Click on Books Teacup and Reviews for Helen's interview with Yesha. Yesha reviewed Shepherds' Mayday; you can read her delightful review here: "Review"
My thanks to Dori Klaproth for the opportunity to spill the beans a bit about myself and my writing. My name is Helen Bea Kirk; the name is a well- thought out derivation of a couple of family names and my youngest child’s imagination. The pen name allows me anonymity as an author and makes doing my taxes easier.
After having been shot down (figuratively) by a big publishing house years ago, I stopped writing. Can you believe that? I can’t…now. Anyway, I realized when I did finally pick up a pen to begin plotting out stories – I was going to skip the ‘big mean publisher’ and self-publish. Little did I know what a daunting task self-publishing would be; nevertheless, I got jiggy with it and I currently have four titles available in kindle format and paperback.
Voila!
A sad truth.
All four of these books were previously published by me under different titles and an alternate pen name. Why did I scratch them and begin anew? Easy. They sucked before. Yep, I’m not too proud to admit that what I threw my heart into, I had to force upon my family and friends to read. Poor family and friends, but don’t we always hurt the ones we love? The last argument with my siblings about the behavior of a character in one of my books was the final straw. They didn’t get it. They did not understand my ‘author intent’, which was to illustrate how messed up people can find Christ too.
Back to the drawing board.
I’ve grown as a person and a writer in the last five years. Time takes care of many ills. Starting over as a writer was so important because it allowed me to take the best of what I had written and expand on it. I tossed out scenes that I had grappled with when I wrote the original story – like descriptive sex scenes. That kind of writing takes a dedication of thought that I just didn’t have and I can see that now. I got away from the first- person point of view too, and threw out a plethora of foul language that I falsely thought might create a draw. You might say I got a little leaner and a little meaner, ha. The main thing is – I’m happier with my work.
Where do the story ideas come from?
Everywhere, is the only right answer for me. I traveled a lot when I was young. My father pursued better jobs so I met a variety of people. Growing up in a small farming community in northern Canada, my best friend was a Pakistani girl named Shereen – we were both ten years old when I taught her to ride my bike. Their house smelled amazing. To this day, if I smell curry, I think of her warm and inviting family. All my uncles drove combines and snowmobiles across thousands of acres; the same black fertile soil that my mud-boots sunk into and disappeared! In another town, I had a Hungarian friend, Agnes. She was at my house when my mother forgot bread in the toaster and we had a kitchen fire. Then there was the city where I had my first manager job – at K-Mart! Yeah, you can say what you want, but that’s where I met the boy who took me to his prom; it was my first. He was so cute! I bet you want to know what happened? Sure. After prom, we drove to the seashore (New Jersey) with another couple to watch my date surf. I kid you not. We sat there on the sand while Chris (fake name to protect the innocent) surfed drunk by moonlight and got hit with a huge wave. His surf board, which was tethered to his ankle, shot up and cracked his head. I met his parents in the emergency room later. Special people moments like these and so many others stick in your emotional recall. When I mix those memories with bits of absurdity that come naturally for me, it starts to congeal. What I love most of all is using those sinner characters I create and growing them to redemption. It keeps me going. Despite the Christian references, I write for the secular world.
Do I get writer’s block?
Yes, but it’s short-lived. The big ‘idea trigger’ that ends writer’s block for me is the mall or the fair – even the farmer’s market. Mainly because of the walking adjectives. Super helpful.
The hardest thing about writing? Two things; lack of time to write and the pages I wrote that are not being read.
If I were a car?
I would be a conglomeration of vehicles. I’d be something useful, probably slightly dinged up a bit, but still can move. Aha! A Hummer with a Porshe Boxster engine; the interior of a Lincoln and the history of a Volkswagon bus.
What famous person do I get told I resemble? Easy. Sally Field and Jamie Lee Curtis. Does it matter that I feel like I look like Roseanne Barr? You decide…
What would I do if I won the lottery?
I’d give my church a nice check and take my family on a mind-blowing mission trip. I would get a massage every day and try those body wraps - in an effort to reduce my ever-widening posterior before she gets her own zip code. I never used to refer to my body parts in the third person, but when breast cancer hit one of them, suddenly my girls were in peril. I’m going to skip the ‘bucket list’ question because it’s a bit too close to home for me.
Hoarder?
I’ve become an accidental hoarder. For years BC (before children) we were a neat-nick couple; everything had its place and there was plenty of time in the day to spend shopping for solutions to keep the dog from digging holes in the yard. Careers, children, illnesses and aging parents are like giant emery boards filing away at our time. Suddenly the days got shorter and there was no time to reach idle goals like washing and vacuuming my car once a week or strolling through the department store for the perfect top for those cream-colored pants. Things began to pile up more than I’d care to admit. Thank heavens for Home Depot and Hobby Lobby! I love Rubbermaid clear storage tubs, baskets, trunks and filing cabinets. We’re more organized now; we hoard in a container store sort of way.
I’d give my church a nice check and take my family on a mind-blowing mission trip. I would get a massage every day and try those body wraps - in an effort to reduce my ever-widening posterior before she gets her own zip code. I never used to refer to my body parts in the third person, but when breast cancer hit one of them, suddenly my girls were in peril. I’m going to skip the ‘bucket list’ question because it’s a bit too close to home for me.
Hoarder?
I’ve become an accidental hoarder. For years BC (before children) we were a neat-nick couple; everything had its place and there was plenty of time in the day to spend shopping for solutions to keep the dog from digging holes in the yard. Careers, children, illnesses and aging parents are like giant emery boards filing away at our time. Suddenly the days got shorter and there was no time to reach idle goals like washing and vacuuming my car once a week or strolling through the department store for the perfect top for those cream-colored pants. Things began to pile up more than I’d care to admit. Thank heavens for Home Depot and Hobby Lobby! I love Rubbermaid clear storage tubs, baskets, trunks and filing cabinets. We’re more organized now; we hoard in a container store sort of way.
This happy wife and minivan mom of two fine young men hopes to share her adventurous, suspenseful romance novels with interested readers all over the world. See more at: www.hbkirkpublishing.com/
It’s been my pleasure to rant. I hope to connect with you on FB! Helen Bea Kirk.
It’s been my pleasure to rant. I hope to connect with you on FB! Helen Bea Kirk.
