Saturday, August 30, 2014

Justine's Journal #2

52 Weeks 500 Words


This is how it began: Justine (not her real name) decided to write 500 words (or as near as), anything goes, per week for 52 weeks. She would then submit it for anonymous posting, via me, her friend. Perhaps a pattern will emerge from her words, but at this stage it’s more an experiment I have agreed to share in. I’ll attempt to draw conclusions at the end of this. Stay tuned if this resonates with you.

Week 2

"After the first time writing again after a very long while, I wanted to go crazy and just write write write! So many thoughts swirled in my mind and I needed to record them immediately. I resisted the temptation, however, in order to have something to say the next time I sat down to be honest in my recording. And now I’ll let you in on a little secret. I wrote nothing for many days, couldn’t be bothered. Having ignored the prompting, I also lost the will.

Cold and damp has depressed me quite a bit, but this day is sunny and warm and suddenly I have so much energy. Spring clean! Yes, I went there for most of the day, airing stuff out and so forth, and barely found time to sit and do this. Strange isn’t it, how physical action is able to overtake what the mind is. Conversely, and I know this too well, the mind can entirely ignore physical action. The trick is to strike a balance. No mind, no energy, but no action, no energy either.

Why could I not be bothered to write? I wasn’t alone. This proves writing is in fact a solitary choice, that the personalities of others tend to curtail our thoughts. We begin to react to them and thus lose a bit of ourselves. I’m not saying this is a bad thing, for there are times when a community/family, together with all the personalities, is actually enjoyable, and also imperative to long term mental health. Everyone learns one from the other. No one is ever entirely without the need for companionship. But in short doses for a writer! We do thrive in a quiet space.

Today was an upbeat day. When I returned to edit and tweak this I made note of what brought on a good day and what heralded a gloomy day. I’m hoping for some insight into myself. We all need to evaluate ourselves, don’t we? We all have different means of doing so. This is one I aim to see through. Always I have been guilty of never looking at myself as objectively as possible. The bystander, the witness to a life. How very sad. I begin to wonder if this will in any way impact on future choices and decisions. Will knowing myself better force me into absolute change? Or will knowing I’m not so bad off fill me with the kind of relief that allows me to go on as I have to date, only with a clearer idea of what makes me tick? Ha, the results at the end of this might just surprise you and me both!

It’s time to talk about something different, and I’m thinking music … because I’m listening as I write. Stay tuned! Next time, I promise, I’ll tell you about music."



Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Writer's Wednesday: An interview with Joanne Sexton

Hello, everyone! here is the second in our series of Thorstruck Author Interviews - meet Jo!


Jo Sexton is an Australian romance writer and mother of two.  She always dreamed of writing novels and has been an avid reader most of her life.  In between being a mum and writing, she runs a small bookkeeping business. Published with Night Publishing in 2011 Jo's novel Spoilt quickly shot up the Amazon charts, fast becoming a bestselling novel around the world. Jo also recently became a qualified florist.

Welcome Jo!



1. What sparked your interest in writing? Your proverbial light-bulb moment?

There wasn't a moment where I thought, I've got to do this. It was more of a feeling. I went through a particularly difficult time in my life. I needed an escape, so I decided to do what I’d always wondered if I could do, I wrote a first draft in two weeks. I've always been quite imaginative and when I started, I think I opened a door as it all poured out after that.

2. Which genre are you most comfortable writing in?

Romance. I can’t seem to write without it!

And we love reading it! 3. Would you say you draw most often from your own knowledge base when writing or do you research for fresh material?

It’s a bit of both. I incorporate my life experiences with extensive research.

4. Tell us a bit about your work. How, for instance, do you choose your titles?

I always seem to have a title when I start. An idea will spark for an opener (I have many of these waiting to be finished) and the title will come with it. I used to be a quick first draft writer but over time I've found it easier to edit as I go. I’m now a slow and steady writer now rather than rushing through it. Unless of course the muse comes calling and I have to get the story out.

5. We love to read excerpts. Share with us your favourite bit of writing from you latest book. 

Tessa winks before returning her attention back to the performer. A tingle spreads across my skin. I avert my gaze too but can feel a blush creep into my cheeks. I can’t focus on the music; I want to stare at her beauty again. What am I doing? Emotions I’m unable to fathom play havoc in my mind. I sneak another gaze to find Molly watching me. I smile and squeeze her hand. I also didn't miss a fleeting smile from the object of my scrutiny. I applaud with the crowd when the act finishes and I feel two sets of eyes on me.

“You were better,” Molly says giving me an excuse to bring my gaze to her. Why do I need one? I should be looking at her.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice an amused smile on Tessa’s face, as though she is privy to a joke I’m unaware of. It’s unnerving and thrilling all at once.

From An American Girl




Love it!
6. Who do you identify with most in your work? And why?

Each character is different to each other and to me, but at the same time, I think there’s a little bit of me in every character. There isn't one particular character I relate more to than others. If I had to choose, the closest one to me I would say Justine from An American Girl. When it comes to leading men that’s another story again ... I have my favourites.

*wink* don't we all!
7. If you could choose who would play (the character you identify with) in the movie or series made from your work, who would it be?

For every other novel I've finished I have my leading actors already cast, except for Justine. I haven’t found anyone yet who could be Justine.

8. Which four words would you use to describe yourself? Passionate, kind, sassy and compassionate.
9. Which four words would you use to describe your work? Same as above! J 

10. I have to throw this in! That list of favourites we’re all interested in! 

Favourite book: The Bronze Horseman –Paullina Simons

Favourite movie: Love Actually

Favourite TV series: The Big Bang Theory

Favourite colour: Purple

Favourite food: Indian

Favourite drink: Champagne

Favourite pet: My cat

Favourite season: Summer

Favourite place: The beach

11. Often personal fame and prominence for your work go together, but frequently authors prefer remaining in the background while hoping their work will assume the limelight. Is this true for you, or don’t you mind a bit of fame?

A bit of fame wouldn't bother me in the least. J 


12. Tell us about your next book (we love to know what to look forward to!).

I have two books coming out in September, Fire Girl and The Chosen One. Fire Girl is the sequel to the currently released Rich Girl. It follows on from where Rich Girl left off but it is about Charlotte (sister of main character in first book) and a sexy fireman. The Chosen One is my foray into fantasy/paranormal and follows the story of Seraphina (Sera) as she finds herself in a new world full of elfin, pixies, vampires and other folk in the mystic lands. She discovers she is the human princess and is called to duty. Falling in love along the way of course.

Oooo, both sound awesome!
13. What comes next, besides a new book project? A holiday, an event?

I’m saving for a holiday at the moment, just have to decide where I want to go! No other events that I can think of ... oh I will be having a houseful of 9 year olds for my daughter’s birthday next month, that should be fun...

No doubt!!!
14. And finally, if you could choose one person, living or dead, you would like to meet, who would it be and what would you ask of that person?

Paullina Simons (Author) but I would probably be too shy to ask her anything. 

Ask away, we say :) Authors like to share ;)

Jo's latest release

Rock chicks are more complicated than they look, especially when one is becoming her destiny, the other following a classical career, and the third wheel the steaming hot lead singer of the new big thing. Scarred hearts bleed pain when the pulse of love blurs to jealousy and rage. Between family, ex-lovers, and their own clashing issues, this complicated love triangle becomes a tangled mess, leaving the shy and the reckless reeling. The future is bleak, they're isolated and misunderstood, and pride ruins passion. 

Drunken mistakes haunt Molly and Justine; their spiral into misery riveting. Strumming emotions more than guitar strings, the dynamic Justine, Tessa, and Molly, will keep you on tenterhooks of suspense in this lady on lady romance.



Writing World has reviewed Rich Girl and loved it! Writing World Review



Thank you so much for joining sharing here on Writing World, Jo! It has been a pleasure having you!




Saturday, August 23, 2014

Justine's Journal #1

52 Weeks 500 words



This is how it began: Justine (not her real name) decided to write 500 words (or as near as), anything goes, per week for 52 weeks. She would then submit it for anonymous posting, via me, her friend. Perhaps a pattern will emerge from her words, but at this stage it’s more an experiment I have agreed to share in. I’ll attempt to draw conclusions at the end of this. Stay tuned if this resonates with you.

Week 1

"Sometimes the urge to write is too strong to ignore, even when other duties have priority. Sometimes this happens when there is no real story roiling and rattling in one’s head. It is a mere wish for words. Thus this randomness now before you, weekly. I see it also as a place to unburden the conflicting and strange thoughts that swirl in my mind. Take note, it probably won’t make a whole lot of sense. It just is.

Right now I’m feeling abandoned by life as I sit alone in a small space with no means to go anywhere or do anything. I am aware this is just as much a state of mind as it is a state of circumstance. Still, it’s hard to remain positive and seek the good in what I have achieved to date when there is no one who hears or sees.
It’s cold here and that no doubt contributes to a feeling of gloom. I always say I prefer the cold, but recently it is too much.

Elaina has three blogs and it occurs to me they reflect three sides of her personality. One is all about inspiration and motivation. She share images and tale and quotes that she hopes will motivate others, but mostly she hope they will motivate me. Why does it not work? The other is a blog of images (mostly). Those strange images make one sit up and take note, or the beauty is from nature itself, which is often even more thought provoking. The blog is about catching the mind and attention of the beholder, but mostly it captures mine. The final blog is about her work, the stuff that makes a writer tick. Thus, if one is objective, there’s the inspirational, the visual and the writing. Is that why I read her blog posts and study her images, to find the sum of a personality, and thus hope to discover mine? Or are those three merely three of a host of facets? Can anyone be analysed via an online presence? Can anyone be analysed by what they read and what they search for?

I hear the birds outside and desire their freedom. I hear the sound of traffic and I want to scream. I do believe I am becoming antisocial, a recluse, and perhaps it is also this lack of involvement in modern living that creates a feeling of abandonment. Does that make sense? And even now it’s as if I stand outside of myself while writing this, an onlooker, a bystander, interesting, but what does any of it change? How does it actually matter in the grand scheme?

And then I realises the urge to write is strong and that is the real me. At this point it doesn’t matter what is written. What matters is that my fingers fly across the keyboard and for a while I feel a bit better. One day I may even publish something worth reading.

Point made, journal of the mind."



Books and Doors



Saturday Book Inspiration!

Don't you just love these?






Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Writer's Wednesday: An interview with Poppet

First up in our series of interviews with the Thorstruck family is Poppet. Many of you already know her work (we have posted a fair few reviews of Poppet's work here!) and others simply must discover this talented writer's imagination. Poppet has interviewed on Writing World before, but time has passed and we love to hear about what is new :)



Poppet is published and signed to four publishers, has over 50 novels to her credit including self published non fiction, and writes in many genres. She started her career writing for magazines and now specializes in edgy fiction of the paranormal and ghoulish. Poppet previously worked in a high profile advertising agency, taking the experience with her into her writing career when she turned her talents to book cover design and writing for magazines.

She's an Authonomy gold star holder (from Harper Collins UK), wrote as a health writer for six years (the inspiration for her recipe book), being published in consecutive issues for years in two magazines, spending a few years also doing freelance SEO writing for webdesign companies, loves to cook, grow her own food, and read. Poppet is proficient in Photoshop, having designed covers for herself and author friends, recently for the Irish publisher Tirgearr Publishing, and for Thorstruck Press.

She specalises in mythology inspired fiction, leaning toward the heretical, blaming her lineage for her preoccupation with the realms of gods and fallen angels. Poppet is published with Eibonvale Press, Wild Wolf Publishing, Vamptasy Publishing, Thorstruck Press, and previously published with Night Publishing (which closed doors), and Endaxi Press.

Welcome Poppet!




  1. What sparked your interest in writing? Your proverbial light-bulb moment?
Telling ghost stories to my friends and cousins – age 9. I knew then I had a gift for scaring the crap out of people afraid of the dark.

  1. We like having the crap scared out of us! Which genre are you most comfortable writing in?
Paranormal – I like it when normal boundaries are malleable

  1. Would you say you draw most often from your own knowledge base when writing or do you research for fresh material?
I research

  1. Tell us a bit about your work. How, for instance, do you choose your titles?
They just happen.

  1. Lucky you! Most of us sigh over titles :) We love to read excerpts. Share with us your favourite bit of writing from your latest book.
From my novel Lucem – a continuation of Seithe – due out soon.

I need my diary, I need to write this all down before I lose my moment of corny genius.
Movement swims through the haze of mirth-tears and I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle the hysterical giggles. I laugh when I'm nervous, maybe this is just stress relief.
“Once the door in your mind is left ajar you open it wider. Glad you find ancient history so hilarious. So Jamie, are you stupid?”
His bitchy tone shocks the joy right out of me and I wipe my eyes, hating him for ruining a moment of silly relief.
“What part of follow me did you not understand? Instead you grope the wall like a randy rapist. Trust, it's your default nature, yet instead of following the path I took from this room you doubted the wisdom and went looking for a logical manmade exit. Follow me, Jamie. Literally follow me. It's not a parable.”
And the obnoxious man-candy goes strutting back into nowhere from the middle of the room. Are all angels this grumpy? Bloody hell! So much for benevolent beings of happy heaven light sent to change the world in a ray of bliss.
If I was less of a lady I'd call him something really rude, but I never did like the taste of soap. And which sadist invented that punishment?
Getting annoyed I stand, stomping to the point he vanished, finding myself in a passage, like some kind of black hole portal.
Looking left, then right, I go storming to my right, rounding a corner to see him striding purposefully toward me, except now his eyes are molten silver.
“You're a real bastard, you know that?” I snap at him, ready for a decent clash of wills.
He stops walking to raise both eyebrows at me, glowering, “And who are you? Where's Seithe?”
Blinking rapidly, I don't understand what just happened. Hang on, this guy is dressed differently. Black leather jeans? Really?
“Rock star in training?” I goad. “Stone age I presume?” He won't get the humour, not knowing about how I've been thinking about Vikings and Barbarians. If it is Seithe I don't appreciate him trying to disorientate me again.
He props hands on hips, all muscle and height, giving me a skew smile, “Who the fuck are you? Where is Seithe?”
“I don't know, we're playing hide and seek. Who are you?” I say, playing along.
Instantly his smile widens and his eyes become so brilliant they seem like hot mercury, “I'm the angel you've been waiting for.” He strides right up to me so I'm nose to sternum with him, when the wanker leans down to whisper in my ear, “When was the last time you were fingered by an angel?”
“Jowendrhan, leave her alone!” shouts from behind me, and I snap around guiltily, looking from one to the other.
“There are two of you?”
The guy with the leather pants looks up, glaring at his twin image, “Seithe, you definitely have a type. Blue eyes, sun-streaked long brown hair, shorter than a pixie, no wonder you don't give a fuck about your ex.” He pats my head, leaving his hand on my crown as if I'm just a dog rescued from the pound, “So what's this one's name?”
“Jamie. Jamie, meet my brother Jo.”
I shrug his hand off me, still amazed. Seithe's eyes are back to vodka, his hair as white as his brother's now is. “Do all angels do that? You have this mega identity crisis don't you? Brown hair or white? Anaemic eyes or brown? Do you morph between short and tall too? Fat and thin?”
The brother Jo...something looks at me, his smile the kind that melts nylon underwear, “I know a great way to shut up snarky women, it's thick and long and full of god juice.”
“You're not touching her!” shouts, and before I know what the hell is going on I have doppelgangers punching each other across the wide sandstone passage, bitching and arguing in booms of Phoebe and babies, and angels and Venix, and Darise, and god knows what.
Well Seithe's brother at least seems to be more fun. Seithe's a little highly strung.
They finally stop, while I prudently stand far away from their scuffle, when Seithe (I can tell because he's wearing blue jeans), says to his assailant, “How did you find me?”
“I may be pretty, but I'm not stupid Seithe. I might be your baby brother but I've come a long way since you died. I'm not the kid you need to rescue any longer, and I'm here to crack your skull open. I'm taking it to Phoebe so she can drink wine out of it every full moon.”

  1. LOVE it! We can't wait to read it all! Who do you identify with most in your work? And why?
The sarky chic with a chip on her shoulder

  1. If you could choose who would play Ellindt in the movie or series made from your work, who would it be?
Hayden Panetierre

  1. Which four words would you use to describe yourself?
Unhinged, workaholic, defiant, fact-junkie

  1. Which four words would you use to describe your work?
Sexy, heretical, paranormal, adrenaline-rush

  1. I have to throw this in! That list of favourites we’re all interested in!
Favourite book: Spirit Walk – Charles de Lint
Favourite movie: Strange Days
Favourite TV series: X Files
Favourite colour: Pink
Favourite food: Pizza / ice-cream
Favourite drink: coffee
Favourite pet: My kitty
Favourite season: Summer
Favourite place: Bed

  1. Often personal fame and prominence for your work go together, but frequently authors prefer remaining in the background while hoping their work will assume the limelight. Is this true for you, or don’t you mind a bit of fame?
I like being unknown as far as my face goes, I don't want to be recognised, I like my anonymity. I don't dress up, wear old jeans and older shirts, my hair is usually scraped back in a pony-tail and I loathe make-up – staying incognito means I never have to make an effort and be judged for being so damn ordinary

  1. You'll never be ordinary, but writers understand the feeling! Tell us about your next book (we love to know what to look forward to!).
I'm working on a Seithe series, a paranormal teen novel, and 2 horrors. It's hard to pick just one, but here's a snippet from my teen novel...

I was not sorry they died. I probably should have been, but I wasn't. Being an orphan is a far sight better than having two working parents in a 'happy' marriage.
Mom was a Dreamer. As such she spent more time in the ether than tending to basic requirements, like worrying about my next meal. I was lucky to get bread gone green with mould and curdled yoghurt for dinner. My hair was matted and I was beyond neglect.
One day mom just disintegrated, coming apart to join the realm of her habitual dousing. Dad, who was a chef (ironic, I know) came home once a week to say his hello's and for his conjugal copulation, and found me in a state of disarray, my clothing of such a stench that he couldn't bring himself to hug me when he discovered I was abandoned.
He went after mom, to retrieve her from the Realm, and that was the last time I saw either of them. They are gone, lost in the nebulae of spirit.
I have no desire to join a Cookery as I do not share my father's passion for yelling at inept souz chefs, waiters, and cooks. He may have been famous for his Saffron Soufflé, for his genius and foul temper, but the orphanage gave me gruel (which was billions times yummier than my mother's attempts at providing dinner).
It's a cruel twist of fate that I should have been the spawn of a cookery prodigy only to never taste the delicacies which made him renown. I am the infamous child of a duo who were so far apart on the talent spectrum that I do not even fall into the shades of infrared.
My father was solidly of this world yet my mother did everything in her power to escape it. Life was not her forte, absenteeism was.
Left in the care of a state orphanage I was happier than I've ever been. I learned the basics, I was clean, fed, with a bed which was made to exact specifications each morning.
Unlike the world in the legends, this planet no longer has helpless infants. We are born intelligent, able to read, work numbers, capable and strong from birth. The legends claim infants were weak and helpless, that was a long time ago, we have genetically evolved. No longer does visual entertainment take precedence, instead we are born with a full vocabulary, able to read our own bedtime stories, able to work from the time we are two, but still tradition forces us into the annals of education so that we may master our instincts and hone our aptitude.
As such, Le'Maison Lucemlot is a benefactor of charity. Once a year he comes to the Noxperiarat Orphanage to offer scholarship to one lucky child. Doing his bit to avoid taxes, to appear altruistic, and perhaps he is, but the manner in which the child is chosen is left to chance.
We drew lots on the winter solstice. So I drew my straw from the box in his bony hand, and it was my fate to be the next one taken away from a place of sanctuary. The place I chose to call home. Away from Matron Gleam and her ample bosom and life affirming hugs, her gentle smile and kind eyes.
I left in the depth of the darkest sleet to take the sky carriage to Castle Creepy. We call it Castle Creepy, but my destination is officially known as Burroughwood Posterity Boarding School. Bleeding Hogs hauled the rickety carriage through the eerie midnight, the dawn of my future in a void so dreary it was naught but bleak.
Castle Efferhue loomed large in the Gowling District, darker than the shadows slinking through the winter brume. It glowed on the left, from the banks of Wishlake sending witchmist up as if it could steam in the cold. Steam is hot, Wishlake is so cold and gloomy it fills hearts with despair.
I know, I row on it now. I've been an attendee of Burroughwood Posterity Boarding School for thirteen years. My aptitude extends to rowing it seems, but I would beg to differ as I'm not as tall as Gray, nor as strong, and am disparaged by the elite boy's crew as I'm B team, not A.
Standing here staring at the rising mist, recalling the day I came to live inside walls three meters thick with windows liken to a goalery for criminals, I stare at the lake of my discontent from the safety of my four poster bed in the upper west dorm.
I fear Wishlake. It glows livid silver all year, it's bitter and desperate. The next regatta is on Fernobrook. Fernobrook is a raging expanse known for its incinerating waves. The trick to rowing is to row in such a way that the blade never makes a splash, not entering the liquid, nor on exit. It's a run, when the longboat skims the top with such speed that it nary touches the surface, our blades dipping in and out like pistons firing through the cosmos. If we do not row like saints on Fernobrook we'll leave the regatta disfigured, the burn marks permanent, the lavagloam singeing our skin off. We can't afford to make a splash, not this time.
Soon it will be Hearken Break, when all those privileged scholars go home to their real families. I don't have one so am left here with just one other for companionship. Arlene, the school's resident slut. She and I are the only two orphans still residing here. I was the last one chosen by Le'Maison Lucemlot, after me he changed his policy, adopting Coldjik women from the glacier borderlands, bringing them in to be chambermaids in our macabre halls.
They're gorgeous, every last one of them, and it's a rite of passage to lose one's virginity to the Coldjik maids. I've caught Le'Maison glowering at many a pert bottom bent in the act of polishing, serving and scrubbing, to wonder exactly what his goal was in adopting the modern version of Russian mail order brides.
Black eyes lined with fierce wrinkles skewer us at every meal, at every assembly, at every regatta. Lord Lucemlot is regal, intimidating, and my warden. This year I finally join his class of ectonomics. I've heard he is a hard taskmaster and impossible to please.
My day is coming. I have to prove myself this year or risk losing my second home. This year I will beat Gray when it comes to selections. I will train harder than I ever have, quash my fears of the ethereal lakes and their dangers, and hopefully this Hearken Break I'll lose my virginity too. Either to Ivana (the maid who cleans my quarters), or to Arlene. She's done everyone else, I don't see why she won't do me too.

  1. Ooooo, another winner! What comes next, besides a new book project? A holiday, an event?
Nothing comes next, my life consists of editing, book cover design, and writing. I do it because it makes me happy. Being an author means I haven't been able to afford to have a holiday in over a decade – besides visiting my mother twice after her hubby died, the last real holiday I've had in 20 years was a 2 week stay at my hubby's grandmother's for my honeymoon. There are no plans to be made when you live never knowing what you'll earn this month, if anything. People assume authors are well off and rolling in it, I'm here to tell them being an author is a 24 hour job, working non stop, editing until your sight blurs, and it won't make you rich or famous, it truly is a labour of compulsion and love.

  1. And finally, if you could choose one person, living or dead, you would like to meet, who would it be and what would you ask of that person?
I'd like to meet Immanuel (aka Jesus) and tell him to put Paul (Saul) to death before he can infiltrate his message and core group - which made it a religion which serves fear instead of love. I'd also tell him to leave a lot of evidence of his existence, because as things stand right now he's a myth without a shred of proof to his existence. I'd tell him to write his own damn gospels instead of having everything delivered second hand.

(Read more about Immanuel and Paul in The Nephilim Cartel)

Find Poppet on her website and over at Thorstruck

Thank you for spending time with Writing World, Poppet. It's always a pleasure having you here!





Writer's Wednesday Returns to Writing World!

Hello, everyone. Today Writing World resumes posting a writer's interview. Every week, every Wednesday, read all about the worlds of writing our writers delve into! 


We will be concentrating on Thorstruck Press' authors for the next few weeks, because Thorstruck has become the go-to place for great books and wonderful authors, and the people both doing the writing and working behind the scenes have become a family, and Writing World would love to share that with you.
Sit back, relax, and have a good read. Comments are ever welcome!