesecake, and . . . last words . . . thanks for taking the time to have me on. Just thinking about seeing the inteview posted makes me feel way better. Remember, y’all, fiction readers want to have fun. If I can make a dystopian setting light-hearted, anything is possible!
Well that it is for today. What a blast. I hope you all leave a comment for a chance to win War of Atrrition. The winners will be announced on Tuesday, February 15th. It is an excellent read. And honestly, any man that can make it through an Anvil Interview is super cool.
You can find Frank all over the place. Here are several of those places…
Whew! My fingers are tired.
Kerry Nietz can be found…
Ellen Maze can be found…
Fred Warren can be found…
Peace, love and God’s will