Saturday, October 9, 2010
Please welcome Chelsea, Teenage Ghost from Whispers in Autumn
1.) Hi, please tell us a little bit about yourself.
Hey. My name is Chelsea Martin and I'm the same age now that I was eight years ago, the same age I will always be, and that is fifteen years old. In life, I was an athlete. I won lots of trophies for the Hope Haven High School swim team. Coach Taylor said I was the best there ever was, and I guess that's probably true. That's why it's so unbelievable that I died the way I did. By drowning. Another thing I should tell you about me is that I have a hot temper. My dad always called me headstrong, and I think that's probably true, too. I always did exactly what I wanted to do, and that's the reason I am what I am today. A teenaged ghost.
2.) Is it hard being a teenaged ghost?
It's hard when I start thinking about all the things I won't ever get to do. Like I'll never get to drive a car or get married. And I'll never get to swim again. But at the same time, I'll never get old, like Mrs. Wilbert. She’s another ghost who lives at Shadow Lake. She's, like, eighty years old. She hobbles around in these beater high heels and this old purple hat with all this creepy netting across the front. At least I was wearing something hot when I died, which was my favorite black swim suit.
3.) Do you interact with people you knew before you died?
Well, for that I need a medium, ‘cause most people can't see or hear me, and that’s totally frustrating sometimes. That's why I was so stoked when Ms. Denning showed up at Shadow Lake. 'Course I had no idea the trouble she was bringing along with her. I had to practically save her life, but it's all good, because she was my only chance to get through to my dad, to explain what happened that night out on the lake. See, all these years he's been blaming himself for my death. Seeing my dad suffer and not being able to help him is the hardest part of being a ghost.
4.) Do you know any other ghosts?
Oh, you have no idea. There are tons of spirits here at Shadow Lake. Most of them are old people, like Mrs. Wilbert, and I don't have anything much in common with them except that we're all dead. But there's this ghost dog named Dutch. He's a German Shepherd and the gentlest, sweetest dog you ever met. He spends most of his time pacing back and forth on the docks, waiting for his master to come home. He's been waiting for, like, forty years, I think. I like to sit on the dock and talk to him. He's a better listener than all the humans I know put together.
5.) What's it like working with your author?
Jean was pretty cool to work with once she understood the rules. At first she was trying to make me say things I'd never say, so then I totally clammed up and she's all, "What's the problem, Chelsea?" But once she got it that I was the one in control, we got along just fine. Fact, toward the end of the story I started to feel like she knew me even better than I knew myself.
6.) Where can readers buy your book?
WHISPERS IN AUTUMN is available as a paperback or an ebook at www.blacklyonpublishing.com, or at Amazon.com as a paperback or a Kindle Book. You can also get it at your favorite book store. If they don't have it, ask them to order it for you!
7.) Anything you'd like to add?
I want to let people know that Jean's got a lot of other really great books, too. There’s Shadow Lake, which is part one of our series, and there are also books about ghosts and time travel and lots of other cool stuff. You can read excerpts and reviews on her website at:
Excerpt from WHISPERS IN AUTUMN
In the bathroom, Dove slipped out of her dress and pulled on a nightgown. She washed her face, brushed her hair, and headed back to the living room, yawning. A night of driving and a day of festivity had finally caught up with her. Sleep would come easily this night.
Crossing the room to pull the curtains closed, she froze when she saw a figure standing on the dock; a young girl in a black bathing suit. Her skin was milky white, her hair long and untamed. Dove pulled in a breath. Don't get involved...
She closed her eyes, exhaled softly. When she opened them again, the girl was still there, regarding her pensively with her dark, shadowy eyes.
Ignoring her inner voice, Dove slid open the door and stepped outside. She stood without speaking, her gaze locked with that of the specter.
You can see me? The girl finally asked.
None of the others can.
What do you want?
I want ... I want you to tell him I'm sorry. Please?
She choked on a sob. My dad.
Who are you?
Silence fell like a thick, dark veil. The ghost drew closer. Shivering in her nightgown, Dove braced herself against a blast of frigid air, against the sheer, raw strength of the emotions that swirled like a cyclone inside the girl. Images exploded in her brain, one after another: a small girl splashing in the water, running with a jar of lightning bugs, riding piggyback high on a man's shoulders. She watched as each impression gave way to the next, as the pretty little girl became a lovely young woman. She saw her competing in a high school swim meet as a crowd of onlookers cheered, dancing in a lavender gown, a string of pearls around her pretty neck, riding a ten speed bike, her hair dancing in the wind. And then came a final, horrible image. A blood curdling scream as she plunged head first into the icy lake, her hands groping blindly in terror and confusion as the water closed in around her.
Dove nearly buckled beneath the force of its fury as the specter fought to gain entry into her being. Summoning her inner strength, she steeled herself against the onslaught until she felt its energy begin to weaken. Its fervor lessened and then disappeared, leaving only a whispered breath of air in its wake.
I'm Chelsea ...