Guest Post: “Influences & Inspirations” by Premee Mohamed

MohamedP-BeneathTheRisingMy parents said I was talking at eight months, and I believed them because many of my cousins also started super early; they said I was walking before I was a year old, and I believed them for the same reason. But when they told me that I could read when I was two, I made an earsplittingly loud raspberry noise. How could that even be possible?

Anyway, later on I researched hyperlexia and (with sinking stomach and moistening skin) realized that they might have been right after all. I cannot remember a time when I couldn’t read. So when I think about the influences on my personality, decisions, preferences, and proclivities, I think: it’s books, it’s always books. It’s always been books and it’s always going to be books. Continue reading

Guest Post: “Unexpected Influences” by Jen Williams

WilliamsJ-AuthorPicAuthors are influenced by all sorts of things – their favourite writers, their childhoods, the amount of caffeine consumed at any one time. Sometimes though the influences that shape a book can come from stranger places, or show themselves in unusual ways. The Ninth Rain was a book that formed through an alchemy of oddities, so here are a few of the things that have their fingerprints on the first volume of the Winnowing Flame trilogy. Continue reading

Guest Post: “Finding Burroughs” by Ren Warom

WaromR-AuthorPicMy first encounter with Burroughs was in the drawling, high-pitched lectures of Tom the Priest in Drugstore Cowboy. Of course, now I know Burroughs better, I figure he was playing himself. Not Tom, then: Bill. Bill the Priest. El Hombre Invisible. A modern day Buffalo Bill with words for bullets, playing out his last stand forever on the sun-baked, hard-packed desert of postmodern expression.

I saw Naked Lunch the movie before I read the book. God I love that movie, it’s one hell of a trip. I didn’t dig the book though, total DNF on the first try. Then I went to MMU as a mature student in my early twenties as a single mum of one, and I sort of collided with Burroughs headlong, ended up tangled together like I was trying be the same damn person. Continue reading