I’ll be attending Romancing the Smokies March 17 & 18, 2017, in Knoxville, TN. http://www.romancingthesmokies.com .
Award winning Author TG Franklin lives in East Tennessee, and she often mines ideas from the rich and diverse cultural and scientific communities from Oak Ridge to the Smoky Mountains.
Her writing reflects the influence of the many sci-fi and paranormal television shows and movies of the 70′s, such as The Man From Atlantis, The Bionic Man, the miniseries V, Logan’s Run, the original Westworld, and the original Rollerball.
Her favorite memories are her & her Dad watching those sci-fi shows, then dissecting the characters, the plots, and the technologies over a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.
Connect with TG Franklin
Interview with TG!
- What are 3 things we can always find in your grocery basket?
– Raw honey (it’s supposed to help with allergies – jury’s still out), white cheddar (who doesn’t like cheese?), and eggs (fried, over medium).
- Are any of the characters in your book based on real people you know?
– In Heavenfall, David, Mike, and John are based on relatives. They all ride, and although they’re not members of any biker gangs, they are total badasses.
- What is something that happened during or right after your publishing journey that nobody knows about?
– Well, most people know that my Dad passed away from cancer not long after my first works were published. He was extremely optimistic through it, and even after they stopped his chemo treatments, he fought it with every breath. But one day, we were sitting at the kitchen table, just the two of us, drinking a cup of coffee, trying hard not to discuss the cancer that was quickly killing him, when he looked at me with a huge grin and said, “And what if I die? Won’t that be an adventure?”
- 4. What is your morning routine like?
– Quick. I am not a morning person at all. I brush my teeth, shower, run a comb through my hair, get dressed, walk the dog, throw breakfast together, and I’m out the door. It usually takes me about 35 minutes, depending on how long Brutus takes to do his business.
- Are you a morning, afternoon, night writer?
– Okay, here’s one of my quirks. I’ve already told you I’m not a morning person, but on the weekends, I’m up at 6 and at Panera when they open at 7 to write. There’s just something about those quiet, weekend mornings that get my writing juices flowing. During the week, though, I’m more of a late afternoon/early evening writer.
- What does your family think about your writing?
– I think the polite way to phrase it is that they keep me grounded. Now, don’t get me wrong, they’re all proud of me – sometimes to the point of embarrassment. My first couple of erotic romance novellas were published before my Dad (the deacon) passed away, and he actually told everyone in church about my books.
- As a child what did you want to be growing up?
– A lawyer. I’ve got an argumentative personality, which at the tender age of 10, I thought would be perfect for a lawyer. Turns out, not so much. BTW, I’m not a lawyer, but I do work in the legal field.
- 8. Where are you from?
– Born, bred, and raised Knoxville, Tennessee, where the tea is sweet, but the cornbread isn’t.
- 9. What is your favorite thing about where you live now?
– The view. I live in East Tennessee, 20 miles from the Great Smoky Mountains. From my driveway, I can see House Mountain in one direction & the Smokies in the other.
- 10 .What was something you loved doing during the summer growing up?
– I lived at the neighborhood pool growing up. I learned to swim at the age of 2 in the ocean, and love being in water – swimming, diving, playing, or just relaxing.
- What is something you love doing during the winter now?
– Counting down the days ‘til Summer! I am not a winter person at all.
- Are experiences and events in your book based on your own life?
– Don’t I wish! Unfortunately, my characters lead far more interesting lives than I do. But the experiences that matter – love, loss, fear, even questioning if they’re doing the right thing, are experiences we all feel, or have felt. And fiction is a wonderful medium for sharing them.
- Give us three “Good to Know” facts about you. Be creative. Tell us about your first job, the inspiration for your writing, any fun details that would enliven your page.
– I love to paint, but I’m not any good at it. And that’s okay, because you don’t have to do something well to enjoy it. Making art is messy, fun, relaxing, and most of all, important. I live for football season and enjoy building my fantasy teams. Hit me up in a few months if you need someone for your fantasy team. (For fun only. I don’t do betting leagues.) I keep quirky stuff on my desk. I have three miniature figures: Mulder, Jane Austen, and a dragon warrior. I also have a miniature Tardis, a crocheted weeping angel, and a Magic 8 Ball.
- 14. Can we have an excerpt from one of your favorite books you’ve written?
– This is from Heavenfall.
The stim bar wasn’t anything like she expected. Rows of cubicles spanned the length of the building, had to be at least sixty or seventy stations, and the only light came from the tiny comp screens. People sat tethered to the control panels in various states of consciousness. Their bodies twitched, bounced, fought, or writhed with the artificial emotions being pumped into their brains. Some cried, some sang, and a handful, maybe six or seven, were openly having sex. Only a one or two of the partners were prostitutes. Looked like the rest of them were wives, or husbands. Their touches were slower, more deliberate, and more intimate than the automatic responses from the professionals. And none of the partners acknowledged Mary and David’s presence in the room. Probably thought they were there for the same reasons and looking for an empty comp to hook into.
“This place gives me the jitters. Nobody has their eyes open. And why aren’t there any pictures on the screens? It’s like they’re all hypnotized or something.”
“Seeing ruins the fantasy, princess. The stim programs are designed to tap into the visual cortex. Pumps the images, hell everything, smells, sounds, touches, directly into their brains.”
“No wonder they get addicted.” A shiver crawled across her skin, even though the lack of good circulation and the press of so many bodies stifled the air and made the space hot. “Let’s find a port, get the virus uploaded, and get out.”
David glanced over the room. “I don’t see any open comps close. The screens are time indicators. A full stimulation session starts with blue, counts down to red. Look for an open comp, or one with an orange or red screen. You take the right, and I’ll take the left. Whistle if you find one.”
They separated, moved through the rows, and met at the back of the room.
“I got nothing,” Mary said.
“What do we do now? Wait? Break some controller’s connection?”
“It would be messy to break a connection. They’ve got to come down slow, or it messes them up. The program gets caught in the hardware and keeps looping or something. I don’t understand it, but I’ve seen the effects. At first you think it can’t be that bad, you know, to have some emotion rattling around in the mind.” He wiggled his fingers next to his temple. “I mean, most people do, right? But controllers, their brains don’t function like most people’s. Brain starts rejecting the emotion, ’cause it’s not supposed to be there. All those images and stuff start bleeding out and mixing with what’s physically happening around them. Drives them batshit crazy. Can’t escape the hallucinations, and then they go comatose. They can’t speak, or move, but in their eyes? You can see they’re terrified. Hadrian’s favorite form of discipline.”
“Okay, so we wait. I saw a couple of yellow screens. Maybe they’re close to being orange.”
“Can’t wait too long, though.” He leaned against the wall and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. Not a disposable, but an old Zippo he’d inherited from his grandfather. “The guy at the door? I got the feeling he might just come down here with his hope in his hands to watch you work while he jacks his pathetic dick off in a corner.” The click of the lighter’s top opening and closing accentuated each word.
“But I’m not doing—oh.”
“Yeah, and when he sees you not doing anything, I’ll have to kick his ass.” The loud click of his lighter closing echoed through the room. “On principle for thinking about you that way, then I’d have to kick it again so he wouldn’t run back upstairs and rat us out, and I don’t know if my arms can take it. Plus, the longer we have to wait, the better the chances we get caught.”
“But if we break a connection, we’re no better than Hadrian.”
He took a long draw off the cigarette, let it out slow, and closed his eyes. “Never claimed to be, Princess.”