Interview with Best-Selling Author of 80 + Books — Elizabeth Rose


If you haven’t met this author here is a quick bio:

Elizabeth Rose

Elizabeth Rose is the bestselling author of 80 books and counting. She writes medieval, historical, contemporary, paranormal, and western romance. She is an amazon all-star, and a multi-time award finalist. Her books appear as ebooks, print, and some audiobooks as well.

Her favorite characters in her works include dark, dangerous and tortured heroes, and feisty, independent heroines who know how to wield a sword. She loves writing 14th century medievals, and is known for her medieval series.

Elizabeth started out over twenty years ago as a traditionally published author. But life takes it twists and turns and after losing her day job she decided to try her hand at Indie publishing.

She started self-publishing, creating her own covers and her own booktrailers on a dare from her two sons and has accomplished great feats in the last few years. She loves anything paranormal and is inspired by spending time in nature. Elizabeth has a secret garden that serves as her outdoor office where she writes in the summer. This same secret garden inspired her latest series, Secrets of the Heart, and is the setting of these books.

Elizabeth’s website is: http://elizabethrosenovels.com where you will find book trailers, sneak peeks at upcoming covers, excerpts from her books, as well as original recipes of food that her characters eat in her stories.

If you’d like to sign up for her newsletter, join her private readers’ group, or follow her on social media, just copy and paste the following links.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/89482.Elizabeth_Rose
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElizabethRoseNovels/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/elizabethroseno/?eq=elizabeth%20rose&etslf=6492
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElizRoseNovels
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/ERoseNewsletter
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/elizabeth-rose
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Rose/e/B001K7X946/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1523824132&sr=8-1
Readers’ Group
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1069264379873015/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elizabethroseauthor/
Series by Elizabeth Rose:
Secrets of the Heart
Seasons of Fortitude
Legendary Bastards of the Crown
Second in Command
Holiday Knights
Tangled Tales
Barons of the Cinque Ports
Legacy of the Blade
Daughters of the Dagger
MadMan MacKeefe
Elemental Series
Greek Myth Fantasy
Tarnished Saints
Cowboys of the Old West
Once Upon a Rhyme
Sweet Nothings
A Look Behind the Series

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Me: How are character and dialogue intertwined?

Elizabeth:  The dialogue tells a lot about a character. How they talk, the words they use, etc. A lot of times you don’t need to use tags because just by their words you can tell who is talking. For example, if I have a Scot and an Englishman talking, there is no doubt.

Me: I pulled some dialogue from Book 1, Secrets of the Heart Series. Not only does this exchange between Maira, Fia, and Willow show something of the characters’s fear, but  also shows who is the stronger-willed of the three.

“We shouldna be here,” warned Fia. “We need to go.”

“Quit fretting, Fia,” scoffed her cousin, Maira. “I don’t believe we are in any danger.”

“Hello, girls,” called out a voice from over by the shed.

“Fia’s right. We had better go,” blurted Willow, jumping off the swing and high-tailing it for her horse.

“Nay, I want to see who it is.” Maira got to her feet and started in the opposite direction.

Me: What, as a writer, is the criteria you use so each character’s dialogue is right for him/her?

Elizabeth: It really just depends. A noble will speak quite different than a peasant. A woman will speak differently than a man. I usually hear the voices in my head when I write and let the characters say what they will.

Me: How does dialogue affect the pacing of a story? Please define for our readers what pacing is.

Elizabeth: Dialogue picks up the pace and makes the story go faster. Big blocks of narrative have very little white space on a page. It slows the eye down while reading. If there is too much of it together on a page, it can bore the reader.

Dialogue usually has a lot of white space on the page and therefore the eye moves faster. When someone is speaking, you often have shorter sentences than in a paragraph of descriptive narrative.

Think how people really talk. A lot of times it is in fragmented sentences. I love writing dialogue and can go a long time with no narrative at all. I have to force myself to slow down the story at times to add the narrative and description into the story. (Maybe I should be a screenwriter?)

Me: Do you use metaphors and similes in your writing, such as describing a character’s voice?

Elizabeth: Yes, I am sure all authors do this. It helps the reader visualize what something looks, feels, smells, or sounds like.

Me: How real should dialogue be? Does dialogue in story mirror our dialogue in life?

Elizabeth: Good question. I would like it to mirror dialogue in our life. As I said earlier, we tend to talk in fragmented sentences and one or two-word answers. Of course, when writing a medieval, I can’t always get away with that so I need to do a little of both.

Me: How do you get across the tone used in dialogue since tone many times makes all the difference in the meaning?

For me, it comes across in those clipped one-word sentences. Sometimes just the word, “Really” said by a character can mean so much. It could mean disbelief. It could also mean amazement, or possibly a word to convince someone of something. Another thing it could mean is “You’ve got to be kidding.” It just depends on the conversation, what is said and who is saying it. See what I mean?

Me: Yes, I can see that. Since the author has given the reader a feel for the actual character of the speaker, with the situation where the dialogue takes place and the emotion involved in the speakers, the tone should be easily understood.

Me: I have been told that dialogue can also express a hidden subtext. Do you ever use this tool, and can you explain what is meant by subtext?

Elizabeth: By subtext, we are talking about the unspoken thoughts and motives of the characters. What they are not saying, even if they are saying something else. This isn’t always easy to do in writing, therefore body actions added in narrative to the dialogue help to get the idea across to the readers.

Me: How do you let the reader know your characters sound different?

Elizabeth: Through choice of words, I suppose. I love audiobooks and have 40 of my books in audio now. My narrators are wonderful with the different voices so that really helps.

Me: Do you think using dialogue as an opening sentence of a story impactful?  Why?

Elizabeth: Yes, I do because it immediately draws the reader into the story, making them want to know more.

Authors only have about ten seconds to capture a reader’s attention. If not, the reader might put down the book and pick up another one.

Here is dialogue as an opening sentence to my book Lady Renegade.

Keep that bairned bitch of yers quiet, Storm.” Chieftain Ian MacKeefe’s hoarse whisper came through gritted teeth.

So you see, I could be talking about a pregnant woman, but it’s really a pregnant dog. Still, it gains interest and the reader has to read on to find out the answer.

Me: How difficult is it to write dialogue from ages past?

Elizabeth: As an author, I take liberty to write the dialogue the way I think it best fits the story. If I were to write medieval dialogue in Old English, it would be hard to read and frustrating for the readers who want to just relax and get lost in a story.

Sometimes my dialogue might seem a little modern, but it is the way I choose to write it. I am still careful to say “mayhap” instead of “maybe” and not to use words that weren’t around until hundreds of years later. But for the most part, I want my story to flow and the readers not to get caught up in dialogue they don’t understand. It is the choice of the author how to write it.

Me: I’m sure if you were to write in Old English the reader would get bogged down.  Where dialogue would quicken the pace, that type of dialogue would stop the reader in her tracks. As long as there is the occasional ‘reminder’ there is a language difference, that is good enough for the reader.  For example, if the characters are speaking French, it is obvious the whole dialogue can’t be in French, but a ‘merci’ here, and a ‘oui’ there will do the trick!

Me: Do your characters swear?

Elizabeth: Hell yeah! Ooops, I mean yes. I tend to have my heroes swear unless I am writing a sweet romance of course. BUT, I will NEVER use the F word. If you see that in my book, then it isn’t my book because I will never write it.

For the medieval characters the swearing is a little different. “God’s eyes,” “Bid the devil,” or “By the Rood,” are some you will hear because that is how they swore back then. Of course, with a few words we use now thrown in as well.

Me: What do you think about speech tags?  Is using tags such as said, asked, replied enough?  What about tags such as muttered, whimpered, whispered, stuttered?  What is their place in describing dialogue?

Elizabeth: I am always looking for more creative tags. Sometimes tags are not needed, but I don’t like to go too long in a conversation without them because it could get confusing fast. I try not to use the same tag too many times too close together. This is really noticeable in an audiobook, so I have to be careful.

Me: How much time do you spend rewriting dialogue, particularly taking part of the story from narrative into dialogue

Elizabeth: I am kind of the queen of dialogue, so I find myself having to add more narrative rather than dialogue. To be honest, I hear the characters in my head and write it down. Sometimes they tend to get chatty.

Excerpt from Highland Secrets – Book 1, Secrets of the Heart Series

Highland Secrets (Secrets of the Heart #1)

Fia quickly entered the garden with Maira and Willow right behind her. After dismounting, the girls stood in awe with their mouths wide open, not able to believe their find. What had looked like nothing but some shrubs against a hill to hide behind, turned out to be a beautiful hidden world of flowers, benches, trellises, and archways covered with climbing, flowering vines.

Fia took a deep breath and held it. Her senses tingled from the sweet smell of roses in colors of white, pink and red that were so large they were the size of her hand. Birds chirped happily overhead, flying from tree to tree and landing in arched trellises. Square, raised beds of plants filled the secret space. Taking a closer look, Fia realized they were herbs and vegetables. The patches of dirt were separated by fences made from branches woven together.

A carpet of bluebells spread out behind the raised beds and stopped at the foot of an enchanting cottage constructed of wattle and daub. Next to the cabin was a small shed with an open door that housed gardening tools. Attached to the house was a stable big enough for one horse. In it stood an old, black mare. Fia thought the surroundings looked like something out of a fairy tale.

“I feel like I’m in a dream world,” said Willow, sniffing a rose and gently caressing the silky petals with her fingertips.

“I have never seen anything like this,” replied Maira. She tied the reins of her horse to a tree and started down the winding stone pathway leading through the mystical garden.

“There is a cottage and a horse. Someone lives here,” Fia told them in a voice no louder than a whisper. “How could this be here?”

“We never came this far into the woods before.” Maira made her way over to a wooden swing big enough for two people and took a seat. The swing was suspended between two arches that had grapevines covering a trellis over her head. She pushed off slightly with her feet and giggled. Willow rushed over and plopped down on the seat right next to her.

“We shouldna be here,” warned Fia. “We need to go.”

“Quit fretting, Fia,” scoffed her cousin, Maira. “I don’t believe we are in any danger.”

“Hello, girls,” called out a voice from over by the shed.

“Fia’s right. We had better go,” blurted Willow, jumping off the swing and high-tailing it for her horse.

“Nay, I want to see who it is.” Maira got to her feet and started in the opposite direction.

“Maira!” Fia rushed after her cousin and tried to stop her. “We dinna belong here.”

“On the contrary, girls, I have been waiting for you to arrive for years now.” An old woman stepped out of the shadows, smiling at the girls as she made her way over to them. She was tall and had graying hair pulled back behind her head. She wore a long, brown gown with a green kirtle. In her hands, she held a pair of work gloves covered in dirt.

Fia was getting ready to run when she noticed the heart-shaped brooch on the woman’s bodice. “It’s you,” she said with a gasp, now knowing it was the woman she’d seen in the dying king’s chamber. Her hand shot to the heart-shaped brooch pinned on her own chest.

“Do you know her?” asked Willow curiously, walking back to join her cousins.

“I saw her five years ago in the king’s chamber on the day he died.”

“Who are you?” Maira bravely stepped in front of her cousins protectively.

“Come and sit down, girls.” The woman smiled and pointed to a small knoll of grass near the shed where the sun shone down warmly. Then she looked over the girls’ shoulders as if something took her interest. “You might as well come join us too, Morag,” she called out.

“Morag?” Fia spun around to see her younger sister sitting atop a horse, peering into the secret garden through the open gate. Fia groaned and shook her head. “Morag, I told ye to stay back at the keep.”

“What is this place?” asked Morag, sliding off her horse and entering the garden.

“It’s the queen’s secret garden,” the woman told them. “I am Imanie, the queen’s keeper of secrets as well as her master gardener.”

“Queen? What queen?” asked Maira in confusion.

“Why, Queen Philippa, of course,” Imanie answered with a kind smile.

“But the queen is dead,” stated Willow. “She has been dead since I was a toddler.”

Fia noticed the look of wisdom in Imanie’s two-toned green and yellow eyes as the woman answered. “She might be gone from this world, but her secrets live on.” She settled herself in the grass and nodded for them to sit as well.

“Why should we believe you?” asked Maira, plunking down on the ground without even looking where she was sitting.

“Because it’s the truth.” Fia took off her crown and placed it on the ground in front of her as she sat crossed-legged next to Maira. “I believe this has somethin’ to do with the crowns and the brooches and what the queen had planned for us, doesna it?”

“You are right,” said Imanie.

“Did she have somethin’ planned for me, too?” Morag squeezed in between Fia and Willow.

“Morag, ye are no’ the eldest daughter,” Fia reminded her. “King Edward told us on his deathbed that the queen left the crowns and brooches only for our faithers’ eldest girls.”

“That’s right,” said Imanie. “Philippa wanted the king’s bastard triplets’ eldest daughters to join her secret order, but you can stay and watch, Morag.”

“A secret order?” asked Willow. “How so?”

Imanie’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Did you girls know that when your fathers were born, the king ordered them killed because they were triplets?”

“We do,” said Fia. “Everyone kens that.”

“Mayhap so.” Imanie nodded in agreement. “But not everyone knows it was Philippa who saved their lives that day. She did it against the king’s orders and in secret. He didn’t know about it until many years later.”

 

Excerpt from Lady of the Mist – Book 4, Lega35606294cy of the Blade Series:

 

Devonshire, England 1330

 

The fishing boat set course during the night with the squalling of a newborn babe causing every man on deck to want to throw the damned thing overboard.

“Cap’n, why do we have a babe aboard?” asked Sebastian, the first mate. He was a boy of six and ten summers. Sebastian covered his ears and shook his head trying to block out the screeching noise.

Captain Powell ap Llyr handed the wailing infant over to Sebastian who gathered it into his arms reluctantly.

“My wife, Gwyneth, saw ta stealin’ more than just jewels this time,” the captain answered. He peered through the darkness to see his wife and the boy, William, rowing away quickly, trying to escape the castles’ guards. He’d collected the boy baby she’d called Madoc, and left her with the twin baby girl she’d called Echo. Then he’d abandoned her and William – forever. “The stupid wench!” he growled. Of all the treacherous and deceitful things they’d accomplished through the years, this was by far the most ill conceived.

He never should have let Gwyneth convince him to take her thieving in the first place. Women were worthless. Everyone knew that. And any man not willing to do what he’d instructed was worthless as well, and would be killed. Aye, he thought, if he hadn’t had morals, he would have just killed his wife and be done with it all by now.

For over a year now he’d been thieving not only on land, but also on water. He used the disguise of his fishing boat to plunder merchant ships on their way to port. ’Twas a way of life. And soon, he planned on taking over the waters. But none of these men had what it took to pirate. Not really. What he needed was a son to meld into a strong, savvy, heartless, swindling crimp. With those traits, the boy would turn out to be the most successful pirate to ever ride the waves.

Aye. He needed someone just like himself. Although his wife had never been able to bear him a child, now he had what he wanted without her. His addled wife’s ill deed worked right into his plan. And when the soldiers caught her and William, ’twould slow them down enough that he’d make his escape to safety. Gwyneth and William would most likely be sentenced to death, but so be it.

Good riddance, he thought. He’d had enough of Gwyneth and the milksop boy. He never should have taken in the orphan, but his wife convinced him to do it. But now, he was at risk of being hanged, drawn, and quartered for what they had done. Stealing noble babies was not what he’d instructed them to do. They were supposed to steal jewels from Blake Castle only. But after tonight, he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. Because he was finished with the annoying barnacle on his neck and the trouble she’d caused. He had plans in his life, and the wench was only going to bring his dreams and aspirations to an end.

“Arrrgh,” he grumbled. “It matters not,” he spoke more to himself than to his first mate. “All I care about is that I have a son ta raise now. I’ll teach the lad my craft. Someday, he will take my place at the helm and pillage the seas even better than me.”

“What is this?” Sebastian held up the baby’s hand where a small gold baby ring with the eagle crest of Blake Castle was engraved upon it. It was held onto the baby’s wrist by a thin piece of yarn. The newborn cried louder.

The captain knew they might be able to escape any ship the soldiers sent in pursuit, but getting lost in the mist was not an option with the sound of those lungs. It would only lead their pursuers right to them.

“Silence that damned thing, or I’ll take care of it myself,” he growled.

His first mate tried to bounce and rock the baby, but with no results. “Perhaps, ’tis hungry or soiled its swaddlin’,” he shouted over the noise.

“Let me at it.” The captain pulled out his dagger and reached toward the baby. Sebastian’s eyes grew wide and he instinctively pulled back. Then the captain used his dagger to cut the yarn on the baby’s arm. He held up the ring in the moonlight, surveying it.

“What do ye think it is?” the boy asked, trying to calm the child.

“’Tis my marker ta a wealthy future,” the captain answered.

“Oh, aye,” said his first mate. “That should be worth plenty once ye sell it.”

“Nay, this I cannot sell. ’Tis my proof the boy is noble. After I train him and he brings me wealth by pillagin’, I will reveal his secret and he will bring me wealth sittin’ on a dais as well. Or mayhap, I’ll just ransom him for gold. Either way, I will win in the end.”

“I think the babe needs its swaddlin’ changed,” commented Sebastian.

“Then do it!” he barked the order.

“Aye, Cap’n.” Sebastian looked around, then laid the baby on top of a storage barrel. For lack of a swaddling, he removed his chaperon headgear, intending to use it in its place. He opened the baby’s soiled swaddling and gasped. “Ye ain’t goin’ ta like this, Cap’n. I think yer wife is the one ta win after all.”

“What do ye mean?” He walked over to Sebastian to see what he meant. One look to the baby’s nether regions, and anger pumped through his veins. “That damned wench! I shoulda just killed her after all. And tell me, what in the devil’s name am I supposed ta do with a wretched baby girl?”

About eileendandashi

I am a lover of books, both reading and writing. 2018 marks the beginning of my own journey from writer to published author. This blog will showcase various authors' thoughts on the elements of novel crafting, and my attempts to find my voice in writing. While journaling this journey, I hope to encourage others to follow their dreams. Book reviews continue as I have the last four years, only making time for my new pursuits.
This entry was posted in Elizabeth Rose, Interviewing authors, Medieval Romance, Novel Development, On Becoming a Writer and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Interview with Best-Selling Author of 80 + Books — Elizabeth Rose

  1. Thanks for having me as your guest Eileen!

    Like

  2. You are very welcome. I’ve enjoyed this study of dialogue and hope it has helped others who want to strengthen their own writing.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s