Interview with fantasy author Lou Kemp

Today’s special guest is fantasy author Lou Kemp and we’re chatting about his new magical realism novel, The Violins Played before Junstan.

During his virtual book tour, Lou will be giving away a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice) gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit his other tour stops and enter there, too!

Bio:
Lou’s early work was horror and suspense. Later, her work morphed into a combination of magical realism, mystery, and adventure painted with horrific elements as needed.

Lou is one of those writers who doesn’t plan ahead; no outlines, no clue, and she sometimes writes herself into a corner. Atmospheric music in the background helps, “Black” by Pearl Jam especially.

Milestones:
2009 The anthology story “Sherlock’s Opera” appear in Seattle Noir, edited by Curt Colbert, Akashic Books. Available through Amazon or Barnes and Noble online. Booklist publishes a favorable review of my contribution to the anthology.

2010 Her story, “In Memory of the Sibylline,” is accepted into the best-selling MWA anthology Crimes by Moonlight, edited by Charlaine Harris. The immortal magician Celwyn makes his first appearance in print.

2018 The story, “The Violins Played before Junstan” is published in the MWA anthology Odd Partners, edited by Anne Perry. The Celwyn series begins.

Present day. My new publisher, 4 Horsemen has reissued book 1 of the Celwyn series, The Violins Played before Junstan. The remaining books in the series: Music Shall Untune the Sky, The Raven and the Pig, The Pirate Danced and the Automat Died, will debut beginning in 2023. The companion book, Farm Hall, will be reissued in 2023 where readers will see more of Pelaez, another immortal magician and Celwyn’s brother. Another companion book, Sea of the Vanities is due out in 2023.

Welcome, Lou. Please tell us about your current release.
Book 1 introduces Celwyn, Bartholomew, and Professor Xiau Kang.

Celwyn has avoided caring about anyone for hundreds of years, but he’s about to learn the advantage, and cost, of true friendship.

While on a mission to avenge the death of his lover, the immortal peyote-eating magician Celwyn is hired to deliver an automat, Professor Kang, to a priest. But Celwyn quickly learns that everything the priest told him was a lie. Now his ship, the Zelda, is stuck in a horrific storm and Celwyn knows he must reconsider his allegiance if he is to steer his vessel in the right direction and continue his quest.

Choosing Professor Kang, the pair journey west, hunting for revenge. To deflect the attention of the city’s police, they allow an American heiress to join their party as she escapes matrimony in search of adventure. When the trio encounters an intelligent but superstitious widower––their misfit group is complete. Through battles against malevolent forces and dangerous rescues, the companions start to feel like family to Celwyn, but he has lost someone he loves before and is in no hurry to watch it happen again.

What inspired you to write this book? 
In 2010 I invented Celwyn and put him into a story for the Mystery Writers of America anthology. Then in 2018, I wrote about him again. That story begged to become a series, so it did. Five books in the series are written, and in 2023 books 2, and 3 will be published by 4 Horsemen. There are also companion books coming out in 2023 where Celwyn is either involved, or will become so.

 

Excerpt from The Violins Played before Junstan:
from Chapter 1
San Francisco, 1865

Late in the evening, thick ribbons of fog moved like a living animal, breathing, then thinning to vapor before revealing the shadows between the wooden barrels that lined the docks. Beyond the Opera House’s silhouette, oily glimmers of the bay cut through the darkness, only to be obscured by the fog again.

As Celwyn neared the docks, he heard virulent cursing above the commotion from a carriage as it charged down the cobblestones toward him. When the coach drew level, the driver raised a whip above his horse. On its descent to the horse’s back, the tip suspended mid-air and snake-like, the whip shimmied out of the coachman’s hand.

The man steered the hackney to a stop. As he slithered out of the high cab, the whip followed him, wrapping around his ankles, lifting him feetfirst into the air. His cursing echoed to screams as he disappeared into the night sky. A moment later, a splash could be heard, and a satisfied smile crossed Celwyn’s lips; he couldn’t stand to see anyone mistreating an animal. The horse trotted down the street, rather jauntily, back toward the stable yard as the magician stepped around a snoring drunk and into Salty’s tattered and dingy atmosphere. Celwyn could have sworn it was the same drunk he stepped over last night.

The place was half full, the gas lights dim, and as quiet as it would get. Just inside the door sat a priest who boldly regarded Celwyn, as if he knew him, yet Celwyn would have remembered the little elfin ears, long black hair, and vaguely Asian eyes. The eyes glittered an invitation.

Oh, really? The magician thought it odd to discover a priest in a saloon—in his experience they were more likely to drink their whiskey by candlelight in the church vestry, elbow-to-elbow with the spiritual mice. Curious, he placed his top hat on the table and settled into the chair opposite the priest.

Beads of sweat decorated the bald head of the bartender as he rushed forward with a shot of whiskey on a tray. He deposited it in front of Celwyn and whirled to run back behind the bar.

The priest aimed a thumb at the publican. “Well-trained. Just like a seal at a waterfront show.”

Celwyn paused and then picked up his glass. He recognized that voice. A fortuitous coincidence? A few blocks away, St. Marks provided excellent places to eavesdrop, such as a false wall behind the altar. This morning the Monsignor of St. Marks and this same priest had discussed some unusual incidents occurring during Mass. It was not a coincidence that the same man should be sitting here.

“I do not need to know how you caused the bellowing of bulls during services.” The priest made a distasteful face, like the air around them suddenly smelled of rancid cabbage. “I only need to know that it was you who did the deed. The flute music you added probably had meaning for you, but it was in poor taste.”

The magician tensed and sat back. He has no idea of what I can do if provoked. Celwyn eyed him as he finished his drink and speculated how much effort it would take to lure the priest outside and snap his neck. The man obviously couldn’t appreciate the purpose of music. He also reeked of cloves.

“Your ensuing act was more violent.” The bugger smiled. “The Monsignor has suggested I take the matter to the police.”

Celwyn stood, throwing some coins on the table as he turned to go. Perhaps it was time to return to the Continent. He could almost taste the oranges in Seville. He could take one of the new excursions to the Pyramids, and a smile went with that as he imagined how entertaining it would be if one of the depictions became animated. His enjoyment was interrupted as the priest got to his feet, and Celwyn noticed he did so in a somewhat stiff manner. Perhaps his joints needed oiling. But there was nothing slow about him as he trailed the magician out the door and into the fog’s moist embrace.

Rehearsed peals of well-paid feminine laughter emanated from the brothels lining the street. The priest did his best to keep up as Celwyn strode along. They detoured around a dapper gentleman who’d just been tossed out of one of the betting parlors and rolled across the boards. He tried to stand, but a pair of roughs poured out of the parlor doors and set about beating him.

“Shouldn’t you do something about that?” Celwyn asked, hooking a thumb at the attackers as they started to kick their victim. “It’s a priestly duty, I believe.”

“No.” The priest started walking again. “I am not a priest.”

 

What exciting story are you working on next?
Book 6 of the series is about 1/3 complete in a rough draft, so rough it could be used as sand paper. In it, the adventurers meet up with Swango, a notorious friend of Celwyn’s who can bend time while also performing magic.

When did you first consider yourself a writer? 
When I was about eight years old. I loved it then as much as now.

Do you write full-time?
Yes. I’m increasing my volunteer work (this time for the young people of the Ukraine), so it may be ¾, not full time. My writing workday begins after I wake up with the morning tv shows, then it stops about 5 p.m. My usual interruptions are my daughter and 4 cats. Sometimes all at the same time.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk? 
It is not too unusual, but I’m a pantster. I write by the seat of my pants, soaring above it and hoping not to fall. I do not plan out the story, but sometimes take notes. It all occurs as I go along. Yes, I write myself into corners frequently, but I also appreciate the unpredictability in the result.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? 
A writer, and that was my daydream throughout all my adult life. It is finally coming true.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
If you are a writer, you need two things; a cat who understands when to move away from the screen and a great fountain pen for the first draft.

Finding the cat sounds the most challenging!

Links:
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