In conversation with Didi Oviatt, indie suspense author

Didi Oviatt is an indie author I met through the blogging world. She’s got a wicked writing style and recently released a crime/thriller book called ‘Aggravated Momentum’ which I wrote a review for. As part of my efforts to #SupportIndie I wanted to find out more about her writing process and her experience with self-publishing on Amazon kindle.

Hi Didi, thanks for joining me today. What are 5 things you would like our readers to know about you?

I’m so excited to be here! If I have to settle for five, then I’ll stick with the big five S’s… simple, silly, sure, satisfying, and strange.

  • Something simple: Every year I drink a bottle of cheap wine, and I bury myself in a romance novel on Valentines Day.
  • Something silly: I can touch my tongue to my nose.
  • Something sure:  I’m one hundred percent sure that every book I ever write will be suspenseful.
  • Something satisfying: Goals, Lol…  It may sound funny, but there is nothing more satisfying to me then nailing my weekly goals.
  • Something strange: I completely believe in ghosts. Good ones, bad ones, creepy ones, and even protective ones. I think we’re all just a little bit haunted.

What are you reading at the moment?

I usually read more than one book at a time. I strive to support Indi authors like myself, so I keep one of them cooking at all times. I also believe it’s important to keep your head in a wholesome influential place as a writer by reading Best Sellers in the genre of your current project.  This week I’m rotating two books. Living in the shallows, by an Indi-Author Tani Hanes and also Mercy, by Best-Selling Author Jodi Picoult.

How do you choose what book you’re going to read next? Is it the cover, the blurb, recommendations etc..?

All of the above plus some. When it comes to highly recommended books or Best Sellers I compare each of the mentioned tactics along with either a genre rotation (I’m kind of a seasonal bird) or by books that may counter point whatever project I’m working on myself.  When it comes to Indi books, I take a lot of author requests and debuts, but after I’ve read a blurb of course.

 What’s your experience been of self-publishing so far? Are you enjoying it?

I absolutely adore self-publishing! I love being in control and calling all the shots!  So far I’ve tried something different with each of my books. I’m a “dive in head first and learn from my own mistakes” kind of gal. I am human, and have made a few mistakes along the way, but self-publishing is definitely NOT one of them. I wouldn’t take back my decision to self-publish for the world and doubt I’ll ever even try Traditional.

What’s one piece of advice you would give to a new writer thinking of self-publishing?

Don’t fall for the “self-publishers” that offer you the world and ask a ridiculous amount of money to “help” you publish! You’d be amazed at how many shysters there actually are in the book publishing world. There are a lot of places that are affordable, and they actually let you choose your own pricing, cover image, and you still maintain all of the rights… KDP and Bookbaby in my experience have been great, but do your own research because there are most definitely more. Don’t limit yourself in options, and don’t let your excitement blind you.  A rule of thumb I like to live by, is that if there is an enormous contract involved then it isn’t actually self-publishing.

I’ve just finished reading your fantastic new book, ‘Aggravated Momentum’. Wow. What a rollercoaster. What was the inspiration behind it?

With Aggravated Momentum I wanted to challenge myself. Suspense is where I shine, so I chose to make it psychological in order to test my abilities. Part of me wanted to master writing a variety of first person characters, and part of me wanted to ensure that I didn’t allow myself to get stuck in a repetitive rut. In my opinion, there are too many Authors who seem to repeat themselves. Their books are one dimensional — like if you’ve read one then you’ve read them all… I didn’t want that to be a problem for me, so my main focus with Aggravated Momentum was to make it diverse and unique.

Was there a lot of research involved?

Hardly any… To be completely honest, I hate research and I suck at it.  What little bit was required, I kind of left hanging for my editor to “come across” and have to fix lol… Don’t worry though, she’s a friend so it’s fine 😉

 Okay, last question: Are you working on anything new?

Yes, yes, yes, and yes!!!  I’m so dang excited about my latest and greatest! Search For Maylee is a mystery novel that I intend to release in the fall of this year, so hold your breath!!! Here is a short description:

Since Maylee was abducted from her high school the very month of graduation, her Aunt Autumn has never lost hope in finding her.  It’s been three years. Autumn has finally reached inside herself and found the courage to track down an old lead. She moves across the country to find him. Will Autumn be able to pry Maylee’s case back open? More importantly, what will Autumn uncover in the process of searching for Maylee?  It’s a cold dark world we live in, and she is about to find out just how cruel it can be. Strength and determination are on Autumn’s side and she will do whatever it takes to either bring Maylee home, or to deliver the justice she deserves.

 

What have your experiences been with self-publishing? Do you have a favourite indie author? Let me know in the comments and stay tuned for more updates, interviews and book reviews! If you’re an author and interested in being interviewed on my blog, please get in contact. 

This Really Happened: Excerpt

This really happened
POSTED ON FEBRUARY 24, 2014 / BY ERIN T / LEAVE A COMMENT / FACEBOOK

When I was nine and my sister Naomi was eleven, our parents took us to the Natural History museum in London for the first time. Like any child I was fascinated by the dinosaur displays, the buttons and interactive games.

But the thing I remember most clearly about that day are the whale bones.

The skeleton of the blue whale took up the entire room, hanging ominously from the ceiling like a phantom observing the mortals passing below it. The bones were a dull bronze, as if they’d been white once but had been left out past their expiry date.

I remember running the length of the ribs, trying to count the steps. It hurt my head to imagine that such a ghastly, claw-like structure also existed within my own tiny chest, holding my organs captive like the bars of a prison cell. I couldn’t imagine sharing anything in common with the relic that hung above us, silent, a mere shell of the impressive mammal it had once been.

Naomi did not share my fascination.

“It’s not even real,” she said, barely glancing at it, more interested in the new pink flip-phone she’d gotten last month.

“What? It so is.” I glared at her, offended that she didn’t seem to care.
“It’s obviously fake. Come on, can’t you tell?” she rolled her eyes, in that patronising way big sisters do when they’re trying to assert themselves as the older, more mature one.

I looked helplessly up at my father, hoping for reassurance. His familiar smile, thin lips and a high forehead, wise grey eyes set in a face lined with age. “Is she right, daddy?” I asked. “Is it really fake?”

He put his hand on my shoulder and said: “We all have our own truths, Erin. Sometimes they’re the same, sometimes they’re not.”

I peered up at the skeleton again. In the cavities of the skull, the spaces between each rib, I saw glimpses of the sea, flashes of something that had once existed, now saturated with the past.

That day, I decided that the bones were real, no matter what Naomi or anyone else said. They were real to me, anyway, and that was enough.

This is an excerpt from my New Adult novel ‘This Really Happened’ which is now available on the Amazon Kindle store! Read the blurb on my books page and share this post on social media! 

This Really Happened: Excerpt

 

This really happened
POSTED ON FEBRUARY 24, 2014 / BY ERIN T / LEAVE A COMMENT / FACEBOOK

Have you ever wished you could go back and change something? Thought about all the things you would’ve done differently? Everyone has regrets, even the people who claim they don’t. The world is full of shit that could have been avoided with the power of hindsight. And it’s natural to wonder about the what-ifs, the could-have-beens, even though it won’t change anything. They’re just so much easier to believe in than reality.

I’m going to tell you a story. It’s a story about one night when everything changed, a night I go back to all the time, seeing my mistakes and wishing I could go back and change my own mind. Maybe if I could, I wouldn’t be writing this right now. Maybe if I could, the chain of events that followed wouldn’t have happened.

The story starts with Rita Ora: they were playing her in the club again that night, for the third week in a row. It wasn’t a bad song really, but it wasn’t my thing. The others didn’t seem too keen either; Allen was grimacing, Gabe had disappeared into the mass swarming the bar area long ago.

Through a haze of people, I spied Dan wrapped around a tall blonde girl, seemingly fused at the lips. Definitely his type. Ava was tottering around in her high heels, trying to simultaneously dance and stay upright. I was a happy medium; tipsy enough to feel that familiar warm buzz, sober enough to get myself home if I needed to. This was going to be a good night, I decided. Maybe one of the best. With everything that had happened, it’d been a while since all six of us had done something together and I’d really missed it.

Suddenly Charlotte appeared next to me, her whole face a bright, sweaty pink that complimented her fiery hair. “Selfie!” she demanded, throwing an arm around my shoulders and holding up a camera in front of us. We pressed our faces together and grinned stupidly up into the lens as it went click.

“You’ve got a bit of flush going on you know,” I laughed. “You’re completely red.”

She poked her cheeks in disbelief. “Really? Where?”

“Um, everywhere.”

She looked devastated. “But I don’t wanna look like a tomato.”

“Maybe you’ve just had a bit too much.”

She stumbled, nearly pulling me down with her. “Urgh…can we go outside for a bit? I need some air.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

I half-carried, half-dragged her out of the club, past the main square until we found a more secluded set of steps to sit on. It was 2am in the morning and the campus was alive; all the lights were still on and students wandered around in groups, helping drunk friends back to their dorms. Friday night was always the most popular club night.

Charlotte immediately curled up and gripped her head in her hands, trailing ginger strands of hair through her fingers. She was shivering. I distantly realised that it must be freezing, even though the alcohol blanket had numbed me to it.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. “Do you think you might throw up?”

She shook her head but didn’t look up. “I-I’m just so cold,” she spoke through chattering teeth. Then she began to cry. It started out as a quiet sort of sniffling, but quickly turned into loud, messy sobbing. I was, understandably, alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, but she didn’t answer and only cried harder. Eventually, after ten minutes, she calmed down and sat up, looking at me through red-rimmed, watery eyes.

“Thank you,” she slurred.

I was beyond confused. “What for?”

“I’m not sure. Just thank you. For existing, I guess.”

“Um, you’re welcome?”

“I really like your existence,” she continued. “I think it’s great, honestly.”

“Charlotte, you’re really drunk right now.”

“I know, but I mean it. I want you to know that I appreciate you…being here. Does that make sense?”

I sighed and patted her shoulder. “Yeah. I like your existence, too.”

She smiled at me – a floaty, oblivious sort of smile that people only conjure up when they’re completely hammered. Then she leaned into my shoulder and I tentatively gave her a one-armed hug, feeling strangely protective of her. If I could redo that moment now, I wouldn’t have pulled away. I would have stayed there on those steps with her, holding her close. I would’ve made sure that nothing bad could happen to her. But I didn’t.

“Do you want to go home?” I asked, after a few minutes of comfortable silence. She shook her head. “Okay, water?” A small nod. “I’ll have to go buy some. Just wait here for me.”

I dragged myself up and crossed the road to get to the kebab van on the other side. I bought water for Charlotte and a burger for myself. Just as I was counting out the change I needed, I happened to glance in the direction of the road. I froze.

I felt like I was seeing it all in slow motion, an old black and white film on repeat.

Her stepping into the road. The car, sleek and black, careening around the corner. No. No, please god no –

The forever too-slow braking, the sound of wheels skidding. The car’s headlights illuminating her dazed expression for a moment like a spotlight as it made contact. Her lying on the ground. Too still, too still.

Then I heard screaming, distant and muffled, as if I was underwater. It took me a long time to realise that I was the one screaming.

This is an excerpt from my new New Adult novel ‘This Really Happened’ which will be released on Amazon March 1st! Read the blurb on my books page and follow for more sneak previews and updates coming soon. If you’re a book blogger and interested in getting an ARC review copy, get in contact at annmariemcqueen@aol.com