Thursday, November 7, 2013

#AuthorInterview--> Promising Debut Author- Sarah Lane

Hi Friends,

Today I have with me the very talented writer, Sarah Lane whose debut novel, 

The God of My Art: A Novelis out in the market and was the 

2012 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter finalist.

Sarah Lane was transplanted from California to Canada as a child and grew up in rural British Columbia. As a young adult, wanderlust led her to live abroad in France and the USA, and to travel extensively in Cameroon, Mexico, and Europe. 

Mom to two, foodie, speaker of accented French, and all around xenophile, she holds a B.A. in international relations and a M.A. in comparative literature from the University of British Columbia. Her short stories and poetry have been featured in a number of literary journals, including The Antigonish Review, Roar Magazine, and Quills: Canadian Poetry Magazine, among other literary journals.              

Welcome to Njkinny's World of Books, Sarah!
Lets have coffee and begin the interview. :)

Q1. Tell us something about yourself. 

I grew up in rural British Columbia on the Canadian west coast. I wrote my first poem in high school and knew I would be a writer. I love travelling, so I've lived years in France and the USA, and I've spent months in Cameroon, Mexico, and Europe. I have a B.A. in international relations and a M.A. in comparative literature, for which I translated part of an award-winning novel from French to English. Previous to the publication of The God of My Art: A Novel, I had a number of short stories and poetry published in various magazines and journals. I’m currently the mom of two rambunctious toddlers, so finding time to write, or travel, is hard right now, but I’m hoping for more of both in the future.

Q2. In one sentence what is your book The God of My Art: A Novelabout?

It’s about the choice to become, or not to become, fully and authentically yourself.

Q3. What inspired you to write this book?

Many things. I was living in France at the time, where social class structures are quite rigid and obvious. It made me think about the subtle, hidden social classes of my own culture, which pretends to be classless, and I wanted to highlight how being born into, for example, the “welfare” class can have repercussions that follow a woman into adulthood.


Q4. Your one memorable moment while writing this book was?

Walking the lake in Annecy, France, at twilight every evening after a full day of writing. Those were the days….

Q5.  Which is your favorite character from this book and why?

I would have to say the central character because she finds the courage to become herself.

Q6. What do you aim for your readers to take away from this book?

I hope that readers will take away something that makes them reflect on their own lives and on their own freedom, or lack thereof, to decide their lives.

Q7. Had you not been a writer then what career would you have taken?

Author.

Q8. Do you write full time or part time? Do you follow a schedule while writing?

I write part time, whenever I can squeeze in an hour or two away from my two toddlers.

Q9. What are the four most important things you take care to check while writing a book?

I try to avoid wordiness and telling (rather than showing), and I try to keep my facts straight and my grammar correct.

Q10. One advice you would like to give the writers in the making?

Sit down and start writing. Get lots of books about writing from the library and read them all. Consider the audience you want to reach and write for an imaginary person from that audience.

Q11. What are your future plans?


My writing projects include finishing my second novel about an international love affair that may or may not have a happy ending and starting my third novel about a doppelganger who seeks recognition from her original self, with tragic consequences.

Now before you go how about an excerpt from your book to intrigue and tantalize us.
I hurry away up the street, crossing over Hastings and Carrall to turn into the alleyway. On high alert for dirty needles and other dangerous debris, I start up the darkened lane.
I recognize her right away. She is wearing a black pair of leggings, platform sandals slightly too big for her feet, a peach halter top, and a tattered coat with a fake fur trim, the zipper obviously broken. We are nearing the middle of winter, and I can’t help but wonder if she is cold. She is tucked between an electrical pole and a graffiti-covered wall, crouched down with a crack pipe hanging off her lips. As I walk up to her, she slips the pipe into her handbag and straightens up. She looks like she weighs ninety pounds at most, her ribs jutting out from under her top.
“Hi, Eddie. I’m Helene.”
She stares at me like I’m an alien from another planet. I do feel out of my element, and it does seem like a different world altogether. It smells of rotting cabbage and urine in here, as well as the remaining chemical odor of whatever she was smoking. The air tastes chalky and putrid, and the sounds of the city are far away and muffled. All that can be seen of the overcast sky are the shapes cut out by lines and lines of electrical and telephone wires, leading deeper and deeper into a tunnel of dumpsters and pulled-up fire escapes.
I wonder what I’m doing in this dangerous and dirty place, introducing myself to a skeleton of a junkie.
“I’m so sad today,” she blurts out. “It’s my daughter’s second birthday. I only seen her twice since she was born.”
I hold out the copy of my painting to her.
“What’s this?” she asks. I can see track marks on the back of her wrist as she reaches for it.
“It’s a painting I made of you. I saw you a few months ago in front of the train station. I came here to give you a copy.”
She studies the sheet, pinching her burnt lips together.
I’m considering how best to take my leave when she says, “They won’t let me see Ashley until I’m clean for seventy-two hours.”
I glance behind me at the exit to the alleyway half a block back. I want to ask her why she doesn’t clean up then for three days, but I realize I am out of my depth. I have no idea what addiction feels like nor to what compulsions it can drive a person. Yes, my mother is an alcoholic, but I also saw her recover. So I have nothing to offer this woman, other than my artistic vision of her as seen by an outsider.
“You wonder why I don’t do that, right?” she asks. “So I could make it to her party, right?”
I turn back and give a hesitant nod.
“I’m an addict, and I’ll die an addict.” She gives a faint smile, showing off a top gum line of missing teeth. “You can’t imagine the things I do for money. I spend my entire day trying to rip people off. I sell drugs so I don’t have to sell my body, but I done that when necessary too. I done just about everything.

“I got clean for a few months last year. I was taking the medicine they prescribed me and doing real good, but then I screwed up and lost everything. I don’t expect to see my girl again before I die in one of these back lanes.”

Thanks for taking time to talk to us, Sarah. Njkinny's World of Books wishes you the best in all your future endeavors and hopes to read more from you. :)

Follow Sarah Lane:


Buy Sarah's Book:


Indigo Chapters, paperback
Barnes and Nobles, paperback



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