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Author Frederick J. Arceneaux

My guest today is the debut author of the recently released supernatural thriller: Mirrored.


Blurb: Christine Albright was drawn into the center of an eight year old double homicide while furnishing an old Thibodaux, Louisiana plantation house under renovations. The only survivor of the attack on her family, then eight year old Celestine Badeau is now sixteen and being pursued by the demon sent by the voodoo woman Old Tre intent on killing her. The mystery of these murders exposes Christine’s dark past, being possessed by a demon as a teenager. The accidental meeting between Christine and Celestine sets into motion horrors straight out of Hell. Their only defense is their faith in God.


Alright Fred, could you tell me a little about how you found Astraea Press, and what made you decide to go with an e-publisher?

“On the (RWA) Southern Magic loop in early Aug. 2011, they mentioned that publisher Stephanie Taylor of Astraea Press would be attending Southern Magic’s Readers Luncheon that Nov. I just took a chance and queried them. A week later, they offered me a contract.”

Wow. I guess that’s just how fast things can change.
How have you liked your experience with Astraea thus far?

“Stephanie Taylor and the entire staff at Astraea Press have been wonderful. As a debut author, they saw something in my writing that 100 other publishers and agents didn’t see. I’m the most blessed author in the world to be with Astraea Press.”


Looking back at all you’ve undergone regarding publication, what would you have done differently?

“I would have followed my own instincts instead of listening to people who gave advice but never attempted to get published themselves.”

I understand that you did a good bit of research as you were writing ‘Mirrored’. What did this research consist of, and what was the most interesting thing you came across in that process?

“I drew upon my 40+ years of genealogy research and searched the web studying towns, people, and reading books authored by actual exorcist priests.

The most interesting part of my research was also the scariest. I read at least 4 books written by exorcists and the forms of possession that demons take while possessing a person just made me have nightmares. The other thing was that most often demons don’t possess people so much as oppress them. Demonic oppression takes the form of aggravating a person’s health issues, or exaggerating a person’s imagination.”

On that note, I’d like to take this opportunity to offer a sneak peek excerpt from Mirrored:

CHAPTER ONE
October 1997, Birmingham Alabama

While the events of that day were far from ordinary for the fourteen-year-old girl tied to her bed, for Father Victolini they were all in a day’s work. His calm, however, did little to ease the mind of the girl’s mother.

Although only thirty-nine, lines of weariness and distress etched Cynthia Albright’s cheeks, and she grasped the priest’s arm in a gesture both pleading and full of fear. “Father Victolini, do something.”

His hand covered hers, white against the austere blackness of his sleeve, as it clutched him, and he squeezed gently in a gesture of reassurance.

“Cynthia, I promise I won’t give up until Christine is freed. But I caution you, cases such as your daughter’s often take days to resolve.” He looked over at her husband. “Robert, take your boys downstairs, and don’t let them back up tonight!”

The older boy, seventeen-year-old Bobby, protested as he pulled his arm free from his father’s restraining hand. “No! She’s my sister, and I can’t leave her, not while she’s like this.”

Father Victolini caught Bobby’s eye, his look stern yet compassionate as he spoke to him. “Tonight will be too dangerous for you and your family. Take your brother, Steve, and stay downstairs. No matter what you hear, do not come up here! Do you understand me?”

Bobby knew by Father Victolini’s tone that he had no choice but to obey. Stubborn reluctance etched on his face, he led his brother down to the sitting room, followed by their father, and the three of them sat without looking at one another. Robert quietly instructed them to take out their rosaries. As the sound of their strong voices lifted in prayer, the hallway lights outside Christine’s bedroom suddenly went out, leaving Cynthia and Father Victolini temporarily blinded by the unexpected darkness.

From inside Christine’s room, an unnaturally deep, coarse, guttural male voice said: “Come in Priest. I have been waiting for you.”

Cynthia looked at the priest, tried to say something to him, but the shock of that unearthly voice stunned her senses and prevented her from getting a sound out of her throat.

Father Victolini sighed and let his eyes adjust to the darkness as he slowly entered the room.
Once inside, he heard the bedroom door slam shut behind him and whirled around to grab the door handle, turning it as he attempted to open the door. It jiggled but remained, to all intents and purposes, firmly locked.

“Father, open this door! Why did you shut and lock it?” Cynthia’s frantic voice rose in evident fear, then she called out to her husband. “Bob, get up here. Father Victolini has locked himself inside Christine’s room.”

Bob Junior and Steve bolted past their father, headed for the stairs, but their father’s stern command stopped them in their tracks. “Hold it, boys. Stay down here, and keep praying. I’ll take care of this.” Robert ran up the stairs to his wife’s side and attempted to open the
door. “Father, unlock this door now!”

“I didn’t lock the door. Get the key, and try to open it.”

Bob rushed to the end of the hall and into the master bedroom. A moment later, he came back with the key and inserted it into the lock. The key turned easily but the tumblers did not, and he scowled his bewilderment and rattled the handle in frustration. “Father, the door is unlocked.”

“Be patient, Bob. The door will open soon.” Father Victolini turned to the figure lying in bed. He knew it was Christine, but it did not look like her. Staring up at him was a voluptuous blonde in a nightgown with her hands and feet tied to the bedposts. The figure spoke with a soft and seductive tone.

“Father, come closer. You like what you see; you used to. Come closer and untie me so I can give you what you’ve not had in years. You loved it and took it as often as you could. Don’t you still miss it? You can have it again.”

Father reached for the crucifix hanging from a cord around his neck. “May God rebuke you for tempting me and possessing this innocent girl.”

The thing that controlled Christine’s body ignored Father Victolini’s commands. “Innocent? Who is innocent? Look at me, priest. This is what you crave. You couldn’t get enough when you didn’t have that collar around your throat.”

The thing had the appearance of sensual lust and Father Victolini struggled within himself to resist its temptations. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command that you depart from her now!”

At these words, the figure in bed changed back to Christine and called out to her mother. “Mommy, come here and help me. It’s gone, and I’m okay now.”

The bedroom door instantly opened, and Cynthia saw her little girl. She looked tired but appeared normal. Cynthia rushed past Father Victolini to her daughter’s bedside.

“Mommy, untie me, and let me hug you.”

Cynthia began loosening Christine’s right wrist.

“No, don’t; get away from her!” Father Victolini shouted a warning, but too late. Her right wrist freed, the figure in bed struck Cynthia across her face and blood welled from a long scratch to run down Cynthia’s left cheek. She looked bewildered, and small wonder. Her daughter would have never done such a thing.

Repulsed, she jumped away with her gaze fixed upon Christine’s face, which was suddenly dry and covered with fine scales, having a serpent’s open mouth with fangs ready to strike.

Well, that’s an intense way to jump into a story!

Did you work with critique partners?

“No. I tried that several times before and they all quit and left me to finish the work all alone.”


That’s unfortunate. I know it can be a tough business, finding someone to work with. I’d liken it to speed dating a less-than-indulgent American Idol judge. >.> But I digress.
What book or movie would you claim as your favorite supernatural thriller?


“Midnight Bayou by Nora Roberts. It’s the closest thing to what I write out there.”


What do you have in mind for your next project?

“Mirrored is the first of a planned 12 book series. They are set in three groups. The first three, then 4, and then another 4. Currently I’m about half way into the second novel in the series.”


Irrelevant, nonsensical questions:

If you could have any Disney sidekick animal as a manifestation of
your muse, which one would you pick?


“The dog Scotty from Lady and the Tramp.”

I’d love my muse to have a sassy Scottish accent.
Paper, plastic, or BYOB (bring your own bag)?


“Paper, later you can wrap a package with it.”

Ah, such an economical answer! I’ll have to remember that. Alright, last but not least…
If you were left stranded on an island infested by zombies, what one item would you want to have with you?

“A gun, definitely a gun with unlimited bullets.”

I see you are well versed in zombie protocol. Touche’, sir!

And thank you for humoring your interrogator. ^_^ I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.

Bio: Frederick J Arceneaux grew up in St. Petersburg, Florida. After two
years of college, he entered the insurance industry, selling, and
teaching. At age fifty, a severe back injury forced him to retire on
disability. He and his wife Christine moved to north Alabama and in
2003, Fred began writing as a pastime. Using his knowledge of
genealogy, he developed his signature style in the genre of
supernatural thrillers. In August 2011, he sold his first novel
“MIRRORED” to Astraea Press.

Learn more about Fred:

Website: http://frederickjarceneaux.webs.com/
Blog: http://frederickjarceneaux.wordpress.com/



Check out Astraea Press here: http://www.astraeapress.com/

Please feel free to leave any questions or comments for Fred. This is my first interview, so we’re all learning as we go here. ^_^

2011 — In Retrospect

Looking back over my list of goals from last year, I’m fairly pleased with the results.

*Read at least 2 books on revision and self-editing. (Check!)

*Macro revision of memoir; eliminate all known plot and flow issues. (Check.)

*Micro revision of memoir; polish with a line-by-line review. (Checkity-check!)

*Recruit reliable beta-readers and make adjustments based on consensus input. (Yeppers! 4 non-related betas, all reliable and very helpful! :))

*Begin agent querying in by the middle of the year. (Early August–close enough.)

*Attend 2 workshops. (2 online, 1 in person. Thank you Margie Lawson!)

*Enter 2 contests for feedback purposes. (5 contests entered, finaled in 2)

*Finish reading: Writing the Breakout Novel. (Yes! And it was marvelous.)

*Read: Goal, Motivation, Conflict –Deb Dixon. (Nay.)

*Read: Heroes and Heroines – Tami D. Cowden. (Nope. :P)

*Read at least 15 books just for fun. (Roughly 40 read for fun. Cha-ching!)

*Write at least 500 words a day, regardless of what it goes towards. (Mostly, yes.)

*Continue going through all Writer’s Digest magazines, highlighting helpful material.

*Study the Sci-fi genre and read 5 well-rated, recent examples. (Only one recent example read–Across The Universe. 5 classic examples read in addition, at least…)

*World-build and create an outline for my intended sci-fi series. (Half of my character sheets were done before I got waylaid by NaNoWriMo ambitions.)

*Keep up with the blog at least once a month. (CHECK!)

*Regular exercise. (3 months consistently…then failure. :P)

What is amazing to me is how much I accomplished that I hadn’t even thought to set as goals. 2011 was a year of firsts for me:

I judged 6 entries for a contest, joined the Birmingham chapter of the RWA, copy-edited 13 chapters for a friend, attended my first writing conference ever–Moonlight & Magnolias–where I pitched in person for the first time to two agents. I received my first 2 partial requests, received my first 13 form rejections and one personalized rejection, attempted NaNoWriMo and failed miserably (but learned a lot from that failure), found a published-author critique partner who challenged me to my limits and left me better off for it, and I was taken on as a book reviewer for RT Magazine.

A year ago, few of those things would have occurred to me at all. Most were simply opportunities that cropped up in what seemed like oddly good timing. Yet, all of these experiences have built upon each other to hone my sense for the writing craft in ways I never saw coming. I have a complete manuscript that’s been screened and edited to a state I’m happy with, and I’ve made it 6 chapters into constructing a YA novel that keeps surprising me. I’ve truly gone back to school these last two years. I may not be agented yet, but I feel so much more prepared for that step. Maybe 2012 is the year. 🙂

In the mean time, I need to keep striving for goals and pushing forward. So without further ado and/or blathering, I present my goals for this year:

*Write at least 500 words a day, regardless of what it goes towards.

*Continue to keep 5-8 queries out there to agents regarding the memoir.

*Enter a least 4 contests for feedback purposes, both manuscripts.

*Judge for at least 1 contest.

*Love my family enough to avoid NaNoWriMo until children are much older and no longer need me…

*Attend a weekend writing retreat.

*Read at least 30 books just for fun. (Outside of monthly RT assignments.)

*Read at least 3 craft-related books.

*Expand my social media networking presence and familiarity.

*Write a query and synopsis for new YA novel.

*Finish YA novel, revise, and send it to be edited.

*Continue going through all Writer’s Digest magazines, highlighting helpful material.

*Keep up with the blog at least once a month. (Tune in every 2nd Friday of the month!)

*Procure ‘the right agent.’ (Lord willing.)

*Exercise regularly! Exercise every other day.

So, what are you pleased to have accomplished in 2011? And what are your project and personal growth goals for this year? Give me all of them, or just your top 3 if you’re pressed for time. 🙂

Homeless Santa (And Other Thoughts On Character Study)

The Dollar Store is great for people watching. I consider it third best, surpassed only by indoor malls and airports. There’s usually someone memorable wandering around, with some quirk I might tuck away later and add to one of my literary characters just for flair and flavor. Hoping to avoid alienation from friends (and/or lawsuits) I prefer to make notes on complete strangers. The show-tune singing Wal*mart cashier, the scary-big bodybuilder walking his teacup Chihuahua, the glowering bell-ringer with the hooker boots… I never know what’s going to stand out as inspirational to my warped, ADD-addled little mind. But a while back, I happened upon ‘the full package’–a person who unconsciously demanded to be a complete character rather than simply contributing to a possible-but-unlikely composite.

Homeless Santa.

It was nowhere near December, but the man’s resemblance to Father Christmas was so striking, I ran into an endcap full of off-brand air fresheners before any family members could hiss at me to stop staring. Twinkling eyes…that was my first clue. Snow white beard and a cherry nose? Yep. Dimpled, rosy cheeks? Check. Broad face, and a little round belly? Definitely. It even shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of…

Well okay, so he wasn’t laughing. He was actually a bit bedraggled looking. That’s when I noticed the faded military fatigues and tattered old biker boots. No pipe, either–just a crumpled pack of Marlboros peeking up out of his left breast pocket. I shook off the eerie sense that I’d just encountered the results of a clash between mythos and a bad economy, and continued with my shopping. But even as I went about collecting my ridiculously cheap (but still quality!) cleaning supplies, I pondered the possibly down-on-his-luck doppelganger. Just as I’d started making up some tragic holiday story revolving around wartime Post-Traumatic Stress and memory loss, I heard a voice behind me rumble, “Excuse me, ma’am?

As it turns out, Santa has a Southern drawl. I smiled and waited for him to ask me if I worked there. (I get that a lot, for some reason… >.>) Instead, he told me he loved my tattoos. He then properly identified my Celtic trinity knot as a Triquetra, stating that the word was Latin for “three-cornered.” He went on to compliment my interlocking Greek Alpha and Omega letters and knew precisely what they symbolized, (possibly making him the first stranger who hasn’t assumed me to be some exceptionally devoted sorority member.)

Deeply impressed, I let him know he was the only person I’d met who recognized both of my tattoos without me needing to explain them. The older gentleman gave me a distinctly merry smile and said, “You know, people don’t usually guess it, but I studied Greek and Celtic cultures pretty extensively back in my college days.”

No, I bet people don’t guess. But they really ought to consider it. 🙂

I thanked the man profusely. He had no idea how much our passing interaction affected me. Somehow…someday…he needs to make it into a story. But then again, I’m sure he has plenty of his own.


So, you’ve heard my confession. Tell me about an experience or inspiration you’ve had regarding character study, or just plain old people-watching.


NaNoWriMo: What I’m Doing Wrong

It’s said: ‘A smart person learns from their mistakes. A smarter person learns from the mistakes of others.’

Today, I’m offering you the chance to be the smarter person…by learning from my mistakes. Now, I’m not saying I’m already throwing in the towel (or perhaps ‘the feathery pen’ would be a better metaphor) at 11 days in, but I’m close to it. And for reasons that could have been avoided if I’d had more foresight.

#1. Having 2 children under the age of 3.

Mind you, I’m not saying my children themselves are mistakes. Far from it. But to someone who is attempting to slam out 50k words in a single month, it becomes tempting to regard 2 toddlers as hedonistic little assassins of joy. (An attitudinal issue that is as bad for my beloved spawn as it is for me.) Toddlers require extensive amounts of time and attention…manuscripts require extensive amounts of time and attention. In retrospect, this was probably not the best timing in my life’s journey for me to be attempting something so demanding. At the very least, I should have lined up some trusted childcare.

#2. Poor planning.

I think I went into this with the hope that the collective support and energy would carry me into unfamiliar depths of spontaneity. I had a basic genre, theme concept, and two main characters I loved. I had myself convinced that plotting would only get in my way. And so, I got to chapter five and realized I couldn’t see my destination, let alone how I was going to get there. Granted, NaNo is supposed to be a good time to push yourself and experiment. But I’m not a Pantser. And lack of planning from the logical side of my brain does not, evidently, constitute an emergency to the creative side of my brain. I should have at least had an outline to work with.

#3. Submitting chapters for critique as I went.

This was just a flat-out rookie mistake on my part. I don’t know what made me think I could kill two birds with one stone by having my work critiqued while NaNo was still going on. I think I just lost sight of the goal and started worrying that I’d started off on the wrong foot. Any decent critique is bound to take you down a notch or two, and likely require some time of reflection and recovery. (True for me, at least.) But even knowing this, I let it send my brain slogging through a backward examination when what I needed was to plunge on ahead with abandon. Now that the wind has been knocked out of my sails, I’ve had to break out the oars.

#4. Attempting to live normally.

While I did severely cut back on known devourers of time, (i.e. facebook games, unnecessary reading, shaving my legs, and all futile efforts at saving the world) I severely underestimated the kind of lifestyle alteration that could have benefitted someone in my position. What I should have done was: disconnected myself from all media, stockpiled frozen pizzas, and warned everyone not to contact me for the entire month of November baring emergencies and/or ultra fantastic news.

#5. Ignoring all readily available guides to NaNoWriMo prep.

I saw the blog posts starting to go up at the end of September. All one has to do is do a google search on ‘preparing for NaNoWriMo’, and you’ll turn up oodles of excellent advice. But did I do my homework? Well, yes…but like a B student who waited until the night before to study for the ACTs. >.> There’s really no excuse for this sort of flippancy.

So, there you have it. My two cents on how NOT to approach NaNoWriMo. It’s not looking good for me this time around, but hopefully I can work out a game plan if I decide to attempt it again next year.

P.S. I feel no shame in counting this post as 668 words toward my overall goal.

A Call To Conference

This last weekend I had my first experience at a writing conference when I attended Moonlight and Magnolias in Atlanta, Georgia. I’m not much good with crowds, but I was told that a regional conference like this would be a good introduction to help ease me into the scene, in the event I might ever consider a national conference. And I have to say, I’m so glad I gave in to the peer pressure. I’m still riding the high of spending 4 days basking in such a unique atmosphere of professional ambition and warm camaraderie. I pitched to 2 agents, and received 2 requests for the first three chapters (despite the fact that my hands were shaking under the table and I stammered my way through each appointment.)

Reflecting back on my experience, I had a few tidbits of advice I wanted to get down before my brain evicts them to make room for something of questionable importance. These were just my personal takeaways–chunk them if you don’t like them. 🙂 Hopefully there’s some universal application to be had.

#1. Business Cards – I recalled a conference several friends attended last year, and the overwhelming lament from most of them was: ‘I should have brought business cards.’ Many had put off the necessary evil of branding themselves onto a tangible piece of paper out of concern for what pen name they might want to use, or what color-scheme suited their genre. And while I agree, it’s worth making every effort to present a good first impression…better a mediocre calling card than none at all. You want people to be able to contact you later, without the use of a private detective!

Which brings me to my next point…

#2. Network, network, network! – While I carpooled to the conference with two of my dearest mentors from our particular guild chapter, we saw relatively little of each other all weekend. This was by design. My friends had navigated the conference scene numerous times before and encouraged me to seize every opportunity to chat people up and make new friends. I could talk to them any time, after all. And while the introvert in me had a number of freak-out moments in which I went running to the nearest familiar face from my chapter like my 18-month-old to her security blanket, I usually recovered within a few minutes and went bounding back into the fray.

Which leads into a consideration I initially took for granted…

#3. Nap Time – It can do wonders for the disposition of toddlers and conference-goers alike. Keep some sleep in reserve. You never know when you might hit it off with a handful of people you happened upon in the lobby, and look up later to realize you’ve yammered on into the wee hours. Crawling out of bed and down to your morning workshops after such an evening is about as much fun as bathing a frightened cat…while naked. I’m not exaggerating, people. There’s only so much a good cup of coffee can do.

(But still, scout out all possible coffee venues upon your arrival. You’ll thank me later.)

#4. Attire – Allow for comfort on travel days, but once the conference is in full swing–think business casual. As I was there to be taken seriously, along with learning and making some lasting connections, I brought along my best ‘hire me’ clothes. I noticed a number of people who added an exuberant flair to their carefully selected outfits, but I’m honestly too much of a newbie to be daring. 🙂

Note: I think I went a little TOO safe with the formal-wear. If there happens to be a formal event like a dance or award ceremony, and you would like to stand out from the crowd at all, try to avoid wearing a black cocktail dress. (Unless, of course, you happen to me a dude. In which case a black cocktail dress will definitely get you noticed. >.>)

Now, who wants to offer up their take on a conference experience, or possibly some pointers to go along with that? I’m sure I’ve missed some things.

Rejection I Can Appreciate

So far I’d been trying to use this blog to be helpful to other aspiring writers. Right now, I just want to be real with you. (Fear not–I have no intention of emotionally upchucking all over your house slippers.)

I just wanted to confess that I’ve just received my fifth rejection from an agent, and I’ve got some mixed feelings about it. (Yes, I know that five rejections is nothing, and I can easily expect a dozen more before the planets align and/or Snooki’s book finally runs its course.) I’m not reflecting so much on the rejection as I am on the -type- of rejection it happens to be. You see, this is the first non-form rejection I’ve received.

Aha! My angsty dark cloud has a silver lining.

That’s right, while it still stung like being the last kid picked for Dodgeball, this letter was -personalized-! No generic ‘Dear Author’… my actual name was at the top of that tiny paragraph. No cut-and-paste standard reply about how the agent gets so many queries every day they can’t possibly give me a hint as to why my project (regrettably, of course) doesn’t interest them… this one gave me an explanation. And here it is, short and sweet:

————–

‘Unfortunately I’m going to pass on this idea. The manuscript is quite long, and it’s quite hard to sell memoirs from authors with small platforms.

Sorry about all this. The idea itself seemed interesting and interestingly enough mirrors a fiction project that I’m planning on taking on.’

Best,

————–

Now that I’ve gotten some potentially useful feedback on my attempt, I have to decide what to do with it–if anything. (This was only the query, by the way. This particular agent didn’t want writing samples included.)

*Can I cut down the manuscript notably?

Maybe a few thousand words could still be trimmed without the book losing its essence, but I’m not sure what count to shoot for (as there is no average word count for this genre.)

*Can I magically pull a ‘platform’ out of subspace by becoming famous overnight?

Unlikely. (Call me, Snooki! I’d like to audition to become your arch nemesis. >.>)

*Can I completely rework the book into a fiction piece and still live with myself?

Ask me again after another two-dozen dismissals.

Okay, so I suppose I don’t have much by way of conclusive information just yet. At least it’s a start. Seeing any of this echoed by a different agent will certainly make me sit up and reassess my approach to the query gauntlet.

In the mean time, the name of the game is ‘persistence.’ If Kathryn Stockett (author of ‘The Help’) had to face down 60 rejection letters before finding an advocate for her story, then I figure I’ve got 55 more to go before I’m entitled to mourn my lack of marketability. (I may do a bit of whining at every interval of 10 or so, but I’ll try to keep it to myself as much as humanly possible.)

So, has anyone learned things from rejection letters? And if you happen to have some experience with them, tell me what you make of mine. 🙂 I’m wide open to interpretations/suggestions.