AUTHOR INTERVIEW with JA SOUDERS!!

Yep, the book is still delayed. I'm hoping it'll be out sometime this week though.

Whenever it hits, you can count on me to inform you immediately as I am nothing if not a shameless self promoter.

In the meantime, I did an author interview with the indomitable JA Souders over on her blog! She's a true pro, a talented writer, and a grade a interviewer.

My interviewee skills however are still in question.

You'll get some information on the book, a little on me, and a heaping handful of my well documented "quirk."

Enjoy.

CLICK HERE!

She can also be found on Facebook here!

Steven

BOOK DELAYED A SMIDGE - HERE'S THE DEAL

So it seems the book is a wee bit late in getting where it's supposed to get - which admittedly sucks.

However we're going to take this lemon and make ourselves a little lemonade!

Sound good? Of course it sounds good.

The delay give you yet another chance to get something free.

What I want you to do is keep an eye on - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/

You know, go there every few hours search for me, or the the title, or whatever and the minute the book pops up copy and paste the link then drop it in an email and send it to me at - novakillustration@yahoo.com

The first email I get with a valid link not only gets the book for free, but gets it autographed as well.

If that's not some sugary, tangy, delicious lemonade I don't know what is.

If you're too lazy to do any of this, no worries. I will undoubtedly be bombarding you with messages of some sort the moment the book arrives.

CONTEST WINNER!

Well, the contest for not only a free but autographed copy of “Forts: Fathers and Sons” has officially concluded, and a winner chosen.

First off, let me just offer up a HUGE amount of thanks to everyone that entered.
The submissions were good – maybe too good. Scratch that, they were far too good. In fact, they were so good that picking one became quite impossible.

The decision making progress made “Sophie’s Choice” seem about as difficult as trying to figure out where to eat dinner by comparison.

I kid you not.

Some of you opted to go the sympathy route…

“…because I am a poor elementary teacher who may be jobless and can't afford to buy books! “

This is undeniably a quality approach. At the same time however it banks on the fact that behind my gruff exterior I’m really just an ol’ softy. Those of you going this route rolled the dice. In truth might just be a big ol’ jerk. Maybe there’s just darkness, and slime, and festering puss filled boils where my heart should be.

Others decided their best chance of success was to butter me up…

“…I really, really want a free copy of "Forts" because I want to get a better idea of the inner workings of the genius who is married to Tami.”

Calling me a “genius.” If that’s not buttering me up I don’t know what is. Admittedly this seems like the most obvious approach. I enjoy a good ego stroking as much as the next guy. Or do I? Maybe compliments make me uncomfortable? Maybe my brain is as black as my puss-boil-heart and I’d almost prefer being ridiculed?

Thus bring us to this approach…

“…because I am too damn cheap to buy a copy. That’s it…I'm also too damn lazy to write anymore reasons.”

I call this one the angry man. While on first glance you might not think it’s the most logical choice. If you know anything about me though, you know that I myself am a bit of an “angry man.” I’m also sort of lazy. It takes some research and a hefty set of scones to go this route.

There were of course a few completely bizarre submissions…

"…fish can't fly, and I'm terrible at pinochle."

Those choosing to go this option obviously know I’m a weirdo and played to those sensibilities. There’s a high chance of success here.

Some opted to flat out threaten me…

“…if I don't Chuck Liddel has promised to kick your ass, and to make matters worse he won't even let you video it to show anyone and then we will spread the rumor that your wife kicked the s&*t out of you while you were wearing ballerina shoes and granny panties.”

Interesting way to go – scaring me into giving away free stuff – I suppose it makes perfect sense on the most basic of levels. At the same time though, there is a flaw in this logic and this submission specifically. You see, I do wear granny panties, but I am not however ashamed of this information getting out.

They’re just more comfortable.

Then there were those that tried to take advantage of my love for the next generation…

“… because, from what I have seen, it will be the most beautifully illustrated story book that I have yet to read to my three children, sure to set their minds racing and inspire their own creativity.”

Do I really love the next generation though?

Some opted for reverse psychology…

“…I've been giving it some thought, and I've decided that I really don't deserve a free copy of your book. I think that you should give a copy to someone who is much more deserving.”

Others broke into a stand-up routine…

“…I was recently threatened with several copies of "Enemy Invaders" and I'm going to need something to hold them at bay."

I have a sinking feeling a few might have been dabbling in mind-altering substances while typing…

“…because, because of the wonderful things you've done, now I'm off to see the wizard & hope he can make my wish come trew of winning your book.”

Though I’ve only listed a few here, there were a lot of entries – a whole lot - all of them good for different reasons. You guys made picking a winner very literally impossible.

I couldn’t do it.

I tried, but I couldn’t.

It’s because of this I opted to get a winner old school roadside barker style.

Yep, I threw the name of every single person into a hat and drew one at random.

Honestly it’s a bit more fair this way anyway, isn’t it?

So who won?

Drum roll please…

No drum?

All right then, screw you.

The winner is Erik Johnson.

His entry?

“…Now, I dont have a sob story for you Novak. My life sucks for various reasons. The least you could do is send me the free f@&$ing book.”

To be honest I might have picked it to win anyway.

Once again, and in all seriousness I’d like to say thanks to everyone that sent an email my way. It was fun sorting through them – lots of fun. I laughed, I cried, I scratched my head and wondered where in the world I met you people. If there was any way whatsoever that I could send each you all a copy I would.

Don’t think for a second that I don’t appreciate each and every word of encouragement and bit of support sent my way, because I do.

I’m hardly deserving of any of it, but I’ll happily accept.

AUTHOR INTERVIEW with LIZ CZUKAS!

I did an author interview with the incomparable, goofy hat wearing Liz Czukas (No, I don't know how to pronounce it either) over on her blog! Despite the hat, she's a heck of a writer and it was a lot of fun.

You'll get some information on the book, a little on me, and maybe some you never wanted.

It was so much fun in fact, that I'll even forgive her for using the wrong cover image.

Maybe.

CLICK HERE!

Liz can also be found on Facebook here!

Steven

100 WORDS - 100 MONSTERS - EPISODE 3

In the world of "Forts" there are a hundred doorways leading to a hundred different worlds. While I won't be able to visit them all over the course of the three books, I thought it might be fun to add to the mythology by sketching up a few alien races on the spot.

Here's the third in the series.

The book is being released Saturday the 20th!

Steve

FORTS SAMPLE CHAPTER - THE PROMISE

Here's a little sample chapter from the upcoming book which is released on March 20th.

Hope you enjoy!

Steven







THE PROMISE

The long white hallway on the fourth floor of the Fairchild Medical Center was mostly empty and rather quiet. Occasionally a nurse or a doctor walked by with their head buried in a set of papers on a clipboard, their shoes clicking against the tile floor with every step. It was night, and with visiting hours coming to an end, most everyone, patients and family alike, had either drifted off to sleep or returned home. On an empty bench near the end of the hallway sat ten-year-old Tommy Jarvis. Too short to reach the floor, his legs swung back and forth over the edge of the bench. His hands rested softly on his lap as he twiddled his fingers quietly, trying his hardest to think about anything other than this place. Behind the door to his right are his mother and father.
For almost a year now his mother had become progressively sicker. At first the trips to the doctor were for small things like high fevers or sore throats or pain in her joints. In the last few months, the trips were more frequent. She was admitted to the hospital three weeks ago, and it was here that she remained. Every night like clockwork his father left him and Nicky with Auntie Carol and go to visit her. On the weekends – like today – he would bring them along. Nicky might be too young to really, truly understand every nuance of what was going on, but Tommy believed the young boy understood the basics of the situation. Their mother was sick, and she wasn’t going to get better.
She was dying.
No doubt Nicky couldn’t make total sense out of the concept of death, but he knew that a time would come very soon when he would never see his mother again.
Tommy looked up as the door to his mother’s room opened; his father stepped out with a sleepy-sad Nicky pulled tightly against his chest. He looked in Tommy’s direction. “Hey buddy…how are you feeling?”
Tommy didn’t know quite how to respond. The idea of summing up everything going on in his head seemed like a task more impossible than anything he had encountered in his young life. He saw no point in trying.
Chris Jarvis gently laid the half-awake Nicky down on the bench next to his older brother, softly brushing the hair from the boy’s eyes. When Chris looked down he noticed his hand was shaking. He could feel a torrent of emotions building up inside him, but forced himself to ignore them. He needed to be strong, even if he wanted so very badly to cry and scream, and denounce his faith in God, the universe, and whatever unseen force was putting his family through this. He wanted to yell at the doctors for not doing more, or curse the nurses for their pointless pitying looks, or simply run away and leave all the sadness and the stress behind, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do any of these things or a number of others. Not in front of his boys, and not now. These were things better left to the nights alone, shrouded in the darkness of his room, spread out across his marital bed with soaking wet eyes. He had to be bigger than that; he had to be better than that, for them – even if it hurt more than he could stand.
After taking a deep breath and wiping away a single tear in the corner of his eye, he knelt down in front of Tommy, gazing into the soft blue eyes of his eldest son. “Hey big man, your mom…your mom wants to see you alone for a minute. Would you like to do that? Are you going to be okay, or do you want your ol’ dad to go with you?”
Tommy noticed the shaking of his father’s hands as well. He spotted the very faint glimmer of wetness, catching the pale glow of the fluorescent lights, in the corner of his eye.
Despite trying so hard, Chris Jarvis could not hide his emotions well.
Tommy wanted badly to see his mother - to hug her and kiss her and hear her tell him that she loves him…and that she will always be there for him…but he knows that isn’t going to happen. Maybe it was the look on his father’s face or the eerie, bordering on downright frightening, silence coming from his mother’s room, but something inside the boy told him that if he went through that door, it would be for the last time. After today he was never going to see her again.
“Well buddy, is that something you think you might want to do? I know your mom would really like to see you.”
Despite his brain telling him to say “no”, Tommy nodded his head yes. He carefully slid off of the bench and moved toward the door to her room.
Gently his father patted him on top of his head, mussing his hair a bit, whispering in a shaky voice, “It’s okay, buddy…everything will be alright.”
Despite his best efforts, Chris Jarvis wasn’t convincing anyone – least of all, himself.
Once he put some distance between his father and him, Tommy heard his father’s voice crack silently as he struggled to keep from breaking down right there on the spot. It was this very tiny, yet extremely telling moment that would stick with Tommy for years afterward, because his father’s voice would never sound the same again. Not only did Chris Jarvis’ voice crack on that day, but his soul did, as well – a crack so deep that it could never be repaired – spreading slowly, until the dam of his emotions shattered completely, devouring everything in its path.
The hospital room was dark, barely lit by the glow of a television set hanging high in the corner, the volume turned all the way down. As Tommy approached his mother’s bed he noticed how small and frail her body looked. The light blue sheet hung over her as if it were resting on a skeleton. Her breathing was labored, her face gaunt, her eyes sleepy, distant and dreamy. She looked far away, almost as if her mind were off somewhere floating above, just barely clinging onto the motionless form that had been left behind, propped up on pillows. Tommy saw her left eye move slowly to the side, independent of her face, as she spotted him standing next to the bed gazing up at her. A weary smile cracked to shape on her worn face, but even the act of smiling seemed a painful experience for her. Her mouth opened as if she wished to speak, but only a puff of air and a gentle hum, just barely a sound, escaped.
Somewhat ashamed at her inability to form sentences, she squinted, focused her mind and tried again, “T…Tommy…ho…how is Mommy’s…s…special little…guy?”
Her hand crawled across the bed sheets like a pale white spider moving toward Tommy. When it arrived at the end of the bed the boy reached up and held onto it gently. He wanted to squeeze it as tightly as he could, but didn’t for fear that it might cause her pain in some way.
“Mommy…is…g…going to go away for a while…bu…I don’t want you…to…ever forget how…much I…I love you…okay, baby?”
The tidal wave of emotions Tommy had been doing his best to keep inside started to make their way out of him in the form of hot liquid now streaming from his eyes. His face instantly grew balmy and tepid, his lip started to quiver uncontrollably and his neck felt wobbly, unable to properly hold the weight of his head. While trying to catch his breath and failing, Tommy looked up at the motionless form that only slightly resembled his mother.
In between deep breaths he did his best to form a sentence, “Bu…but I don’t want you to go.” It wasn’t much, but it’s the best he could manage before breaking down completely.
Megan Jarvis started instantly to weep uncontrollably, as she saw the tears pour from her little boy’s eyes.
She had cried so much over the past year that she found it amazing she had any tears left, “No…no…don’t cry, baby…you need to be strong for Mommy…you…you need to be st…strong.” Using every last ounce of strength buried within her, Megan leaned over the side of the bed, ignoring the incredible pain shooting throughout her body. Reaching down with one hand, she pulled her son toward her.
Tommy moved closer, his face now sobbing into the thin, flower-patterned fabric of her hospital gown.
“This is just part of life To…Tommy. Ju…just another part…” Megan stuttered softly, pulling her first-born’s head away from her shoulder so she could look him directly in the eyes, “All of life is beautiful…all of it. Even…the parts we hate, and even…when it reaches its end.”
Tommy wasn’t completely sure what she meant, but he absorbed her every word like a plant absorbing the life-giving energy of the sun, promising himself that he would never forget even a single one.
“You’re a very special…boy…Tommy Jarvis. I…I…knew from the moment I saw…your tiny little…face. Promise me…promise Mommy that you’ll enjoy life. Promise…me…that you’ll look for its beauty. Promise me, that…you’ll be happy. Promise me…that you’ll do…do…everything that…”
She stopped for a moment, her lips slowly opening as if she is thirsty before continuing, “Promise me that you’ll…that you’ll do everything you think…you can’t…” Her voice had begun to trail off. Her eyes slowly looked away from him toward something she could see that he could not. The hot air softly blowing from her mouth and nose became shorter and colder against Tommy’s skin. Her neck grew looser and her head heavier. Her hands slid off of his face, floating downward, weightless, and landed softly on the sheet covering her body.
Tommy climbed onto her bed, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her shoulder once again. Deeply he breathed in the smell of her hair, relishing it as it floated into his brain.
In between fits of tears, he whispered softly into her ear, “I Promise.”

FORTS: A Little Background, and What to Expect

With book one in the “forts” series due out in just a couple weeks, and book two tentatively scheduled for sometime later in the year I thought I might type up a little something to give you an idea of what to expect.

I personally think the trailer is cooler than Steve McQueen in “The Getaway,” or a beat up Arnold in the chopper after he finished throwing dukes with the Predator, or even Cool Coolerson moments after winning the “National Cool Competition” in Coolsville U.S.A.

He edged out Coolton McCool for the title.

Honestly though, beyond being so darn cool – the trailer really doesn’t tell you a whole heck of a lot about the plot.

Lets start with a little background.

At roughly 120,000 words book one, which is titled “Fathers and Sons,” was written a little over two years ago and took me about year to finish. Why so long you ask? Well, I was only able to write between the hours of 10pm and 2am, and I did take a few months off sometime around June. Why the time off?

None of your business – stop being so nosey.

I shopped the book around quite a bit and amassed an impressive pile of rejection letters. Most were positive, “I like what you’re doing, but I’m just not interested at this time” sorts of things. There was one slightly pompous, “This is good but I’m just not feeling passionate about it, and I can’t get behind anything I don’t feel passionate about” response, and there were even a couple “I have absolutely no idea who in the world buy this” tossed in there.

With memories of my nerdy high school years rising to the surface once again, I had taken just about all the rejection I could handle and was ready to move onto the next project when Canonbridge came along.

Turns out all of those rejections were a blessing in disguise. Canonbridge has been a dream and at this point I can’t imagine there being a better partner in the publishing process.

I’m not saying that just to brownnose either.

Believe it or not that chocolate colored smear on my schnoze is actually nothing more than chocolate. I’m a messy eater. You know those pictures of little kids with bowls of spaghetti on their heads? I took one of those last week – of me.

When book one hits on or around the 20th of this month it’ll hopefully be some of what you’re expecting, and a lot of what you aren’t. If I can leave you surprised and wanting more I’ve done my job.

Without giving away too much of the plot let me tell you that you’ll get very real drama in a world familiar, and even more in worlds not so much. There are ancient prophecies, underground cities, castles, kings, swords, monsters so incredibly large their heads get lost in the clouds, and an army hell-bent on stacking the bodies of the dead just as high. At the center of it all is a group of five children from very different situations with abilities they can scarcely understand, let alone hope to control.

You’ll get some actions, you’ll get some tears, you’ll get some scares, maybe even a couple laughs here and there, and hopefully a few moments that will you feeling like you’ve been slimed.

I of course mean that in the most positive of ways.

In the end, I just hope you dig it.

I dig it.

If I didn’t I wouldn’t have written it, and would feel like the worlds biggest jerk trying to sell it to you.

Steve

100 Worlds - 100 Creatures Episode 2

In the world of "Forts" there are a hundred doorways leading to a hundred different worlds. While I won't be able to visit them all over the course of the three books, I thought it might be fun to add to the mythology by sketching up a few alien races on the spot.

Here's the second in the series.

Steve