INTERVISTA
What
was your inspiration for Radiant?
I was working on another book
called Seranfyll at the time, but I
ran out of ideas about 20 pages into it and set it aside. I then came across
these random science articles--some were about comets and others were about
health, for instance. I can't remember where the possessing idea came from, but
I started to wonder what it would be like for a person to almost die and then
get possessed by something that wasn't a ghost or an alien. The story grew from
there into Radiant. After I got Radiant out of my system, I came back to
Seranfyll and finished that as well.
Do
you have any other works in progress?
I always have WIPs! I'm
working a historical fiction YA that I'm keeping under wraps for now
(translation: I haven't gotten very far on it, lol!). And recently, I pulled
out some of my old art supplies and started re-learning how to draw. I'm not
very good at it, but if you're interested in seeing a sampling of what I've
done since April, check out my blog at christinadaley.blogspot.com.
What
is your writing process like?
I'm not entirely sure, lol!
It's different for each project. I don't outline, but I may write a bunch of
notes or even a working synopsis (that ALWAYS changes by the time the first
draft stage). Sometimes I write the first few chapters long hand, and other
times I'll go straight to the computer and start typing. Sometimes I write at
my desk, but I've been favoring my couch lately because it's more comfortable.
Any
writing tips you would like to share?
Read well and as often as you
can! Certainly read in the genre you write in, but also read in other genres
for the sake of enjoyment and perspective. I'm a pretty slow reader, so I don't
get to read a whole lot of books each year. But I jump around genres a lot,
from kids books and classics to manga. And don't shy away from books you think
aren't well done, since those are valuable at teaching how you don't want to
write. The other tip I'd
give is to do it for the love of the game. There is a business aspect to be
aware of when you decide to publish your work for profit. But at the end of the
day, write because you love to tell stories and because this is the medium by
which your thoughts flow best. If you write for any other reason, you're
probably wasting time.
What
are your favorite books?
That's tough! But at the top
of the list is C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the
Witch, and the Wardrobe. I also really loved Ender's Game (looking forward to the movie when it comes out!). And
this may be just because I'm learning how to draw right now, but two manga that
I really enjoyed are Fullmetal Alchemist
by Hiromu Arakawa and Bleach by Tite
Kubo (although, I haven't read Bleach
beyond the anime run).
How
can readers contact you?
All my contact information is
on my blog (christinadaley.blogspot.com),
including my email and links to my Facebook page and Twitter. I tend to get
really quiet on social media whenever I'm working on a project (like now!), but
if you @ me on Twitter or post something on FB or email me, I'll definitely
respond.
ESTRATTI
#1
A voice called to her. It seemed close, and it was
getting louder as the pain got sharper."Hey? Hey! Are you all right?"
it asked.
Mary blinked several times before she could finally see
again. She was in the middle of the street. The cars had stopped and people on
the sidewalk were staring.
"Are you all right?" the voice asked again.
It was coming from a man wearing some type of uniform.
"What…?" Mary tried to say more, but her
voice suddenly stopped working.
"Careful," he said as he helped her up.
"Looks like you can move all right. Here, let's get you out of the
street."
He helped her over to the sidewalk. "Stay here.
Someone's calling the paramedics." And then he was gone.
Mary sat there, still in a daze. She started noticing
familiar stuff all over the ground—an open book bag, books, folders, unused
tampons, a shoe, and an apple with one bite mark. Her eyes followed the trail of
debris to a brilliant red sports car, half of which was smashed in by a city
bus.
What had happened? Mary studied the whole scene, trying
to puzzle together the pieces. Then it dawned on her. The car had hit her. Not
intentionally. She had run in front of the bus without knowing it. It was about
to hit her, but the car hadgotten in the wayfirst. It had saved her life.
Mary thought about looking in the car. Then her feet
sorta moved without her meaning them to, and she made her way to the passenger
door. She recognized the person inside. Carter. She knew his last name, but she
couldn't think of what it was. He was slumped over the seat with blood oozing
all over his face. His eyes were shut.
Mary knocked on the window. The tears in her hand
stung.
No response.
She beat the window with her fist.
Still nothing.
Mary stared. She couldn't believe it. On any other day,
she wouldn't exchange two words with this guy. Just yesterday, he nearly mowed
down an elderly couple while driving out of the school lot. Mary had secretly
wished he'd be taught a lesson.But she didn't mean this.
She tried the door handle, but it was still locked.
Suddenly, Carter's eyes flickered opened. He looked straight at her.
Mary gasped and pressed her face against the window.
Carter's eyes closed.
She stared at him, waiting for him to open them again.
Waiting for any sign of life. But he was still like he was before.
Hands suddenly took hold of Mary, pulling her away from
the car. Her feet moved on their own again. Someone was yelling "Miss"
a lot. Parts of her brain found other noises too, like sirens, voices, beeping,
and other things. The hands directed her to sit on something hard and cold.
"Miss? Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?"
Mary didn't answer. She still hadn't found her voice, and
her mind was fuzzy, too.
"Is that her bag there? Does she have a driver's
license?"
A different person spoke. "No license, but I found
a student ID. Her name's Mary Phan. She's seventeen and a junior here at Lewis
Prep."
Mary heard a third voice. "I just talked with some
of the kids on the sidewalk. One of them said her mom's a nurse at the memorial
hospital."
"Find out how to contact the mom. Anyone see what
happened?"
"Cops are questioning witnesses right now. Looks
like she ran in front of the bus. It would've nailed her if that sportster hadn't
gotten in the way."
"Anything on the bus or the driver of the car?"
"Everyone on the bus looks fine. The car belongs
to a kid named Carter Maxwell. Also a junior." A sigh. "I wouldn't
hold my breath. He looks really bad in there." Mary tuned out everything else. All sights. All sounds. The only thing she could see in her mind was
Carter staring at her.
#2
"What about the kid the red car?" Mary asked.
The doctor took off his glasses. "I'm sorry. He
didn't make it."
Mary stared at him. "But he looked at me."
Mom and the doctor exchanged concerned glances. Mary
looked down at her bandaged hands, trying hard to remember. A lot of details
still weren't clear, but she did remember Carter opening his eyes. If only for
a quick moment. "Can I see him?" she asked
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Mom
said.
"Mom," Mary said. "Please."
Mom's brow wrinkled. Then, she sighed. "We can see
if his parents will allow it."
The doctor released her, and Mary left the room with
her mother. When they got to the end of the hall, they saw a homely couple
speaking with one of the ER surgeons. The woman was crying, and the man
clutched her as if he was keeping her from falling apart.
"I'm very sorry Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell," the
doctor said.
"We're not the Maxwells," the man said.
"I'm Marcos Romero, and this is my wife Linda. We're their housekeepers.
Carter's father and stepmother are out of the country right now."
"I see," the doctor said. "Have either
of you contacted his parents? Or his mother?"
"I called and left a message for Mr.
Maxwell," Mr. Romero said. "Carter's mother past away several years
ago from cancer."
Mrs. Romero wailed. From the way she was crying, she
might as well have been Carter's mom. Mary wished that she could cry with her.
Mom once joked that Mary was born with the tiniest tear ducts in the world, so
she didn't cry often. Now, she wished she could drum up a couple tears, if
anything to not seem so unsympathetic.
Mary looked at her mother, who nodded. Then, she
cautiously approached them. "Excuse me. But I'm Mary. I'm the…what I mean
is…." She couldn't find the right thing to say. Mary had always been
terrible with words. Especially the sensitive ones needed for things like this.
Mrs. Romero looked at her disheveled school uniform and
her bandaged hands and knees. "You
were the girl who was almost hit by the bus," she said.
"Are you all right?" Mr. Romero asked.
Mary nodded. "I am, thank you. But I was wondering
if I could see him? Carter, I mean."
"I would advise against that," the surgeon
said. "The body…I mean Carter…is not—"
"Please," Mary begged.
The stout couple looked at one another. At last, Mrs.
Romero said, "Let her."
The doctor looked at her. At last, he sighed and
gestured for Mary to follow him.
Mary was used to hospitals, ever since Mom became a
nurse. But she had never seen an operating room occupied. Instruments and
equipment were still in the places where the doctors and nurses had left them
when they were trying to save Carter's life. At the center was the operating
table with a still figure on it, covered with a bloody sheet.
The doctor took part of the sheet. "Are you sure
about this?"
No, Mary thought. But she nodded nonetheless.
He pulled the sheet down to Carter's neck.
Mary stared at the broken, pale face of a boy she
hardly knew.
"I'll give you a few minutes." The doctor
left the room to wait outside.
Mary studied Carter's closed eyes. Maybe when they had
opened in the car, it was because of an involuntary spasm. Or maybe she really
had just imagined it.
Mary bowed her head, once again wishing she could cry
now. But all she could offer was a meager, "I'm sorry."
Mary took one last look at Carter as she turned to
leave. But she stopped.
A single tear slowly fell from the corner of Carter's
right eye.
Mary rubbed her eyes, making sure her vision was clear.
Then she looked again.
Another tear escaped from the corner of Carter's eye.
Mary bolted from the room. "He's crying!"
Everyone looked at her like she was a lunatic.
"Mary, calm down," Mom said.
"But Mom, he's crying!"
Mary repeated. "He has tears coming from his eyes."
The doctor looked at her curiously. "Are you sure?
Maybe the tears came from you?"
Mary frowned. Couldn't he tell she wasn't crying?
"You have to check him again," she said.
The Romeros looked at the doctor, like they had seen a
glimmer of hope struggling through the sorrow. He sighed and shrugged, but he
turned and went back into the operating room.
A tense few minutes passed. Suddenly, the doctor burst
from the door, calling for his team. Several nurses rushed in and the door
closed again.
Mary and the others hardly breathed, let alone spoke,
as they waited in the hall.
Finally, after what felt like ages had passed, the
doctor came out again, followed by the undeniable sound of the heart monitor
beeping.
Carter was alive.
#3
The
bell rang again, and Mr. Hubert began the Pre-Calculus lesson. But Mary hardly
paid attention as she thought about what Sienna had told her. Was Carter really
here at school? Now? She only had her last class with him—Physics. He normally
sat in the back with some of his friends, while Mary took one of the lonely
desks near the front. She'd have to wait until then to see if he was in a body
cast or something.
When
Pre-Cal was finished, Mary gathered up her stuff and headed for the door with
the others as usual. But the moment she stepped outside, she collided with
another person. "Gah!"she cried as waves of pain surged through her
bruised side, bringing her to her knees.
"Mary!"
Sienna said as she came over to her. "Geez Carter. What's wrong with
you?"
Mary
looked up. The person she had run into was Carter Maxwell. He wasn't in a body
cast and he didn't have crutches or anything. He looked normal, actually.
Except for the thick black sweater he wore over his school uniform.
"I
am sorry," he said. "I did not mean to cause harm." He then
knelt down and looked Mary in the eyes. There was a subtle spark of life in his
green irises. "Are you all right, Mary?" he asked.
She
didn't say anything for a moment. Mary didn't know that Carter knew her name,
and she had never noticed he had green eyes before. Nor how nice they looked
when he was concerned.
She
shook her head quickly to break off his gaze. "No. I mean, yeah. I'm
fine."
The
corners of his mouth curled into a half-smile. "I am glad."
People
were staring at them. Mary blushed under the added attention, and she quickly
got to her feet.
"Need
help carrying your stuff?" Sienna asked.
"Thanks,"
Mary said. "But I'm just gonna swing by my locker. I'll be fine."
"All
right. See you in Art." Sienna shot one last warning look at Carter before
heading down the hall.
Mary
picked up her bag and turned the other direction. As she walked, she realized
people were still looking at her. That's when she noticed Carter was walking
next to her. And he was doing it in a really weird way. He made each step deliberate,
like he was doing mini-lunges.
"What
are you doing?" she asked.
"I
am walking," he said.
"Um.
Okay." Mary looked forward again, thinking that when she got to her
locker, he'd go away. But he didn't. He stopped with her.
"I'm
all right, Carter," she said. "You don't have to help me."
"Okay,"
he said.
Mary
looked at him from the corner of her eye as she put her Pre-Cal stuff away and
got her Art things. "Are you all right?"
Carter
smiled. "I am. Thank you for asking."
Sienna
was right. Carter was acting weird. That bus sure did a job on his brain.
"Don't
you have to go to class or something?" she asked.
"Yes,"
he said.
Mary
closed her locker and headed towards Art. Carter followed. The halls were
emptying as kids got to their rooms, but it was still embarrassing with him
lunging next to her. Mary stopped and faced him. "Listen, Carter. I really
am all right. You don't have to walk with me to class." In fact, she
preferred that he didn't.
He
smiled. "You said that already."
"Yeah,"
she said. "So…stop following me."
Carter
wrinkled his brow. "Do I make you uncomfortable? Walking with you like
this?"
Give
the man a prize. "Uh, yeah," Mary said. "Very."
He
looked a little sad suddenly. "I am sorry. I will leave you alone."
He turned and walked down the other hall.
Mary
felt bad. She didn't mean to make him sad. She just wanted him to stop
following her. She sighed and headed down the same hall to apologize. But when
she got there, she didn't see him. "Carter?"
He
was nowhere. Despite the weird lunges, he apparently could move quickly.
That's
when she remembered. For days, Mary had put herself through a series of guilt
trips, thinkingCarterwas going to die or end up a vegetable.She had never
considered everything going back to normal.Or, relatively normal.This was the
first time she'd seen Carter since the hospital, and she had forgotten to thank
him for what he had done.