Travel into the future with my guest today, Rosemary Cole. It's a great place full of zombies.
Rosemary Cole was born in a small New
England town. She has loved science fiction and fantasy since she was old
enough to go to the library and take out a tall stack of books from the
children's section. Since then she's been in many places around the world and
done many things, but still loves working and playing with words.
Interview
- Tell us a
little about yourself?
I’ve always loved to read, and I’ve worked with words in one way or
another all my life. I’ve been a medical editor, a freelance fiction editor,
taught English to foreign language speakers. But writing science fiction and
fantasy is my favorite thing in life so far, and I’m so happy I have a chance
to do it. I’m also a traveler and enjoy seeing other countries and their
cultures.
- Tell
us something about how you write? i.e. are you a plotter or a pantser? Do
you have any weird or necessary writing habits or rituals?
I’ve always been a plotter. I need to know the ending and how
the characters get there before I sit down to write, and I start by writing a
detailed synopsis, then flesh that out into a book. I’ve heard that people like
Stephen King just sit down and let fly on a vague idea. King himself has said
that often these attempts never turn into a novel. Personally, I don’t see the
point in wasting time on misfires.
- Could
you tell us a bit about your most recent book?
Absolutely! The X-Variant comes from my dreams of a utopian
world where there’s no want or suffering, only “peace, love and understanding,”
to quote Elvis Costello. Wouldn’t it be ironic, I thought, to devise such a
society from the ashes of man’s own self-destructive tendencies? And so the
Unathi were born—a posthuman symbiotic species evolved from humans and the
manmade synthetic virus that nearly wiped them out. The virus evolves into a
beneficial symbiont in each individual, uniting and connecting everyone. Of
course, then I just had to take that perfect society and plunge it straight
into a living hell! *evil cackle* I suppose in some ways, my writing reflects
my fears for the human race. It does seem that we are intent on destroying
ourselves and our planet; I think everyone is aware of that now, and we need to
process it through stories. (Jamie’s note: Unfortunately, I believe Rosemary is
right. We will keep denying Climate Change until we are roasted.)
- What
is your favorite writing tip or quote?
I think it’s the famous Hemingway quote: “There is nothing to
writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Perhaps because of
the Internet and the self-publishing phenomenon, people tend to think anyone
can become an author, but to write a decent book is very, very hard work.
- Tell
us a little about your plans for the future. Do you have any other books in the
works?
Right now I’m working on The D-Revenant, book two in this
series, which is called The Guardians. After that, I have some ideas to choose
from. The two most likely are a stand-alone modern fantasy about an abused boy
who escapes to an alternate magical dimension where he has to battle his own
mother, who is an evil queen there; or another sci-fi series about a group of
throwaway kids who discover an alien elixir that turns them into superhumans.
Readers, which one do you think I should work on? Drop me a comment on my
website, www.rosemarycoleauthor.com,
and let me know. Up until the publication date in April, I’m also giving away
free electronic ARCs of The X-Variant. Just ask!
Where can we find you online?
Website: https://www.rosemarycoleauthor.com
Twitter: @RosemaryColeSF
THE X-VARIANT
 |
| Jamie's Note: I love this cover. |
In 2079, mankind nearly destroys itself
when it unleashes a devastating synthetic virus. Over the following centuries, however,
the virus evolves into a beneficial symbiont that enhances and interconnects
its human hosts, and a new post-human race is born: the Unathi. But in 2616,
their peaceful utopia is violently disrupted when the symbiont begins to mutate
into something terrible.
Twenty-two-year-old Kala is one of those called upon to travel back in time to
2079—the time of the viral pandemic—to change the course of the future.
Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Timeline 1
SanFran, North American Union
June 8, 2079
21:48 hours
SanFran, North American Union
June 8, 2079
21:48 hours
Brandon was slowly
coming to the realization that they were starving. He watched as Jennie settled
their one-month-old baby into a cradle they’d fashioned from a box. The
candlelight threw grotesque, shifting shadows on the walls of the room as
Jennie moved about, her nightshirt hanging off one bony shoulder. She finally
came over and joined him in bed, and Brandon blew out the candle. He held her
slight form close, stroking her hair in the dark.
“She’s still hungry,” Jennie murmured. “I don’t think
I’m making enough milk for her.”
Brandon nodded against the top of her head. They had
all been steadily losing weight, ever since the virus had gone global. It was
called the Synthetic Hemorrhagic Airborne Virus, or SHAV. Basically, you
coughed your lungs out. They said it was carried by respiratory droplets, and
for a while everyone you saw was wearing one of those surgical masks. That
didn’t seem to slow it down at all, though; it marched across the globe
relentlessly, leaving a swath of death in its wake. Everything ground to a
halt, including food deliveries.
Before the virus, the city’s grocery stores had held
about three days’ worth of food. Once the shelves were empty, people had begun
raiding the commune’s gardens, and now they had been stripped bare. The members
of the Green Resistance commune were reduced to living on their emergency
stores and whatever they could scavenge.
At first, Brandon had thought they would be overrun and
have to leave the commune, but as deaths from the virus increased (including
some of their own), the gang raids began to decrease. It was decided it would
be best if they stayed where they were. The remaining Greeners, as the locals
referred to them, had retreated from their converted greenhouses to the top two
floors of a large commercial building across the street from their city garden.
Their political philosophy didn’t keep them from buying and using firearms, and
the place was fairly easy to defend. But food—that was turning into a huge
problem. Every day, the rations Sean doled out seemed to be fewer.
“Yeah, something has to be done about it,” Brandon
murmured. “But try not to worry about it tonight, babe. I’ll talk to Sean in
the morning.”
He felt her nod against his shoulder, and she then drifted
off into sleep despite her worries.
Sleep didn’t come so easily to Brandon, however. He was
deeply worried about Jennie. After losing her mother—her only real family—to
SHAV last month, she’d had to give birth here in somewhat primitive conditions.
Thank God, the Greeners had plenty of medical supplies, and Andrea had some experience
in attending births. Both baby and mother did just fine. But since giving
birth, Jennie had developed deep circles under her dark, almond-shaped eyes,
and her hair was dull and lank.
This was all worrisome enough, but Brandon’s biggest
nightmare was seeing Jennie and the baby succumb to SHAV and die right before
his eyes.
Please, God, no, he prayed, squeezing his eyes shut to
ward off that dreadful image.
He had just drifted off to sleep when a sudden loud pop
from outside startled him awake. The sound had come from the front of the
building, toward the street. He scurried toward the window, half-crouched. There
was shouting, followed by more pops of gunfire. The Greeners standing watch on
the ground floor were shooting back at whoever it was—probably raiders.
Jennie hastily lifted the baby from her bed, wrapping
her in her blanket.
Brandon moved to the side of the window, lifted the
rough blanket nailed over it and peered out, but could see nothing in the dark
except for a couple of small lights. They flashed and bounced around, moving
irregularly toward the building.
Sounds of fighting drifted up the stairs, and he
realized with a shock that some of the raiders were already inside. “The fire
escape, quick!” he hissed at Jennie.
They fled to the back room, groping their way in the
dark. A platform outside the window held a ladder that could be lowered to the
ground, giving them a slim chance of escaping between the buildings. A sliver
of moon emerged from behind scudding clouds, giving them a bit more light as
Jennie scrambled out onto the fire escape.
Brandon had just handed the baby out to her through the
window when Sean and Mike burst into the room. The two men spun around and
fired out into the dark corridor leading from the stairwell. There was a burst
of automatic weapon return fire, and both men fell to the floor.
Brandon looked down. Sean’s eyes were open, staring up
at him sightlessly. The Green Resistance leader’s long, dust-colored hair lay
in a pool of blood, blacker than ink in the dim light.
Brandon’s heart began to pound, his whole body quivering
with each heavy beat. “Go down, go down!” he cried to Jennie, throwing himself
in front of the window.
A masked face appeared in the doorway. Light flashed
painfully in Brandon’s eyes, and he realized it was mounted on the barrel of a
gun. There was a loud bang, and
something slammed into him. Suddenly he was looking at the ceiling. There was
no pain, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t feel a thing when they dragged Jennie
and the baby from the fire escape back into the room, trampling him in the
process. The room was fading away, as were the sounds of Jennie’s screams and
the raiders’ rough voices as they disappeared down the stairwell.
Brandon lay drowning in helplessness and grief. He
dimly heard his daughter crying, as if from a great distance, and somehow knew
that she was here in the room with him, left behind. He prayed they hadn’t hurt
her. He wanted to soothe her, tell her he was here with her, but nothing came
out when he tried to speak. Then the sound of her crying faded away too, and he
was in a place that was gray everywhere except for a faint glow of light in the
distance. He began to move toward it.
Keep your eyes out for the release of what looks like an amazing novel.
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