Hello everyone, Today I have a very special character interview with Becca Martin from A Journey of Faith: A Stepping Stones Mystery. Most of these questions can be found at:
15 Questions Authors Should Ask Characters
Please note, some of the answers to the questions below have led to more questions. Be sure to click on the article linked above and ask your characters the same questions. Now, on to the interview.
Ann: What would mentally destroy you?
Becca: Witnessing someone have an accident during a rock-climbing competition, or having an accident while I was climbing myself. It would kill me is Shelly were forced to fall off the stepping stones. I don’t know what happen, but I have the distinct impression that whatever it was, happened on the stones.
Ann: How do you feel about your mother and father?
Becca, you don’t make this easy, do you? Well, let’s see. Dad and I had a much closer relationship after my PTSD diagnosis. But Mama? Not so much. I mean every time I’d have a panic attack or a meltdown, she’d start yelling or she’d run and hide. I believe my anxiety and Post Traumatic Stress disorder caused her more stress than she let on to Mandy and me. She didn’t want to believe that something was dreadfully wrong. She always thought that my problems were all in my head. I think it would take an act of God for her to see the truth. I’m beginning to think that’s the reason for my journey, though there’s more to it than that. That’s why I had to go get technical training and certification. My job as a technical support specialist for Wildebeest and Asher was a fluke, if you ask me.
Ann: Can you elaborate on your reason for leaving your family home?
Becca: Mama’s stress and disbelief made my anxiety worse. She made my life miserable, so I hat do get out of there, before I wound up in a mental hospital.
Ann: Did your father add to your mental stress?
Becca: No! As a matter of fact, He told me that he witnessed the who incident. He never told me what happened. I guess he wanted to protect me, so he thought it was better that I didn’t know. I now wish he had. I’d be able to take this journey without so much fear. But if I did that, you wouldn’t have a story to tell, now would you?
Ann: What about your sister? How did she react to the incident?
Becca: I have no idea. She refused to talk about it, so nobody knows what she thought.
Ann: Now, let’s switch gears. When did you feel completely loved and accepted?
Becca: I felt loved and excepted when I started this adventure. It started with Shelly, who prayed for me before I left. I don’t think she understood everything I was going through, but she knew that something was wrong and the only way I could find healing was to follow my heart.
The second time I felt truly loved, was when I saw my grandmother in her angelic light for the first time, at the foot of the towering Rock wall. I’d seen pictures of Granny Mary throughout my life, and my folks would tell us stories about her, but I was only two when she accidentally slipped off the top of the stepping stones. Seeing her in her true form scared me at first, but then my heart sang as she led me up the rock wall. I can’t tell you how wonderful that felt!
The third time Was when Hannah found me sobbing after a panic attack in the middle of the dining room floor, at the cottage at the summit of my first mountain. She slipped into the cottage without a sound. The door closing scared me so bad I thought I’d pass out. She told me that she knew my grandparents and my parents before I was born. Her words of comfort gave me the assurance I needed to keep going. She prayed over me as I drifted off to sleep.
Ann: What about the shadow outside your window?
Becca: I can’t say much about that, but I can tell you she didn’t believe my story. I got the impression she thought I was dreaming.
Ann: In your story, what did you lie about?
Becca: I hate to admit this, but I lied about simply taking time off from work. I admit I did have some leave built up, but I had a feeling that my search for the truth would take more time than I had coming to me. The more I think about it, the more I’m glad Wildebeest fired me. To be honest, I hated working for him, but it was a way for me to pay the bills. Most people would have thrown me out if they’d know I’d been fired, but Shelly has covered for me many times. She’s like a sister to me.
When I start out on this unknown adventure, I told myself that following the pull of whatever was trapped inside me would be easy. Boy was I ever wrong! Making that first climb was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I fought my way over that first brick wall (or rock wall, should I say), and I have no doubt God will help me surpass others in my path.
Another lie I keep telling myself is that whatever happened when I was twelve, was an accident. I’m beginning to think that my belief isn’t necessarily true, the further I go on this crazy hike. You’ll see what I mean as the story unfolds.
Ann: Do you need friends?
Becca: Who doesn’t? I mean, God puts people in my path to help me along my journey, but Shelly is my ally. I call her every chance I get, to tell her what clues I’ve found. I also consider Hannah as a friend. I meet many friends throughout my story. I’d rather have friends than enemies, yet my enemies are a necessary evil, I suppose.
Ann: What physical thing do you fear most?
Becca: We’ve touched on this already, but I’ll give it to you in a nutshell. Any surface that I have to climb, especially if I don’t know what’s on the other side, and unseen figures that lurk in the shadows or around windows of my resting places during my travels.
Ann: Are you able to work for someone else?
Becca: During my travels, no. I have to focus on my search for the truth behind my nightmares and anxiety. Otherwise, I have the skills, so if the opportunity presents itself, I don’t see why not.
Ann: What is your defining strength?
Becca: I’d have to say it’s my determination to keep going, even though I want to turn tail and run.
Ann: Do you have a positive or negative body image?
“Becca: What kind of question is that? I’m a country girl, no matter whether I live in the city or not. I walk with my head held high in my jeans and sweat shirt. If it’s summer, I wear shorts and a t-shirt. Now that I don’t work for Wildebeest, I can ditch the stiff pin-striped outfits and flaunt my overalls if I want.
Ann: Who, or what, would you die for?
Becca: Isn’t that obvious? I’d fight to the death to find healing from this PTSD. I mean if my best friend or one of my family members’ lives were in jeopardy, I’d lay down my life to save him or her.
Ann: Do you have a plan for tomorrow? Next week? Next year?
Becca: No, I take this journey one day at a time. If I don’t, I could get sidetracked by the devil and his malicious ways.
Ann: Do you think you’re resilient enough to change?
Becca: I would hope so. The aim of this mission is to find the truth and ultimate healing. My fears are still intact, yet I’m more observant and I take the clues to God in prayer. I may have questions, but I’ve found at least one of my answers and a whole bunch of questions layered beneath the original ones.
Ann: One final question. What would you think If you could see me now?
Becca: I have to ask you another question, before I can answer this one. How do your writing friends react to my story, now that you let me tell it in my own way?
Ann: Those who’ve read the first couple of chapters, like it better, that I have written them if first person, instead of writing the story as if I’m watching your actions.
Becca: Good! I thought other readers would see it my way. Now you don’t have to do so much head hopping from me to my friend, to my enemy, to the policeman I’ve fallen for. If you let me tell my story, you as the author, can put yourself in my shoes, and transpose that same intimacy to the reader. Thanks for letting me tell my own story.
Ann: Thanks for coming back to visit with me and my fans in the blogosphere.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this eye-opening interview with Becca Martin. Let me remind you to ask these questions of your own characters, to make new discoveries about your works in progress. Until next time, happy writing.
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