I had the distinct pleasure of being invited to be a guest blogger in Sarah Cass’s blog, Sarah’s Story Lines. Each day has a different them, and I choose “Thursday Tell-All,” the character interview day.
I encourage you to visit her site, even make a comment there. Nothing is as supportive and encouraging to a blogger as comments (hint, hint).
Here is the interview from the blog (her post also includes and excerpt, bio, blurb . . . all the usual stuff. See if you like the excerpt I chose).
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Hi. This is Jane Austeen, and welcome to Proud but Not Prejudiced. Today I’m here with Amy Evans, an animated redhead in her early thirties. Amy is dressed rather unusually for our show in a full-length classic black gown. But I must say, Amy, that off-the-shoulder style and deep plunging back really show off your gorgeous tan. I take it you’ve spent a lot of time out in the sun lately?
AMY: Thanks for inviting me today, Jane. Yes, we moved from Cincinnati down to Providenciales this summer. No more snow for this gal. And you-all know what they say: when you’re in the islands, live like the islanders.
JANE: So Amy, tell our audience what you were doing in Cincinnati.
AMY: To tell the truth, Jane, I was a stripper. Oh, should I have said adult entertainer or one of those other fancy terms? Well, whatever you call it, I showed men my titties for tips.
JANE: Um, wow. I don’t think I’ve ever interviewed a stripper before. I’m not sure what to ask.
AMY: Oh, I don’t do that anymore. Walt hit a big lottery and his wife agreed to a divorce for half which wasn’t so unexpected ‘cause they hadn’t been in love for a long time. And then we met and he invited me to go on a trip with him, and the rest, as they say, is history.
JANE: So a romantic road trip led to your happy relationship?
AMY: Well, I’m not sure how romantic it was, especially at first. Walter was a perfect gentleman, damnit. He seemed to like my son JG better than me. But Aunt Morgan said be patient, he liked me fine. And it turned out she was right. She usually is.
JANE: So you called your Aunt Morgan for advice in matters of the heart?
AMY: Oh, no. She was there too. In fact, to tell the truth, Walt loves her almost as much as he loves me.
JANE (with an uneasy laugh): You mean loves her in a platonic sort of way, of course.
AMY: No, not really. Aunt Morgan is smokin’ hot, and she’s fascinating to talk to. And Walt is real smart, loves history and all that stuff.
JANE: My goodness. Your aunt must be quite a woman.
MORGAN: Thank you.
JANE: Wait, who said that?
AMY: Oh, that was Aunt Morgan.
JANE: You mean like she’s a multiple personality or something?
AMY: Naw, nothing fancy like that, although it is a bit complicated. She’s a real person except that she lives in here with me. Ask her something.
JANE: Hello, Aunt Morgan. How long have you lived there with Amy?
MORGAN: I came to live with Amy when she was six. I’d been living with her grandmother, but she was in the hospital dying when Amy came to visit. Seemed like a good choice, and she’s turned out to be my favorite special niece ever.
AMY: Why thanks, Aunt Morgan. That’s a real nice thing to say.
JANE: So I take it you’ve been doing this for a long time, Aunt Morgan. So how old are you anyway?
MORGAN: You know a woman doesn’t like to talk about her age, particularly a woman like me.
JANE: Our audience is the soul of discretion. You can tell us.
MORGAN: They probably won’t believe it anyway. But the truth is, Jane, I’m more than 1500 years old.
JANE: 1500 years? I’m not too good with math, but that was long before Columbus. Were you a Native American?
MORGAN: Of course not. I’m British. A queen in my first life. In fact, you’ve heard of me. And my half brother Arthur was a king. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.
JANE: Um, King . . . Arthur? Morgan? You mean, you’re that Morgan? Morgan le Fay?
AMY: And Aunt Morgan told me that this gown was way better than anything Guinevere ever owned. That’s why I wore it.
(at this point the network interrupted the broadcast, so we’re not sure what happens next)
Not exact–and certainly not Amy (wrong color hair, too much cleavage)–but as close as I could find. And still way better than anything Guinevere owned.