Interview with Susan Berliner
Why
don’t you begin by sharing a little about yourself.
I was born in London, England, came to America as a little
girl, grew up in the Bronx, New York, and got my BA at Queens College. I've
been a teacher, newspaper reporter, editor, promotion manager, and non-fiction
writer. I have two children and three grandchildren. I live in Yorktown
Heights, NY, a northern suburb of New York City, with my husband, Larry, a
retired English teacher who is writing a humorous memoir. I enjoy reading, Scrabble, swimming, and
sports. Unfortunately, however, I root for the Mets and Jets, teams that rarely
win.
You've
published several books to date. Can you share a bit about them?
DUST is a supernatural thriller about an evil swirl
of colorful dust that sneakily attacks random victims in a quiet suburban condo
community. The heroine, Karen McKay, a librarian, battles the evil dust with
the help of her ex-husband, Jerry, and an intuitive dog.
Peachwood Lake is a thriller about a mysterious jumping fish that
terrorizes a small Connecticut town while Kady Gonzalez, a 13-year-old girl,
struggles with her own terrifying problems of growing up.
The Disappearance is a time travel thriller about a young woman, Jillian
Keating, whose boyfriend, Ryan Cornell, disappears and frames her for his
murder. The book culminates in an elaborate sting operation as Jillian and her
friends travel through time to lure Ryan into their clever trap.
My
new novel, Corsonia, is a mind-control themed thriller about two teenage
girls from Long Island, New York—Loren Cofton and Tracie Martinez—who drive
cross-country in celebration of their high school graduation. But when they
enter Corsonia, a little town in the remote hills of northeastern Nevada, they
uncover a horrifying trail of evil, turning their fun vacation into a
life-threatening adventure.
What do
you enjoy most about writing supernatural thrillers?
I love sitting at the computer, not knowing what's going to
happen next in my story, and letting my characters direct the action. When I
write, it's as if my characters are actors who are performing my novel on a
stage or movie screen. They speak their lines and I simply transcribe their
words. Very often, I don't know what they're going to say or do. I thought this
occurrence was unique, but many novelists describe similar experiences. It's
the excitement of not knowing that makes fiction writing so entertaining for
me.
You
started your writing career as a journalist and writer of non-fiction. Why did
you decide to try your hand at fiction?
I never intended to write fiction. However, when I was
working as a promotion manager, I read a small online article about a strange
weather phenomenon called a "dust devil," a miniature tornado strong
enough to toss dust and dirt into the air. In this news clip, a dust devil
lifted the roof off an auto body shop, collapsing most of the building, and
killing the owner. Since the story was so weird—and it happened in Maine—I was
sure Stephen King would write a book about some kind of supernatural dust. I
forgot about the article until I found it a few years later and realized
Stephen King had never written a novel about weird dust. Then I got an
idea, which became the basis for my first novel, DUST.
What do
you find most challenging about writing fiction, as opposed to non-fiction?
With non-fiction, you collect facts, outline
your information, and put it all together. It's a very organized and
straightforward job. For me, writing a novel is nothing like that. I don't outline
chapters and, as I mentioned, although I know my characters and the basic
plotline, I don't know what's going to happen in the story. I sit at the
computer and let my characters tell me: It's a fascinating and entertaining
experience. But that's only for writing the first draft. The challenge comes
afterwards when I have to edit the book (my characters don't know everything)
and do the necessary research. That's work!
Has anything surprised you in the course of writing your
novels? Do you have any anecdotal tidbits or funny stories you’d like to share?
signing at a small nearby café, and, just before I arrived, the power went out. About two hours later, the electricity was still off when the café owner escorted me to the restroom in the back. Out of habit, I flicked the light switch, and, at that exact moment, the electricity returned—and the light went on. The owner told me he got goose bumps and he even asked me if I had paranormal abilities. (I thought maybe I could be a new super heroine—Electric Woman?—until I found out that heavy winds had knocked down a nearby power line.)
Then, a couple of years ago, I had another strange, although not quite supernatural, experience. At a book signing in Ossining, we had a tornado warning and all vendors had to go inside the building, a facility for seniors. That's when I sold a copy of DUST—a novel about a mini-tornado—to a 100-year-old lady named Dorothy, the heroine's name in The Wizard of Oz, another tornado story.
What
advice would you give beginning writers?
My advice is to treat writing as a job—something you have to
do. Get into a writing routine and force yourself to work for a certain amount
of time every day. That's what I do. Even if I don't feel like working, I close
the door to my den, concentrate, and write. And it doesn't have to be for a
long period of time. Set aside an hour, half an hour, or even fifteen minutes.
There's always time to write. You just have to make up your mind to do it!
Who (or
what) has inspired you as an author?
The ideas for my first two novels, DUST
and Peachwood Lake came from newspaper articles. I wrote The
Disappearance, a time travel thriller, because I've always loved reading
time travel stories. My
new novel, Corsonia, deals with another of my favorite themes: mind
control. Ideas for books pop into my head all the
time. I have to push them into the recesses of my brain until I'm ready to
begin working on a new story or novel.
What’s next for you?
I'm currently writing a collection of short stories. Like my
novels, the stories all contain a bit of the supernatural, although some are
horror, others are fairytales, and the one I'm writing now is a ghost story.
I've completed six so far and I hope to write at least fifteen.
I'm also working on a two-part doomsday novel, The
Touchers. I wrote the first draft of Part One and I've written most of Part
Two. But it got tedious—maybe because the story is told in the first-person by
a teenage girl. Nevertheless, I hope to get back to this project soon.
You can check out more on Susan and her books on these sites:
Website:
Facebook:
- https://www.facebook.com/groups/96392594143/
- https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Disappearance-by-Susan-Berliner/467514786615660
- https://www.facebook.com/pages/Peachwood-Lake-by-Susan-Berliner/239389866123117
- https://www.facebook.com/pages/DUST-by-Susan-Berliner-A-Supernatural-Thriller/221513797862521
- https://www.facebook.com/pages/Corsonia-by-Susan-Berliner/718989051531037?ref=bookmarks
Pinterest:
And now for a sneak peek at her latest book:
Corsonia
When Loren Cofton and Tracie Martinez visit the remote hills of northeastern Nevada on a cross-country drive celebrating their high school graduation, the fun vacation quickly morphs into a perilous adventure.
After photographing an abandoned gold mine, Loren swipes a bottle of water from an eerily robotic man stocking bottles in the only occupied store of an otherwise deserted shopping center. The water's effect on Loren leads the pair to investigate the strange little town of Corsonia—despite threats from the local sheriff. And when Loren and Tracie befriend a child named Boy 11, who tells them about his curious life and upcoming fate, the girls become even more determined to figure out what is going on.
As the relentless teens uncover a horrifying trail of evil, they put their own lives in dire jeopardy. Will the girls be able to rescue the people of Corsonia—or will Loren and Tracie become the town's next victims?
Excerpt
Loren
and Tracie reached the yard with the flopping clothes and stood quietly,
watching the shirts and pants swaying in rhythm with the warm breeze.
"I
don't know," Tracie said. "It still seems kinda quiet here. If there
was a bunch of people around, we'd hear something, wouldn't we?"
Loren
lowered herself to the ground, leaned against a bush, and gazed at the back of
the two-story yellow shingled house. "Do you see any lights on
inside?"
"No,"
Tracie said as she sat beside her friend. "But it's daytime and the sun is
shining so that doesn't mean anything. This whole trip was your idea so what do
you want to do next—peek in the window again?"
"Maybe."
Loren slapped the pebbly grass with her left hand. "Damn! I thought for
sure we'd just find some people who live here and talk to them outside. I don't
want to tiptoe around and have that sheriff come back."
"Yeah.
Well, I told you this wouldn't be as easy as you said. Maybe no one's living in
this place either. Maybe they don't use any of these houses anymore."
"Then
how do you explain the laundry?" Loren asked.
"Maybe
they just use this house to wash their clothes."
"For
a whole bunch of people? That's not enough clo..."
"Hello."
Loren
stopped talking in mid-sentence at the unexpected greeting, which came from
behind the bush.
The
two girls turned and faced a boy, who looked like he was eleven- or
twelve-years-old. His blond hair was cropped in a short crew cut and he wore a
black oversized tee shirt that said "Star Trek: The Next Generation"
and a pair of men's brown shorts so baggy that they would have fallen down if
he hadn't been wearing a belt.
The
boy stared at Loren and Tracie, but didn't speak.
"Hi,"
Tracie finally said, smiling. "I'm Tracie and this is my friend, Loren.
What's your name?"
The
boy looked puzzled and kept staring at the girls.
"It's
okay," Tracie continued, speaking slowly and quietly. "You can talk
to us. We won't bite you." She smiled again.
"Why
would you bite me?" the boy asked, pausing between each of the five words.
"People do not bite," he added in his strange staccato-like speech
pattern.
"I
was just trying to make a joke," Tracie explained.
"What
is a 'joke'?" the boy asked.
Tracie
looked at Loren, who shrugged. "Well, a joke is something that's
funny—something that makes you laugh."
"Oh,
a laugh, like from a smile. I can do that." The boy made a wide grin.
"That's
right," Tracie said. "Very good. So we told you our names. What's
your name?"
"I
am called Boy 11."
"Yes,"
Loren said. "But what's your real name?"
The
boy looked at her unhappily. "I do not understand. I am Boy 11."
Tracie
grasped Loren's hand, holding it tightly. "That's fine, Boy 11. Do you
live here?" She pointed to the house behind the laundry line.
"That
is the school," he said.
"Oh,"
Tracie said. "You go to school with teachers and other children?"
Boy
11 nodded. "Teacher."
"It
sounds like fun," Tracie said, smiling again.
"We
do not laugh in school," the boy said, frowning at her.
Tracie
waited a moment before continuing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you,
but we'd like to meet some of your family."
Boy
11 continued to frown.
"Do
you have a family?" Tracie asked quietly.
Boy
11 sat across from the two girls and lowered his head. "I found books in a
big box on floor one," he said in his choppy speech. "I took three
books to read and I learned about 'family.' There was mother, father, sister,
brother."
"Oh,"
Tracie said. "You don't live like the people in the book?"
The
boy shook his head. "I live with Boy 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 and 12."
"What
about Boy 1, 2 and 3?" Tracie asked.
The
boy shrugged.
"Maybe
they're little," Loren suggested.
"Yeah,"
Tracie agreed. "But Boy 9 must be bigger. What about him?"
"I
do not know," Boy 11 said in his slow clipped speech, looking sadly at Tracie.
"Boy 9 is gone."
"You
don't know where he went?" Loren asked.
"No."
The boy looked as if he was going to cry.
Tracie
quickly changed the subject. "So where do you and the other boys
sleep?" she asked.
"In
a house."
"Yes.
But where is the house?"
"I
do not know. A man takes us there after school."
"Why
aren't you in school today, Boy 11?"
The
boy tilted his head downward again. "I like to walk outside so I
leave."
"And
the teacher just lets you go?" Loren asked.
Boy
11 shrugged.
They
remained quiet until Tracie continued the questioning. "Doesn't the
teacher notice you aren't there?"
"I
do not know," the boy said, his head still lowered.
"Wish
I could've done that in school," Loren muttered.
Tracie
elbowed her friend softly in the ribs. "When do you go back inside?"
she asked.
"When
the sun moves down," he said, raising his head and glancing at the sky.
"Does
the teacher say anything when you walk back into the room?"
Boy
11 shook his head.
"Okay,
then," Tracie said. "Who else is in the school with you?"
"Boy
4, Boy 5, Boy 6, Boy..."
"All
the boys you live with that you mentioned before," Loren said,
interrupting him.
"Yes."
"What
about girls?" Tracie asked. "Are they in your school too?"
"No."
"Where
do the girls go to school?"
"I
do not know," he said, shrugging.
"Wow,"
Loren murmured and Tracie poked her in the ribs again.
"Is
there anyone else in your school?" Tracie asked.
"Woman
28."
"And
what does she do?" Tracie continued.
"She
makes the food, cleans the rooms, and washes the clothes." Boy 11 nodded
toward the swaying laundry.
"Sounds
like Cinderella," Loren muttered.
Boy
11 stood up abruptly. "I must go into the school now," he said,
looking at the girls. "Do you have a story book?"
Tracie
shook her head. "I'm sorry, Boy 11. We don't have any books with us. But
we can come back tomorrow afternoon and bring you a book. What would you like
to read about?"
"A
family—a family with a mother and father and children."
"Sure."
Tracie smiled. "We'll find a good book for you, Oh, and please don't tell
the teacher you talked to us."
Looking
confused, Boy 11 stared at Tracie. "I do not talk to Teacher."
"That's
fine then," she said, smiling again. "We'll see you tomorrow, Boy
11."
"Goodbye,"
he said. Then he turned and ran to the house.
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