Claire Gillian

A stereotypical caricature of a villain.

Image via Wikipedia

Day eleven. I’m over a third done!

11. Who is your favorite character to write? Least favorite?

Gayle Lindley, heroine of my romantic suspense novel, The PURE, has been my favorite heroine to date though I’ve really enjoyed writing Dori too. Both women are written from a first person POV, and therefore have some pretty big chunks of me in them. It’s always easy to write about me because I’m my favorite topic. (Ah come on, everyone is like this.) Gayle’s got the heart of a lion in this small package. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, though perhaps she should be as it gets her into trouble. I give the edge to Gayle over Dori because Gayle is not nearly as naive and damaged as Dori. Both women are self-deprecating, Gayle intentionally and Dori because that’s really how she feels about herself.

Least favorite characters to write would be any of my female villains. I don’t know why I can’t seem to be bothered to take the time to flesh them out any better than I have. They tend to be caricatures, real bitches. I did try a bit harder in My Fair Vampire not to make Dori’s two “sisters” quite so one-dimensional. Unfortunately, most of the other side of the coin that I conjured up for them lives in Dori’s blog and not yet in the novel. Needless to say, I still have quite a bit of editing to do.

My male villain in My Fair Vampire is significantly more evolved than my female villains, though David is the number one villain of the entire novel so I’ve worked harder on him. Like Dori’s sisters, I created a whole back story for him too, wrote it for a blog chain. The hard part has been weaving in the pertinent bits of that back story into the novel. My intent has been to make him yucky but perfectly understandable and even sympathetic…to an extent. The “grey” villain, versus my “black” villainesses.

For my upcoming NaNo novel, my goal is to create a not so likable female protagonist. I hope, however, that she wins over the reader by the end of the novel when her full story is revealed. That’ll be a new challenge for me, writing the tragically flawed heroine but I’m truly looking forward to it. Hopefully, the next time I’m asked about my favorite character to write, Neely will take top prize. We’ll see in two months.

Image via Wikipedia

Claire rubs hands together gleefully over today’s topic….

10. What are some really weird situations your characters have been in? Everything from serious canon scenes to meme questions counts!

If it’s a potentially ridiculous topic, you know I’m going to love waxing on about it. And I do have a few examples.

Dori from My Fair Vampire has many head-shaking moments. To set the stage, you should know that a) she is an inept vampire and b) she is not all vampire but has a shape-shifting ability that gives her avian qualities. Shifting comes as a sudden surprise to her and she’s not quite sure what controls the on and off switch. She bemoans the fact that there’s really no user’s manual when you’re a one of a kind.

Here’s a taste of what Dori herself dubbed the weirdest day of her life (unedited excerpt, so be kind):

I wished I could see my face. Did I have a beak or was it some hybrid human and bird visage?

I remembered the side view mirrors of my car and flew over, landing on the top of the mirror. Digging my talons in, I dipped my head upside-down and took a peek. What I saw made me gasp. It was me but it wasn’t me. The eyes I knew were mine; they looked identical. The colors of my plume were similar to my human hair color. I looked somewhat like an eagle, but it was hard to see much from my precarious perch. Nevertheless, I could tell I was one pretty bird. I’d have to find a better mirror next time, but had no desire to fly around in search of one.

I was ready to go home but hadn’t a clue how to become Dori the humanoid again. Before, the changes had just happened, taking me along for the ride. I focused my gaze where my fingers should have been, where I saw nothing but beautiful crimson, orange and gold feathers, the colors of flame. I concentrated and willed my fingers to return. Nothing happened. I pecked at my feet, feeling a little stupid doing so. Still nothing. I crouched down like I was sitting on a nest. Nada. Nil. Negativo. I gazed at the sun a bit but all that did was make spots float before my eyes. Frustrated, I launched myself in the air and circled the area.

Now what? Should I fly home and wait it out or just stay here? What if someone sees me?

I landed and hopped in a circle around my clothes. I wasn’t going to leave those puppies unguarded, not with my car keys right there with them. Throwing my head back, I screeched into the sky before a wave of fury hit me. I tucked my head inside a wing and plucked out a feather, silently cursing the damn things as I did. As soon as it pulled free, all of the other feathers fell to the ground, revealing the pale human skin beneath. My eye level rose higher and I watched in awe as a dust devil swirled through and swept up a few of my discarded feathers and tossed them high into the air. The grit sandblasted me and I spit out the dirt particles that forced their way into my mouth. After it passed, I brushed off and put my clothes back on.

That day pretty much took the top prize for weirdest of my life.

Another scene from My Fair Vampire pits Dori against a Were-Komodo dragon named Mawar. She triumphs in the death match and is aided in the hush-hush disposal of the body by Donovan. Here’s an excerpt (also unedited):

The gun gave a loud click as he loaded another odd-looking bullet. “Now for the head. I should warn you first. Upon impact, it will be reanimated, but only for a few seconds. However, during that time, she’ll be able to see, hear and comprehend. She may even be able to speak, though it’ll be whispery or raspy since the vocal cords are cut. Best not to let her see or hear us during that time.”

“How long?”

“Maybe fifteen, twenty seconds. Throw me her dress, please.” He pointed to the heap of her clothes, shoes and jewelry he’d kicked to the wall earlier. I retrieved and tossed it to Donovan’s waiting hands.

He aimed and fired a bullet into her forehead then immediately draped the dress over the top of the bucket.

“Where’re you bitch? Why can’t I see anything? Where voice? No! No! Aaahhhhh…” A long, low gurgly exclamation rose in pitch before it tapered off, until at last, Mawar was quiet.

Donovan and I exchanged looks, my wild eyes I’m sure in stark contrast to his unaffected ones.

“I never cared much for Mawar.” He lifted the dress and inspected the interior of the bucket. “Good. All gone.” With a kick of his foot, he pushed the bucket toward me. “Hurry and empty it in the toilet, give it a rinse, then let’s clear out of here.”

I disposed of the head goo and turned in time to see Donovan’s bare ass as he stepped out of his boxers.

(Had to end on a titillating note, heh-heh.)

It’s macabre little scenes like the above that make me happily abandon paranormal romance in favor of urban fantasy as the genre for Dori’s story. But no matter the genre, I will always feature the weird and especially the ridiculous.