Tell us about yourself:
I am a veteran of the U.S. Air Force with over 20 years of service, and hopefully I can do a few more before retirement. I dabbled in sports as a kid, but was never really good at any of them. I seemed to be a better drawer and writer. I love watching live theater and am a big NASCAR fan. Writing is my ultimate passion; however, devoting time is always a challenge.
What was your first book?
My first “book” was the story of the original Final Fantasy game for the old Nintendo. I followed the storyline of the game and wrote a novel of the adventure. I did it for fun while knowing that it wasn’t my original work. It was just cool to give the characters personalities and to write out the fight scenes.
Describe your first break.
Maybe my egg this morning as I made breakfast…bad joke. Well, I think that many new writers out there are truly waiting for their first break. I consider just finishing Tears for a World a huge break. I hope that Marisylia’s story takes off; we’ll just have to see.
What is your favorite genre to read? To write?
I really enjoy reading and writing the fantasy genre. That style fits my imagination more than others, as I can literally create anything I want and it will fit. Reading other authors’ work is interesting too, as I get to see what their imagination is like as well.
Are Happy Endings are must in your stories?
I wouldn’t say happy ending exactly, but there should be some sort of satisfying conclusion. Happy means perfect, and life never is. Our stories reflect life, so having that perfect happy ending wouldn’t feel accurate.
What makes a protagonist interesting?
A good protagonist needs to be flawed. They need to seem human with naivety, mistakes, and room for growth. No one likes to read about the perfect hero/heroine who saves the day without breaking a sweat or already knowing all the answers.
What is the best thing about being a writer?
Seeing your characters come to life in a brand new world. In the beginning a writer may not know their characters’ personalities yet, or understand what will happen to them, but as the story unfolds and things develop, one of the coolest feelings is seeing everything fall into place.
What is the worst thing?
Finding time to write! I think many people struggle with work and daily life while trying to squeeze in a sentence or two between making dinner, taking care of kids, or whatever. It’s always a challenge, but the key is to never stop. Even if I write a couple words down on a piece of paper to jot my memory about a plot element, I consider that a victory.
Pantser or plotter?
Pantser all the way. Some of my best scenes, ideas, and characters have developed on their own as I simply write. I don’t use outlines to define a plot because I find that too restricting. My mind and imagination wander too much to have something structured trying to contain it. Free-writing is much more natural for me.
What do you see the direction of your future writing taking? What can we expect next? Give us a little taste.
For now, I am concentrating on the fantasy genre because it is my favorite and is easier to write since it fits my imagination and style. In the future I would like to try romance or something in a modern setting, although with a “fantasy” element such as the magical realism genre.
Just for fun
Cat or dog person?
Cats, I currently have two Maine Coons. They’re supposed to be renowned for their hunting skill, but mine are too lazy to do anything!
Favorite food?
I will devour any pizza from any place.
Favorite book?
Any book from The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander.
Favorite movie?
Braveheart. Drama, action, tears. A well-rounded film for me.
Favorite holiday?
Halloween, despite being a scaredy-cat. It’s a very fun season.
Would you rather be the princess or the villain? Why?
Villain. I can’t think of many stories where the bad guy/girl wins. But when they do, I would love to be the one who crushed that snot-nosed, overconfident hero who thought they could get the best of me and my diabolical plans!
Who has more fun, orcs or hobbits?
Orcs seem to get the raw end of the deal most of the time, so I believe hobbits are the way to go!
FIND OUT MORE ABOUT ALEXANDER
Author site: http://www.authoralexanderfernandez.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TearsForAWorld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authoraf
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Tears-World-Lonely-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B00NR6X71I/ref=sr_1_1_twi_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1421455620&sr=8-1&keywords=tears+for+a+world
BLURB:
The holy artifact bonded around Marisylia Malludar's neck gives her incredible physical and magical powers—at a price. The bloody piece of vein is consuming Marisylia's body inch by inch, her skeletal hands and feet only the beginning of a slow death. A cruel sorceress and her assassins are on the hunt for Marisylia to steal the artifact. Religious fanatics, volatile and unstable in their blind faith, also seek her to exploit the vein’s most dangerous purpose—liberating the erratic Creator of the World, Lysielle, from her 1,000 year incarceration.
With the vein the key to Lysielle’s freedom, Marisylia must use her abilities to survive long enough to find Lysielle first. Then her most grim challenge awaits—deciding if the Creator has truly repented for attempting to destroy all life. To achieve global peace, Marisylia must discover faith in the unpredictable Lysielle or rely on her own instincts to set the world’s fate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt One:
Marisylia blinked and rubbed milk out of her eyes, but the mob wasn’t finished. A stiff hand shoved her from behind and she stumbled against the table. Unfinished slices of pie and rolls of bread pelted her.
With nowhere to hide, she dove into the horde and tried to shove her way out. Most of the people only yelled insults as they let her pass. Others bumped her roughly with their shoulders, tried to trip her, or pushed her around so she bounced back and forth between pairs of hands.
One woman caught Marisylia and carefully steadied her. She peered into the woman’s eyes, one friendly person amid the riled swarm. The lady smiled softly, then suddenly spit into Marisylia’s face.
When the saliva splattered her cheek, Marisylia stopped caring why the citizens acted like this. Whether due to fear of the religious power, worry that it would infest Three Fingers, or simply senseless anger, none of it mattered anymore since the time to quit had arrived.
All of her determination to succeed had been ripped to shreds by the crowd. Each hand that shoved, every object that struck, drained her enthusiasm. Her devotion to the religion had drowned in the woman’s spit. It was all too much. Marisylia didn’t have Milick’s iron skin or Shri Lilyn’s boldness. She had nothing, only the desire to run away and forget everything.
The holy artifact bonded around Marisylia Malludar's neck gives her incredible physical and magical powers—at a price. The bloody piece of vein is consuming Marisylia's body inch by inch, her skeletal hands and feet only the beginning of a slow death. A cruel sorceress and her assassins are on the hunt for Marisylia to steal the artifact. Religious fanatics, volatile and unstable in their blind faith, also seek her to exploit the vein’s most dangerous purpose—liberating the erratic Creator of the World, Lysielle, from her 1,000 year incarceration.
With the vein the key to Lysielle’s freedom, Marisylia must use her abilities to survive long enough to find Lysielle first. Then her most grim challenge awaits—deciding if the Creator has truly repented for attempting to destroy all life. To achieve global peace, Marisylia must discover faith in the unpredictable Lysielle or rely on her own instincts to set the world’s fate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt One:
Marisylia blinked and rubbed milk out of her eyes, but the mob wasn’t finished. A stiff hand shoved her from behind and she stumbled against the table. Unfinished slices of pie and rolls of bread pelted her.
With nowhere to hide, she dove into the horde and tried to shove her way out. Most of the people only yelled insults as they let her pass. Others bumped her roughly with their shoulders, tried to trip her, or pushed her around so she bounced back and forth between pairs of hands.
One woman caught Marisylia and carefully steadied her. She peered into the woman’s eyes, one friendly person amid the riled swarm. The lady smiled softly, then suddenly spit into Marisylia’s face.
When the saliva splattered her cheek, Marisylia stopped caring why the citizens acted like this. Whether due to fear of the religious power, worry that it would infest Three Fingers, or simply senseless anger, none of it mattered anymore since the time to quit had arrived.
All of her determination to succeed had been ripped to shreds by the crowd. Each hand that shoved, every object that struck, drained her enthusiasm. Her devotion to the religion had drowned in the woman’s spit. It was all too much. Marisylia didn’t have Milick’s iron skin or Shri Lilyn’s boldness. She had nothing, only the desire to run away and forget everything.
RSS Feed
