Character Interview: Eliza Gable

Welcome to a new interview with the talented, sassy, and delightfully world saving Eliza Gable, who just so happens to be a main character from Elizabeth S. Tyree’s current (2015) National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) work in progress! I, the elusive journalist writerbaby (please, no pictures, my hair is an awful mess at the moment) have managed to catch up to Eliza has she leaves Ms. Tyree’s home in search of coffee. She has agreed to a quick, short interview, in return for a few free cups of joe, naturally.

Let’s get down to business then, shall we Ms. Gable?

Sure, you were right about the coffee here by the way. This is a phenomenal cinnamon, pumpkin spice. 

I’m glad. Now then, let’s ease into this a bit. I think my readers are most interested in just getting to know you a little bit better. After all, your friend the author has been keeping you under fairy tight wraps.

Not really, I’ve been pretty busy you know. 

I’m sure you have been, but we’re all wondering about you. So my first question is, “What is the top song on your favorite music playlist right now?”

Well you know, I honestly have a bit of what I like to call musical attention deficit so I keep changing it up, all the time. Right now I’m on a jazzy classic rock kind of kick so there’s a lot of classic fusion going on. For instance, I’ve been listening to Chicago, Queen, Miles Davis, Aerosmith’s blues album…the list goes on and on. Great stuff. 

Don’t let her lie to you like that writerbaby, she’s got R. City’s “Locked Away” stuck on repeat in the car.

Please do ignore the random crazy bystander who so presumptuously sat with us. This bearded beggar wouldn’t know what I listen to. 

 No problem Eliza, I’ll just pretend as though your man friend, Brent is it? I’ll pretend as though Brent isn’t sitting beside you giggling and smirking.

I appreciate that writerbaby.

 Unless you want to further explore the ideas of the, how did you put it…bearded beggar, I think we can safely move on to our second question. What has been your scariest experience?

In this life? (hahaha) Well I would have to say it was probably when we all decided to rock climb this huge sheer cliff and then hang-glide back down the other side…which looked out over a ravine. It was windy day and I’m afraid of heights so it was not very pleasant to begin with. 


yeah, somewhere around the halfway point. I was terrified and shaking until we got to the top and I wasn’t in that harness anymore!

Really? That’s the thing you choose? Everything you’ve done and been through and climbing a steep rock is your scariest thing ever?

Hush you

(Brent throws his hands up in surrender and leans back with a smirk) Fine, I’ll just here and drink my steamer. 


  That sounds like it was quite the adventure! I believe I would have been too scared to even get started! So tell me Eliza, do you have a personal motto that helps you through situations like that? If so, would you mind sharing it with our audience?

Oh here we go.

  YES!! I have a motto or quote for just about any situation really. One for all occasions! For that particular outing, I kept remembering a piece of art I had once seen. Intended to decorate a very girly bedroom, this painting looked like it belonged in a classic girl’s room, replete with flowered wallpaper and full skirts. But the words, the words almost had be buying the over-priced thing. it said, “Remeber, she who is brave, Is Free!”


Oh yes, I love that one. But my everyday go to is basically just to Be Happy, Be Yourself, and leave them all wondering!

 I like that one too! Let’s see, what is your most treasured possession?

That’s so easy. Books! Books I’ve read, manuscripts I’ve written, bare notebooks filled with stories and advertisement ideas. After all, I’m an ad exec along with my partner, ol’ Big Mouth Brent over here. 

Careful honey. Remember, words can hurt and i might just have to go home and cry tonight instead of going with you to see that new chick flick with the shirtless super dude you love. 

Of course, I really meant that my favorite treasure is the Beauty and the Beast framed advert that he got me for my birthday last June. 


 You two must blow the socks off of competitors and clients. The way you banter would have me buying an ad for just about anything! Now that I have you blushing, let’s move on to question number six, Who are your role models?

Well there are the obvious answers: My family, friends, friend families, etc. Other than that, anyone who works had at what they love and who refuse to change themselves for others UNLESS they really want or need that change. For example, toning down rebellious qualities for work purposes is a sign of growing up and that’s great. Toning down personality quirks because a certain person doesn’t like them is, however, just dimming your light. You don’t need that. 

I also always, always look up to anyone of any age bracket that pushes through struggles to pursue their passions. 

 You said earlier that you are in advertising. Is that what you always wanted to do?

No, haha, I always just wanted to be a storyteller. I can see the ideas though, swirling around me. I hear about products and thoughts on advertising and it’s like I can just reach out a pluck an image to pitch. Since writing doesn’t pay the bills

Yet. It will someday…

Yes, thank you dear. Since writing doesn’t pay the bills, yet, this advertising has been a great way to both earn money and tell a story or two. 

Sounds like you have it pretty well figured out! There may be hope for women in their late twenties after all. Before I let you go, I do have one final question for you. I heard you two bantering about a certain topic on the way in to this cute little place earlier and I just have to know ~ what is it about pumpkins?

Well, they make me happy. Orange is my favorite color, fall is my favorite season, I like to cut stuff up sometimes, and I adore the taste. Plus, my family had a tradition of cooking down pumpkins and baking together when I was little. Good memories, good times. 

Short answer…she’s a loon. 

 Well I believe I’ll let the two of them duke it out. Thank you Eliza, and Brent, for those great answers. And Thank you, dear audience, for tuning in.

This is writerbaby13 signing off and saying, Until we meet again keep your paper filled and your pens at the ready!

     Good Day!

Reality in the Midst of Make-believe

Today I am honored to be passing the baton over to celebrate the release of M.J. Moores newest book: Cadence of Consequences. With today being the official release date, I asked M.J. to come up with a jazzy and interesting guest post.

Without further ado – let’s welcome M.J. Moores and celebrate with her on the release of Cadence of Consequences!

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Reality in the Midst of Make-believe

A Guest Post by M.J. Moores, Author of Time’s Tempest & Cadence of Consequences

Everyone has hit that low point, you know the one. It might be a life’s low or a skill’s low (like writing or not as the case may be). I had those days in high school of course, but then high school was a bit of a roller coaster ride for most people. I had those days dealing with my husband trying to work through a bad job/company, and I even had those days after giving birth. But honestly, the lowest I ever remember feeling was back in grade 6 and 7 having to deal with a new school, being shunned and then being ostracized for, well, being me.

In the first book of The Chronicles of Xannia, Time’s Tempest, I have Taya (my strong and self-assured leading lady) going through a major revelation about herself – and that was no garden path let me tell you! But just as she thinks she’s got a handle on her life again, in book two, Cadence of Consequences, I take her as low as I possibly can go – and this is a woman who’s dealt with a lot of lows in her early life. Having faced her own mortality and emerging relatively unscathed from that quest, I now put her where I was at twelve years of age – caught somewhere she has to be, not where she wants to be; trapped in a tangle of other people’s expectations and rapidly losing all sense of self…

Now, I don’t set out to write about these difficult things, honest I don’t. Book one was slotted as an amazing quest through uncharted territory and book two was exploring a hidden society and dealing with secrets kept vs. secrets revealed – cool stuff right? But these were just the external journeys that got the blood pumping and the heart racing. Once I really got to know these people, their wants, needs, desires… I found so much of the trials of my own life seeping into the work it was truly astounding. Taya was, after all, everything I ever wished I could be: taller, crazy fit, wicked smart, self-reliant, capable, self-assured – and she could see in the dark!

But she isn’t Superwoman and she’s not invincible. She’s hit the top of her climb and now the coaster is rushing into those lows… the stuff that keeps us awake at night. So you see, it really was inevitable; I had to go there. I had to touch those dark places in my own soul and crack them open for inspection.

What about you? Is there a particular low you can now touch? Have you let it inspire you?

I hope so. 😉

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  1. M.J. Moores began her career as an English teacher in Ontario, Canada. Her love of storytelling and passion for writing has stayed with her since the age of nine. M. J. relishes tales of adventure and journeys of self-realization. She enjoys writing in a variety of genres but speculative fiction remains her all time favourite. Her debut novel Time’s Tempest is currently available in print and e-book with Book 2 launching September 28th, 2015.

Character Love

I know that I am a mere character in someone’s book. I have suspected for some time now that I might be; all the signs point in that direction. No memories of my early life until, SUDDENLY, it appears…a perfect flashback. Mainly, though, I seem to cease for long periods of time. I just hang there, suspended in the middle of whatever activity was going on at the time. I once lay in the grass and looked at stars for 86 hours. How in the world do you explain that? No bathroom breaks, no conversations, no changing of the light and fading of the stars, and no movement of the earth on its axis: just me, laying in the itchy cold germ infested grass for 3 ½ days. That’s just not natural.

One day, though, it ended. I was buffed and polished and given my own version of happily ever after…or as happily ever after as the best friend gets (seriously, she got the man of her dreams, a huge wedding, and a new castle-like home, I couldn’t even get a bridesmaid to look at me, the emotionally damaged best man). So I went on, living in the pool house, working a wonderful job, and they all lived… Until it started over. Dozens of ‘me’ are jotting around being read by random people. Sometimes a few pages and then shelved and started over days later by someone else, sometimes more, sometimes much less.

I learned to survive with my own company, sometimes even being so lucky as to be suspended in time while with my friends so that we could at least converse and make faces at each other. But then, she arrived. The woman who would change my life and allow me to soar…the woman who bought my book.

She is beautiful, with long dark hair that softly tickles my story as she reads and glintingly golden eyes that shine with her emotions each and every time she pores over the tale. The first time she read the book, my woman (who I would later learn is named Alicia) immediately called her own best friend to share her find. “You have to read this Sar,” she gushed, “I think I’m in love with Carl, the best friend. I wish I could find a funny man like that!” I smiled, sitting in my end position of pool side bliss, and thought “I love you too my dark haired beauty.”

The second time she read the book she called her book club president to beg for a discussion on my story, the next month there were 8 women and 3 men who clutched their own shiny new copies of the book, 11 people sighing over the story and touting the characters; Alicia the most vocal.

The last time she read my book, she had just broken up with a horrendously boring and sarcastic man. Alicia poured over the book, slowly reading any scene that I was in and crying in all the levels of sound possible. I wanted to reach out and wipe her tears, I was desperate to tuck her hair behind her ears, I stretched and pushed….I would be this close and then a page turn would happen. So I wished, and hoped, and tried, and prayed. Late that night, as she was finally snoring peacefully, I realized that the book had been left open beside her. I wasn’t in that part of the story, having gone away for the chapter, but I just KNEW that if I could there; well, I could get to her.

I was right. It took most of the night and all of my concentration, but I finally felt a pop in the thin veil that keeps our worlds apart. It was like moving through Jello, but I made it just in time for Alicia to punch me out.

When I came to, Alicia had me hog tied and covered by a police man…but she was more concerned that half of her book seemed to have been blanked out. That was all this morning, and I am now sitting in a tiny cell, in a tiny jail, waiting for my love. We’ll see how long it takes her to believe me. All because I fell in love with the woman who read my story, instead of my best friend’s.