Showing posts with label author. Show all posts
Showing posts with label author. Show all posts

Friday, May 11, 2012

Overcoming a Broken Leg

Today, I walked to work for the first time since I broke my leg on January 30th. I was a little nervous at first, but once I passed the place where I fell, it was a great relief.

I walk to work because it is only about 1 3/4 miles from where I live and the exercise is great because I sit at a desk all day. Last summer, I rode my bike, which is another story. Anyway, it had just started snowing that fateful day when I started to walk, but I did not worry about it. I had on boots, a warm jacket, my stuff in a knapsack and was using ski poles. Even though the snow started coming down harder, I kept on because I did not want to turn back and get my car.

Besides there being snow and ice, I got out my cell phone and called a friend. So there I was, walking along, holding my cell phone up to my ear and carrying ski poles with the other hand, when I slipped and fell forward, dropping my cell phone on the sidewalk, where it broke open and the battery fell out. There was a flare of pain up my right leg, but I thought that I had sprained my ankle. I sat on the sidewalk and tried to wipe off my phone and put it back together, but the snow was falling too fast and thick, so it was impossible to get it dry and working.

I got on my hands and knees, but the pain was really awful when I put pressure on my right ankle. I tried to get up on my feet but the pain made me feel woozy and everything started to look gray. I remember looking at my watch, and it was a few minutes after 8 am. I tried waving to people, but everyone drove by. I was wearing a bright yellow sweater and a red coat, so I didn't blend in with the snow, and the area was by a school, so everyone had to drive 15 mph. No one stopped.

After a while, I looked at my watch and saw that ten minutes had passed by. I was cold and in a lot of pain. One of my coworkers usually took that route to get to work by 8:30, so I hoped that he would see me and come to my aid. I sat there, watching the cars go by and felt like I was in a daze.

Then, a school bus stopped on the other side of the street and the driver called out the window and asked if I needed help. What a wonderful person! I replied that I did need help, and he apologised that he could not leave the bus because he had little children on it. He did put on his blinking lights, forcing cars to stop so that he could alert drivers that I needed help.

A bunch of people stopped and helped and a very nice couple that I did not know gave me a ride to the hospital, where the doctor told me that I had snapped off the bottom of my fibula. I was issued crutches and had a cast put on the next day. Since I had broken my right leg, I could not drive and had to depend on family, friends, and co-workers for rides.

After 7 weeks in a cast, 5 weeks in a brace, I now am able to work on getting my leg restored to normal. At first, I could only walk a few blocks before my ankle would really start hurting. Today, I walked to work and my ankle only bothered me a little.

I am thinking of having one of my characters break their leg, and have them lay somewhere, unable to move....

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Chapter 2 - Exploring Fahdamin-Ra


I shut my eyes and then opened them again, only to find my brother and me still standing in the lush, dense jungle instead of our bright and familiar kitchen. We clutched each other, barely breathing. The stone hanging around my brother’s neck returned to its normal state of looking ordinary, as if it were innocent of the changes it had thrust upon us.
            I let my breath out in a whoosh and then inhaled cautiously.
            We stood in dim light, in the exact center of a large circle, which was formed by closely fitting smooth, dark stones. No grass grew in the narrow grooves between them, and no cracks marred their surfaces. But something about the circle gave the impression that it was ancient. Everything was touched with a soft, rosy light coming from a gentle sun over my left shoulder, but whether it was dawn or sunset, I could not tell.
          Majestic, opulent trees, dense with foliage in vivid shades of green, made a thick emerald wall around two thirds of the circle. Vines and undergrowth lapped the edges of the circle, but none grew upon it. Blossoms adorned some of the branches, scenting the humid air with tantalizing perfumes. Ahead of us lay a thick mat of fresh green grass, which was parted in the middle, exposing a dirt road that led to some irregular mountains in the distance.
          My brother’s exclamation broke the heavy stillness. "Hey, what happened? Where do you think this place is?" He grabbed the stone and examined it, but it did not reveal its secrets.
          "This place has to be Fahdamin-Ra, just like the verse says."
          "No, I mean where do you think this place is? Is this earth or another planet?"
           "What I want to know is how to get back home." I refused to let the tightness in my throat reveal how close I was to tears.
          Joel rubbed his head and held the pendant up to the light. "Let’s recite the same verse, but substitute the word "home" for Fahdamin-Ra."
             Holding up the crumpled slip of paper with the chant on it, I clutched his arm as we recited the same verse, ending with the word ‘home’.
             Nothing happened. Pressing my lips together, I shoved the paper into the pocket of my shorts. "There has to be a way to get back. Maybe if we just wish to go home.” We paused, wishing intently to go home, but we stayed where we were.
            "Let’s make up something," Joel suggested. He then proceeded to chant different verses, each one becoming more outrageous than the last. He gave up trying and stood in uncharacteristic stillness. My mind went back to how happy we were, a few moments earlier, before we discovered the secret of our family’s ancient artifact. Now, I wondered if we would ever see our home or parents again. A sob pushed its way up, seeking an escape. But I shoved it back, letting anger taking its place.
            Joel started to wander away. I shouted, "Don't move!" much too loudly for the quiet surroundings. We heard startled birds fly up into the air, somewhere beyond us in the thick jungle.
          “Aren't we going to explore?"
          "I think we should stay here until we figure out how to get home."
          "No way. I want to check this place out. Sis-tine, stop worrying. We need to look around and see what’s here." Joel walked a few more feet away from me. "Let’s go see if we can find some people, maybe someone to help us. We’ll explore and figure out something.”
          Unexpectedly, there was a movement in the bushes and a sleek leopard came into view. I gasped in fear, but Joel’s face became alert with excitement and interest. The leopard stared at us for a moment, sniffing. It was a beautiful animal with sinewy muscle covered by a luxurious, vibrant coat. It was worth admiring, but not from ten feet away. The large cat growled and then slipped into the bushes to our right, as if it were changing from solid to shadow.
          Joel was elated. “Wow! Did you see that? Let’s find out where it went. I bet there are lots of exotic animals here.” He was already stalking toward the place where the wild feline had vanished.
          I grabbed the back of his shirt before he dove in the bushes to become the leopard’s breakfast. “No way! We stay together and if we are going to look for anything, we’ll search for some people. Let's not get eaten just after we’ve arrived. Let’s go down that road.” I pointed to the dirt road that led to the mountains.
          My brother was ready for a one-person mutiny. Yanking his shirt out of my hand, he said, “Sis-tine, they only attack humans if they feel threatened.”
          “I think following a leopard into the underbrush would be threatening. Let’s go.” Again, I indicated the path. Joel hesitated a second before he joined me.
           My brother never stayed upset for long. “I told you that it was a leopard carved on the box,” he said in a superior tone, swaggering along beside me.
          I smiled and kept walking. It must have been dawn when we arrived at this place, because the sunlight became steadily stronger. The jungle remained on our right as we went along, although the density diminished. On our left, the green grass gave way to scattered trees and bushes. Because the road was so straight, I could just make out a river in the distance. A dark bridge spanned it. The mountains beyond stuck up out of the ground like oversized lumps of dark brown sugar, and stretched across the land, running parallel to the river.
          I tried to gauge how long before we’d reach the ridge. I wondered if it looked close because the air was clean in this place and because it stood out in sharp relief against the vivid blue sky. I took many deep breaths, enjoying the smell of the trees and the grass. Joel and I didn’t speak as we took it all in, using each of our senses to experience everything that surrounded us. Although it was warm and the sun very bright, I did not feel hot, though I needed my visor to shade my eyes, and said so. Joel wished for his favorite lime green fishing hat.
          “Actually, this is not the outfit I would have picked to travel in." I indicated my pink shorts, and pink and orange striped tank top. "I need something more dignified.”
          "Be glad we're both wearing sneakers," Joel said, unconcerned that he was wearing a bright orange tee shirt with a surfboard-riding iguana pictured on it. He wore khaki shorts, the kind with lots of pockets. He was right about our footwear. Without our sneakers, it would have been uncomfortable to walk anywhere but on the smooth road.
          We came upon fields carpeted with vegetables, the rows remarkably straight, and no weeds in sight. Beyond them, I saw a movement, so I stopped. On the left, past a curve in the river, the gardens gave way to long, golden grass, where a herd of horned animals grazed. Joel halted and followed my gaze. "A type of antelope, I think," he said, answering my unasked question. The animals milled around, ignoring us because we were much too far away to bother them. I loved watching the elegant animals, colored in brown and cream, with twisty curlicues of horns.
          “They are so graceful and pretty that they remind me of deer.”
         "They belong to the goat family," Joel said, shattering my idyllic thought.
          "Well, so do you, but we took you in anyway." I gave him a playful shove, which he returned. When I went to shove him back, he darted away laughing. I chased after him, though I knew he could run faster and I could not catch him unless he let me. We sprinted up the road, until he halted abruptly. Startled, I stopped too, the sight ahead making me cold with fear.
          Marching toward us was a group of men. They might have been half a mile away, but they were easy to spot because the land was flat and they wore colorful clothing. I had no doubt; it was to us that they walked.
          "Should we wave or something?" Joel asked.
          "Maybe we should run," I said, feeling panicky. Our intention was to meet people, but I had imagined a quiet village with women and children, not a squad of men out in the open.
          "Sis-tine, where would we run to?" It was too far to the jungle, which was the only place we could hide.
          I took a deep breath. "Okay, we will stay here, but look calm and relaxed. I wonder how we can figure out a way to communicate with them. Do you think we can pantomime finding the stone and it bringing us here?"
          "Oh sure, Celestine. They will stand there while we do charades." Joel sneered, using sarcasm to mask his apprehension. We froze and watched the men come closer.
           It was a vivid group. Three men preceded the others, holding curved, shiny swords out in front of them. They wore identical black, red, and gold striped tunics, with triangular red hats on their heads. Four more men dressed exactly like the first three, followed. The men in the quad each grasped a pole, holding up a purple awning over a man in the center. As they approached, we could observe that the central man was dressed more elaborately, in a longer robe with pointed sleeves that extended beyond his hands. His silken garment had more colorful stripes than the others. He wore a golden hat shaped like a graduation cap, except that the flat surface had three points instead of four. It was decorated with colorful stones and large feathers. All the men wore sashes draped from their right shoulder; in addition, the guards wore one around their waists to hold their scabbards.
           I had never seen men with so much gold jewelry. They all wore earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and anklets. The man in the middle had a heavy necklace with an immense gold eagle pendant, which was studded with jewels. The sunlight flashed on the gold as they moved.
           We felt awkward as they came nearer, their bare feet thudding on the hard packed road. When they were a few yards away, the guards stopped, but the young man in the middle walked up to us. He was tall and thin, and he had skin that was a beautiful color - a deep brown that almost appeared black. He had a short nose, a large mouth, and exotic deep-set eyes.
          I did not know what to do, but I knew I had to say something.  I gave a little bow and said hello, which seemed ridiculous. I could tell by the way Joel rolled his eyes, that he thought so too. For a moment, the man stared at our clothes, and then he started talking. Whatever he said in his language, he began in a cautious tone, then became exasperated when we did not understand him. He waved his hands as he jabbered at us. Joel kept looking to me to signal our next move. Meanwhile the stranger blustered at us in his tongue, getting more irritated every minute.                
          Abruptly, he reached over and grabbed the stone pendant. Like a game of slap-jack, Joel and I grabbed the stranger’s hand. I was afraid he would rip the necklace from Joel. The necklace gave off a shock, stronger than static electricity, and the man jumped, taken aback. His guards came to his side to protect him, but he waved them away while never taking his eyes off our startled faces.
          "Who are you? Where did you get the Creator’s stone?" the man demanded to know, and we could understand every word. Startled, I gaped at Joel, who was just as dumbfounded.
          Joel recovered and started to grin, lifting one eyebrow. "I am Joel and this is my sister, Celestine. This stone brought us here this morning. It has been in our family for ages." 
          The young man comprehended Joel’s words, but I did not expect such a dramatic reaction. His mouth fell open so wide that I could see his tonsils, and then he stumbled a few steps back, pointing to the stone in amazement. "That brought you here from your world?"
           Our world? What world was this? Not knowing what to say, my brother and I nodded in unison. The next thing we knew, all the strangers folded to their knees and spread their arms, bowing their heads toward us.
          "Well," Joel said. "This is more like it."
          There was an awkward moment as Joel and I waited, looking at the men. Joel could stand it no longer and announced in a commanding voice, "You may rise." The men obeyed, and now it was their turn to stand awkwardly. "So, who are you and where is this place?" Joel continued.
        "I am the obedient and steadfast Prince Kayin from the most loyal tribe of the Harun," the young man said in a noble manner. "These are my valiant guards. Forgive us; we did not know who it was that traveled the road, so I came to investigate.” He addressed his remarks to Joel, though he glanced at me while he talked, curious about us both. "This is the land of Fahdamin-Ra that you see about you. For a long time, all have watched and waited with much anticipation for your welcome appearance.” I observed him as he spoke. He had beautiful white teeth, but I sensed that he did not smile often. Though none of the men looked at us directly, I found myself again wishing I had worn something more formal than a tank top and shorts. 
          Joel smiled at the prince. "Well Prince Kayin, we just arrived at that circle of stone. Do you know it?" He pointed down the road in the direction from which we had come. Kayin nodded, and then glanced toward the circle.
          “So, it is exactly as was told in the legends of long ago," he said. "The Creators will always appear to us at the stone circle. How ashamed I am for my tribe, forsaking our vigilance, and not being there to welcome you." He and the other men hung their heads.
          My brother and I were confused. Did our stone bring others here before? "What do you mean by 'the legends'?" Joel asked.
          Kayin looked at both of us, but was hesitant to speak. Maybe he was afraid that he would offend us. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, addressing Joel. "We, the proud and noble tribe of the Harun, have waited for a Creator to visit, though it has been many generations. Is it not said that with patience even the tiniest seed will grow to be a tree? We began to wonder if we would see you again. Not that we did not have faith,” he added hastily. “We remembered that it is the duty of the mortals to please the Creators, not for the Creators to please the mortals. However, I am filled with joy to know that you are here now. Please, come visit my people. They will be full of delight when they see that you have returned." He bowed down again and, puppet-like, the guards did the same.
          Joel nodded. "No problem, lead the way." Rising, Kayin turned back in the direction from which he had come, and moved to the other side of Joel. The guard assembled around us, stretching the awning over our trio of heads. With a command from the prince, we proceeded down the road toward the mountains.
           I kept looking at Kayin and the guards out of the corners of my eyes. They were all so tall, and no one spoke. It felt rather intimidating. As we walked, we saw people streaming out of the mountain, heading to the fields. They all stared at our little procession.
          I wanted answers right away, so I started asking questions. "Prince Kayin, my brother and I never knew what the stone could do until this morning, when we arrived in Fahdamin-Ra. Someone hid it inside a trick box, so my father and grandmother had no knowledge of  what it could do. When did the last Creator visit here?"
            “The Great Councilor, Baruti, was the last of the Creators to appear," Kayin said after some hesitation. "It was many generations ago when we were honored with his presence. If your family did not know about the stone, then that would explain your absence." He begged Joel to tell him the story, so my brother told him all that we knew. “I wonder what happened that kept Councilor Baruti from passing on the secret?” the prince said.
          “Who knows? We are glad to be here, now.” Joel said. “So, does anyone else live here in Fahdamin-Ra besides your tribe?”
          “The Jabulani tribe lives on the river, in a little village called Jabulan,” Kayin said, pointing to the left. “The Masamba tribe still lives deep in the jungle, over that way.” He pointed to the right.
          “Tell us, what are the other tribes like?” Joel probed, wanting to know more.
          The prince hesitated and then answered as if he were measuring his words. “I have little knowledge about them. We don’t associate with each other usually. In fact, no one has seen any Jabulani for some time, but I have heard that they are often idle. As for the Masamba, they wear minimal clothing and what they do wear is rough cloth and animal skins. We occasionally see them hunting with their leopards.” I could tell by his clipped speech that Kayin did not care for the other tribes. I made a mental note to visit them so that Joel and I could find out for ourselves. The prince seemed a little too snobbish for me to trust his opinion.
          We fell into a long silence, and I could hear the calls of birds, the flap of the awning in the breeze, and the determined slap of our feet on the road, as we got closer to Harun. We approached a formidable looking bridge. It was dark brown stone with two massive statues of solemn men at either side of the entrance. Their clothing resembled what Kayin was wearing, and their pointed hats were shiny gold, reflecting the fierce sun.  
          Suddenly, he asked, “Do the other tribes know you are here?”
          “No, we had just arrived when you and your men met us,” Joel said. “Now, please tell us what Harun is like?”
          “It is as tall and majestic as the mountains from which we carved it. We have always thanked the First Creator for giving us such a perfect place to live. You will find Harun people hard working, well-educated, careful keepers of our history, and respectful of the Creator Laws. For a man who pays respect to the great, paves the way for his own greatness.” He was then silent, perhaps waiting for our response, but I was mulling over the mention of the Creator Laws. Were we really Creators? What did Creators do? What laws did Creators make, and how would we find out about them?
          Groups of people started passing by us. Women carried baskets on their heads, men carried tools in their hands, and though they glanced at us, they did not speak. They wore striped clothing of greens, browns, and yellows and, for the men only, additional stripes of orange. The women and men alike wore narrow hats of stiff fabric, with the top folded over like a flap of an envelope. The hats were solid colored and plain, with no decoration. The men wore sashes across their chests as well, and a few pieces of gold jewelry. They went into the fields and set to work at once.
          Kayin looked down his nose as he nodded to all and called out greetings to some of the men. As we bustled up to the bridge, the workers cleared out of the way, leaving the bridge empty for us. We hurried past the watchful stone guardians and onto the span. The sides were waist high walls that allowed for a view of the brown river on both sides. Trees and bushes drooped out over the water from the steep banks on either side of the river. Along the far bank, fields stretched to the base of the mountains, which loomed ahead of us.
          Beyond the bridge, I could see that the road curved a bit, ending at a massive arch, decorated with gold writing and symbols, carved into the dark brown stone. Two guards stood at the gate within the arch, swords at their sides. At our approach, they pulled their blades out of their scabbards and raised them in what I hoped was a salute.
          “Welcome to the City of Harun,” Prince Kayin announced, as our procession came to the gate. The guards all stopped, but Kayin pushed on ahead with Joel and me in his wake. We passed through the arch, entered the city, and walked from the glaring sunlight into the dark coolness. 

Monday, June 27, 2011

Interview With Biola Olatunde

Biola Olatunde, author of Blood Contract
Today, I am talking to Biola Olatunde, author of the book Blood Contract. I was thrilled when I met Biola on a social networking site, because she is a writer and a Yoruba writer at that. Because I researched Nigeria and especially the Yoruba culture for my Fahdamin-Ra series, I could tell immediately that she was Yoruba by her name. When we started corresponding back and forth, I found that she is an extremely talented woman with a long list of accomplishments, such as being the producer of a small independent production company, a writer many scripts and a producer for radio and television programs, as well as writing and producing plays, and a published author. She also runs a small concierge service that takes tourists around to interesting places in Nigeria. I don't think that she ever sleeps!

I was fascinated by her book, Blood Contract, so I quickly aquired it and dove in right away. It is about a man named Kenawari, who lives in Port Harcourt, a city in Nigeria, but not at the Izon village where he came from. He has married a white American woman, started a family, and for fifteen years, he thought that he left his old life far behind. However, Ken ends up being sent home to the Niger Delta to investigate a kidnapping at his home village. The story is an unfolding mystery as the reader learns more about the present day case that Kenawari is involved with, as well as uncovering the secrets of Ken's past and why he left the Izon, never intending to return. He meets new people in the tribe as well as people from his past, in a mysterious area that is shadowed with old secrets.

Before I read the book, I was unfamiliar with the Izon tribe and life in the Niger Delta swamps, but Biola tells the story so skillfully that I was soon there with Ken, throroughly absorbed in the plot and characters. I love how she tells an thoughtful story of the turmoil in a man's life while showing us a people who struggle to survive.


Now, let's hear from Biola:

What inspired you to write Blood Contract?
That is an interesting question Chaz, I wanted to correct an impression amongst my people that every one who lived in the Niger Delta was a militant. I had met quite a number of them and found them fiercely devoted to their watery seascape. They are generally hardworking, stoic and taciturn. I had a chance to live amongst a particular tribe of the Niger Delta and learned to respect them. I wanted to present them as the same as every other Nigerian with more reasons to question the rationale of being part of an entity that does not recognize them as equal partners

Your main character, Kenawari, is from one of the 250+ tribes in Nigeria, a different one from your own. How did you become familiar with the Izon tribe of the Niger Delta?
 I worked with one of them as a broadcaster. Being of a curious nature I wanted to know his people and at first he was suspicious but gradually saw I was sincere so he would tell me about his tribe. The Izon makes for the fourth largest tribe in my country and the richest through its resources of oil and gas. It is however the most neglected part of the country until recently.

What message in Blood Contract do you want your readers to grasp?
 Essentially, the message of Blood Contract is a social commentary of humanity’s failure to recognize fundamental rights of everyone, to dream, and work towards having that dream actualized. The human society is the same everywhere. Being a member of a part of the world that has been stereotyped as backward, it was ironic that we also discriminate against ourselves. I thought it was dumb to do that, human beings have a right to be rationale and the demands of the izon and tribes of the Niger Delta was genuine. I also did not want to write a romantic story of the bad guy and the good guy, but wanted to show that the society we live in accommodates all. The good, the bad and the ugly.

The difficulties that Ken goes up against - the poverty, the robber barons, and kidnappings that happen in his village - are those problems present in the Izon tribe today?
 Of course those problems still exist not only in my country and in the Niger Delta but in every part of the world I imagine. We have not found Utopia yet anywhere I reckon. Kidnappings have gone on even in other tribes and armed robbers have become really daring, but not as a result of being Izon but as a consequence of the imbalance in the world generally.

What are you working on now? Could you share an exerpt? Would you like to tell us about it?
 I am working on a novel close to my own tribe, the Yoruba nation. We are a race of ancient myths, religion that has existed for millennia. One of the myths of my race is called ‘abiku’ with its twin ‘emere’. Now while ‘abiku is simply repeated births of the same suspected human being into a family, the emere is assumed not to favour such repetition of incarnation but is viewed as a spirit being who comes to Earth for a particular purpose and executes its mission to the letter dying at the peak of such achievements. The ‘emere’ is dreaded, attractive and assumed to be able to bestow wealth, pain, heartaches depending on its whim. My novel is thus woven round such a suspected spirit being. The twist is though there are reasons to assume such of this particular being, Imole Ife the spirit being is much more than is supposed. I could give you a small excerpt:
So how did it all start? Might be a good question if we all do that you know, check for why we are here on earth, in terra firma, and see if we had a beginning. The classic argument about what came first, the egg or the chicken. We all have a story to tell and I want to tell you about a lot of things. I have wondered if I should just start from the middle of the story but how do I make you understand who I am really? From the mists of confusion and the several bandages that cloud the inner understanding of our journeys into matter?

You have written a lot of stories for radio and television, in  addition to your blog and your novel. What kind of writing do you like best?
I have been trying to identify specifically what I like best! I have written most types, horror, detective, crime thriller, romance and the mystical. I generally love writing what I call ‘faction’. That is a mixture of facts as fiction about situations around me. Blood Contract was based on a true story and my current work is the same. Come to think of it my radio and television stories were based on concepts, myths and supernatural of my people and society. 

I have never visited Nigeria, but I want to go. What are some of the things that visitors like the most about Nigeria?
 Would dearly love to have you as guest, the first myth that will be broken will be that Nigeria is full of scammers. We are 99% hardworking, honest normal human beings. Hospitable, love a good story and have dignity. You will find history, culture and music that is thousands of years old. You will find warm dignified Nigerians proudly in their traditional costumes going about their normal business. You will find all sorts of human nature but basically you will find a resilient nation confident in her ability to always turn bad situations to good. You will find a value system as good as anywhere in the world confronted with the kinks of the human nature just like any part of the world. You will be home too except most faces will be darker than yours I guess. And that is what visitors find surprising when they come, that we are human after all!

Have you traveled? Do you think that it impacts your books?
 Yes I have traveled, not far and wide as I dream and wish. Experiences I have garnered has taught me tolerance, charity of the spirit and acceptance that human beings are part of the garden of creation. We all make tapestries that goes into the loom of creation which makes all of this wonderful creation move, and vibrate. It has given me a balanced outlook and that affects how I write. I think what we get is a measure of what we put in, so I feel if we really try to see a bit of goodness in every situation it will in response to the laws of creation only return in multiples of like nature.

What book are you reading now?
 I am reading two books actually right now. Okapi Promise by paula Boer and We were Seven by Merle Burbaugh. It is crazy, because I had started reading Paula’s book and my computer crashed..twice Bah!! But I am determined to finish reading it but I am also sidetracked by Merle’s book.

 Are there any newer authors that have caught your interest and why?
I hope it is okay to mention you here. I was blown over when I learned a white lady was writing about my race and religion. I was very intrigued. It became something I wanted to read. Then I had a chance to read the first one and I became envious because I wish I could write about her religion as much as she has done about mine. Chaz caught my interest because I am sincerely impressed by the style and it is new to me; a creation story that follows time honoured principle of teaching young persons to be proud of their origins, identify with lofty goals and learn dignity. I always read new authors particularly on my blog as I try to showcase authors there. So I guess I come across a new author every week as I have a guest every week and I try to read their books. I have come across a rich collection of friends that way. I learn from them and my writing skill has been enhanced.
  
Thank you so much Biola, for your time and for doing such a magnificent interview! Here is a link where readers can buy a copy of Blood Contract: http://ifwgpublishing.weebly.com/bio-biola-olatunde.html  or