Charline Ratcliff Interviews: Sarah Wathen, Author of ‘The Tramp: Book One of the Bound Chronicles’

THE TRAMP (THE BOUND CHRONICLES #1)

BY SARAH WATHEN

Welcome Sarah – thanks for making yourself available to chat with me today.

In preparation for our interview, I’ve checked out your various webpages, books, reviews, etc. and I would say that your journey to becoming a writer was a very unique one.

As a child, did you ever imagine that you would one day be creating the illustrations for books much less writing them?

Hi Charline! Thank you very much for hosting me on your blog; I really appreciate it!

Yes, the journey has had a lot of twists and turns. At times I’ve wondered whether I’d gone on such an outlandish tangent that I’d my wasted time on fruitless pursuits. I guess I’ve done a fair amount of floating from one kind of art to another, and that can get frustrating. Things seem to be finally coming full circle, though—to a place where my writing and my artwork make sense together. I just have to have faith that education is never a waste and anything you put your heart into is valid in its own right.

When I was a child, playing make believe and telling stories were my favorite pastimes. Many of the stories were written down and illustrated. My paternal grandfather was a cartoonist for more than fifty years, and most of his offspring seem to have inherited some kind of artistic talent. So, making art on that side of the family was nothing unusual or particularly appreciated. I always loved to draw and paint, but I never considered it for a career until college. English and Creative Writing were my best subjects, but working with traditional publishers didn’t sound like the most lucrative career choice or something that I would enjoy. I’ve always had sort of a problem with authority, and a publisher or an art dealer telling me what I should or shouldn’t write or paint just didn’t work in my life. The new indie author era has changed everything for me. I feel like I’ve finally found my niche.

While you were still young, what sort of things did you dream of doing once you grew up?

For a while I wanted to be an actress when I grew up—not for love of the craft, but just to be famous! Modeling would’ve worked, too. I even chose my college right out of high school, based on how close it would get me to Miami. What a vain little thing I was back then. Well, modeling was not as fun as I’d hoped and that foray didn’t last long; I dropped out of college and just drifted for a while. When I finally went back to school, I had a terrible GPA, so I had to start over at a technical institute. That’s where I was first acquainted with a Power Mac and graphic design software, Adobe products in particular. But when I was able to transfer to a four-year university, painting classes grabbed my attention instead of graphics and fine art became my new focus. See what I mean about floating?

So, other than sitting under the backyard stairs spinning tales, what fun stuff did you do as a child?

When I was little, we actually played cops and robbers—me and two other girls in our neighborhood had matching bikes, so we were the cops. We were all huge Madonna fans, too, and we held concerts in our back yards, dressed like punk rockers and sang with tinker toy microphones.

I remember being very rough on dolls; I cut their hair and gave them sharpie tattoos, but not to be cruel. I just wanted them to have extraordinary personalities. They also got to live in elaborate mansions made out of shoe-boxes. My grandmother collected dolls of every kind, from expensive china dolls (which she also made by hand) to gourmet Barbies. I wasn’t allowed to play with most of those, for obvious reasons. But, I’ll never forget the doll she kept hidden on the top shelf of a closet—his name was Gay Bob and he had an earring on ‘the wrong’ ear and a penis! All the cousins took regular trips to that closet to giggle and pull his pants down for a peek.

Moving forward through your life, what was it that got you started with painting?

I had a wonderful teacher and mentor named Carla Poindexter. She not only instructed me in technical skills but also introduced me to the art world, or the life of an artist. That was during my undergrad and I lived and breathed art. We all did—all my friends were artists, making art was all we cared about and all we ever wanted to talk about. It was an esoteric, elitist crowd—all encompassing.

From there, what moved you into illustrations and then finally writing?

I started illustrating as an attempt to make a living while doing what I loved. Because you can’t paint all day and pay the rent at the same time, unless someone is buying your stuff! I always had a hard time with selling my artwork, I guess because painting wasn’t commercial in any way for me. The first book that I published myself was an illustrated version of Song of Solomon, and once I learned how to actually produce an ebook, a whole new world opened up for me. I had always loved to write; I just didn’t know how to make a living doing that until the Amazon Kindle came on the scene.

Speaking of books, you have a new release out: The Tramp. Could you share a bit of the ‘about’ as well as how that story came to fruition?

The Tramp is about a group of friends in a small town who are unknowingly caught up in a strange, metaphysical cycle that’s been churning there for centuries. I think of it as a sort of haunting. The Tramp is the first book in a series of four, The Bound Chronicles, and each book will solve a piece of the puzzle. The friends have to first figure out that this cycle is even spinning, then understand how each person fits into it (how he or she is bound to this haunting), and finally they will have to break the cycle in order to survive.

This idea gradually developed as I was writing my first draft, through research I was doing on the history of the Appalachian Mountain area. That’s vaguely where the story takes place, though Shirley is a fictitious town and I never actually even reveal in which state Shirley is located. The geography of the region, the waves of colonial settlers and their impact on the indigenous population, and artifacts from ancient peoples dating back to earlier than 1500 BCE was fascinating to me. This haunting that I dreamed up was a way for me to tie the present to the past in an interesting way.

What, if anything, do you hope your readers take away from The Tramp?

I want them to be entertained! I hope my readers have a blast reading The Tramp, and that they want to read more.

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

Book two is already in the works; it’s called The Glamour and I hope to have it finished by April 13, 2016. I also have a serial coming of age novel coming out July 1, 2015, called Catchpenny, starring two minor characters from The Tramp. I’d like to keep this process going: a book from The Bound Chronicles released each year, and a serial, offshoot novel released in between.

Lately, I’ve been writing flash fiction on my blog and it is the most fun! I think keeping each piece to under three hundred words is the perfect exercise for me right now—brushin’ up my chops. Readers can look forward to plenty of flash fiction from me; I love it.

I’ve also decided to produce an illustrated series of books for a slightly younger audience, but the project is still in its infancy and I can’t really say much about it yet.

And finally, Sarah, are there any words of wisdom that you’d like to share with fellow authors and/or artists?

The indie author/publishing scene is exploding with talent and opportunity right now—we are living in such an exciting time for book lovers! It’s still an emerging market, though, so big changes that we can’t even imagine could be on the horizon. I would encourage anyone who loves to read, write, or illustrate to just dive in and be as involved, supportive, and informed as possible.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah Wathen is an artist, author, and founder of the independent publishing house, LayerCake Productions. She was trained in Classical Painting at the University of Central Florida, and then received her Master’s in Fine Art from Parsons School of Design in New York City. If Florida was where she discovered her passion, New York was the place she found her voice. “Writing a book was my obvious next step, once I realized I’d been trying to tell stories with pictures for years,” Sarah says about transitioning from visual artist to novelist. “Painting with words is even more fun than painting with oil.” She describes world-building with language–developing characters, constructing settings and plots, and inventing history–as a power trip that everyone should try at least once.
If only she had as much control over her Bichon Frisées as she does over her narratives. A devoted animal lover, she populates every story with at least one of her pets–especially the dearly departed ones, as therapy for an aching heart.

Sarah lives in Florida with her husband, son, and at least a dozen imaginary friends from her two novels, The Tramp and Catchpenny.

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EXCERPT:

“Come on, I’ll show you how to find rubies in the creek.”

The evergreen forest closed in around John and Candy. They stepped over loose earth and around algae-covered boulders, still slippery from a recent rain. John spotted a patch of bright orange mushrooms sprouting around the base of an enormous pine tree.

“Which alien planet sent those as spies?” he wondered aloud.

Delighted, Candy decided that they must find clues to lead them to the mushroom spaceship. No rubies were discovered that day, but John did find a bright red ladybug that he swore bit his nose, despite Candy’s protestations that “fairies” don’t bite. Candy found blue flowers with yellow sunny centers and John helped her lace them into her braids. She threaded her fingers with his when it was time to head back.

“Candy,” said a deep, quiet voice.

John jumped and Candy yelped.

“Oh my gosh. You scared me, Uncle Brian,” she said, grabbing her chest. John turned to see a tall thin man in faded jeans and a worn plaid flannel shirt: cuffs unbuttoned and gaping wide at his wrists. He was walking up the road towards them, just outside the little woodland. “Where’d you come from?”

“Candace, you need to come with me. Right now.” He was gruff and stony-eyed.

“In the truck?” Candy peered around him at an old blue pick-up. Its door was ajar. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re late, time to go home.” He held out his hand and flicked his fingers, impatient and distracted. “Just come with me. Now.”

“Jeez. Come on, John,” said Candy, tugging her new best friend’s hand.

Uncle Brian barked, “No. Just you. Let’s go—now.”

“But…” Candy let go of John, pink blooming across her face. “His grandma lives right next door to Grandma Catherine. He’s visitin’ from the city—”

“We’re not going to Grandma Catherine’s. Your mom wants me to bring you home.” Her uncle clenched his jaw and gestured towards the truck again.

The pick-up’s engine ticked out tense seconds. John strained his vision and could just see the limp figure of another kid asleep on the bench inside.

Candy followed his line of sight and perked up. “Andy’s with you?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” Uncle Brian said, his tone softening and his smile returning.

The smile looked forced to John.

“Okay. Well…bye.” Candy dove in for a hug. She squeezed his waist, leaned back and shrugged, “You just follow the trail around either way. It leads you right back to your grandma’s house. Or mine. It just circles the woods. Sorry.” She turned to walk with her uncle, without taking his hand.

“I can find it,” John said, not entirely certain that he could. But the unfamiliar trail was not what was setting his nerves on edge. That kid in the car looked more passed out than asleep; and John didn’t like the way Candy’s uncle smiled with his mouth but not his eyes. “Bye.”

John watched her walk away, her cut-off jean shorts still damp and muddy in the rump, and her coppery braids twisting down her back, trailing blue flowers with every step. She got into the cab next to her “sleeping” cousin—pinned between him and Uncle Brian—and waved from behind a filthy window. Her uncle slammed his door, avoiding John’s gaze. Then, the ratty truck spun its wheels hard, and they peeled away off the grassy shoulder, tires squealing on the asphalt. John gasped and trotted over to the road to see them racing away in a cloud of dust.

“No…”

He sprinted home, his feet pounding the packed earth and his lungs choking on their exit.

GIVEAWAY:

The author is giving away the following gifts to one winner of the Rafflecopter.

1. Signed print copy of the book + Kindle download
2. MP3 download of The Tramp theme song, “Bound Hearts”
3. Cover art T-shirt

a Rafflecopter giveaway