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The Protagonist Speaks

Interviews with the characters of your favourite books

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Magical Realism

Prof Benjamin Dinerstein (of The Ibbur’s Tale, by Lenny Abelson)

Dear readers, tonight we’re chatting with an English literature professor who encountered a most unusual ghost. Straight out of Eastern European Judaic mythology, it has led him on a journey of discovery and mysteries.

TPS: We were pleased to have the opportunity to speak with Professor Emeritus Benjamin Dinerstein about his experiences with an ibbur and the remarkable history the two of them uncovered. Professor, welcome!

BD: Thank you very much, and please call me Ben. It is a pleasure to meet you.

TPS: Likewise. Well, Ben, it is now more than twenty-two years since your encounter with the ibbur. Have you had any further contact either with her or Zephaniah, the mysterious old woman who played such a prominent role in the narrative?

BD: Sadly, I have not.

TPS: But you are quite certain that you actually encountered an ibbur, in this case, the ghost of your former student, Miriam?

BD: Excuse me. I hate to wax pedantic, but I must make a quick correction. An ibbur is not to be confused with a ghost. It is a very specific type of possessive spirit. Miriam came to me seeking my assistance. She had one last mitzvah, a good deed, to perform, and that was to finish her uncle’s quest. In fairness, she would surely have completed the task herself had she not been killed in the automobile accident. That said, I am absolutely certain that the entity I encountered was indeed Miriam.

TPS: I understand. In fact, I found the story quite convincing myself. Why, there’s so much history — not only her family’s saga, but European history, from before World War One through World War Two…

BD: … and, as you probably realized as quickly as I did, it all “fits.” As implausible as it might seem, these events took place almost exactly as Susanna, whom Miriam had planned to contact, described them.

TPS: I found Susanna absolutely fascinating. What remarkable strength she must have had!

BD: I got to know her quite well over the years, and she was a wonderful woman. She died just a few months ago, though not before she had seen five great-grandchildren.

TPS: But Naomi was her only child?

BD: Yes. It seems that irony ran rampant in that family. Michael Goldberg, Susanna’s husband, had had a bad case of mumps and was apparently unable to have children of his own. Similarly, Zephaniah told me that the man Yosef Müller believed was his father had also been rendered sterile by that disease. However, it seems as though everything fell into place nevertheless, didn’t it?

TPS: Indeed. Now, I must ask you something a little more personal. You have long described yourself as a skeptic, yet you seem so willing to accept an encounter with a purported ibbur without any reservations. Did you step out of character? Did you make an exception because of your feelings toward Miriam, your former student?

BD: Not at all! Like the ancient Greek skeptics, I tend to withhold assent, at least initially. Thereafter, I reserve judgment until I have gathered sufficient information. The image of Miriam convinced me that she was indeed my brilliant student, and the strange family saga that we unfolded was considerably more believable than the appearance of an ibbur. Everything made sense, except —

Continue reading “Prof Benjamin Dinerstein (of The Ibbur’s Tale, by Lenny Abelson)” →
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Gerty (of Gerty’s Way, by Susan Bass Marcus)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a sweet lady who likes pastries and cats — and in her spare time explores magical realms. She is here to talk anything from fairy folk to dragons, from Paris to the Sahara.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I’m a woman in the prime of life, ‘of a certain age,’ they say, but I am filled with energy, curiosity, and a big appetite. The USA Midwest was my birthplace and still is home, but I travel a lot. Mostly to Paris, France because I can’t get enough of the city’s baguettes and croissants. It’s nothing like the small town I grew up in, with a few diners, a gas station, an all-purpose general store—you get the picture.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Puppets!!! I loved pretending. I used to put on puppet shows for the kids in my neighborhood, you know, I’d hide behind a card table resting on its side and I’d put on a show. With my hands moving dragons, princesses, kings, queens, elves, and more, I created a magical world for us kids. 

What do you do now?

No one has known this about me, but I have traveled so much because I wanted to find places still inhabited by dragons, fairy folk, and the unfortunate mortals who have to live with them.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Gerty’s Way is a perfect disguise, hiding the real work that I do. Yes, I am that sweet lady who likes pastries, cats, and my best friends, but I am also an explorer of magical realms and that, my friend, is where future books about my life will be going. Mysteriously, Author is working on her upcoming book about goofy birds. I don’t know why she’s doing that first since my secret life is more interesting.

Continue reading “Gerty (of Gerty’s Way, by Susan Bass Marcus)” →
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The Lightbender (of Safe Passage, by Karen Menezes)

Dear readers, tonight with us is the Lightbender, an illusionist who works as a healer. After days of wandering the border forest of Capherayna, he stumbled upon the Xaeltik community, an ancient tribe who are unable to defend themselves from the dark forces of the modern world. He is here to tell us about his adventures and struggles as he risks his life to save others.

Tell us about where you’re from. Urban or rural? Small town? What was life like?

A bunch of messianic fogies convinced my family to give up their only child for the good of mankind. I have no memory of my parents and no idea where I’m from. I was taken to a secluded environment in the mountains. The academy had no technology and no scope for a social life. My teachers were as emotionless as rocks and ensured we emulated them. It sucked, to a great extent, but I don’t regret it. I developed skills that few human beings could dream of. And, yes, it was worth it in the end.

That sounds like a hard childhood! Even so, I’m sure you have a few cherished memories.

The young Lightbender wasn’t too fond of his childhood. My teachers tortured our minds and bodies in the name of resilience. But when I look back, I miss hang gliding in the mountains, making strawberries from thin air and, in a masochistic way, pushing my body to the extreme. I developed a rich inner world that sustains me to this day.

What do you do now?

I’m an illusionist. It’s not as complicated as it sounds. I’m aware of the illusion of duality and pierce the veil if needed. Some say I perform miracles, but it’s hard work and practice, really. I’m a healer, one who wanders the world serving the afflicted in war and natural disasters. My toolkit comprises herbs, acupuncture needles, my hands and a sleek hang glider. Occasionally, I use my hang glider to get out of sticky situations.

I’m curious to know about your latest adventure. Which part of the world are you in?

My latest adventure is trying to avoid adventure as far as possible. I’ve been stranded in sieges and riots, famine and landmine-infested regions. I’ve walked into a massacre, for God’s sake! Sadly, I have a feeling I’m going to get myself into trouble again—but only if I visit the borderlands. There’s a reason I’ve avoided them like the plague all these years. I’ve been stuck in Capherayna for a while and can’t get myself to leave.

Continue reading “The Lightbender (of Safe Passage, by Karen Menezes)” →
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Luna (of Pink, Not Fanged, by Paige Etheridge)

Dear readers, tonight we interview a young woman who found herself at the clashing point of science and the supernatural. She is here to talk about anxiety, the dangers of the Amazon river, and were-dolphins.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I lived in Narragansett,  Rhode Island until I was eighteen. A beach town known as Gansett by locals. Being in New England, it’s cold much of the year. Despite this I walked along the beach all the time, whether it was returning home from school or just to wander while looking at the ocean. Narragansett is also known for it’s Witch’s Altar and Druid’s Chair. Joseph Peace Hazard built the Druid styled burial site for his family. Even though it’s located in a rich and considerably safe neighborhood, I was always too scared to go there. It wasn’t just because of my conflicts over the paranormal at the time. I was terrified I’d run into classmates doing crazy stuff there. It’s the perfect place to have sent my anxiety through the roof. I hated parties and drugs. Add illegal trespassing and satanic rituals? I’m staying as far away as possible. 

So do you believe in ghosts, spirits, the paranormal?

I tried not to for a long time. It scared me too much and anything which spiked my anxiety was something I always ran away from. The science I long studied didn’t give such things much value. Yet this didn’t comfort me. Somehow I knew science didn’t have the real answers for any of this. Answers about the mysterious  woman and Amazon River Dolphins I dreamed about. Answers about the power from the Dolphin tooth I found. Spending years being haunted by the ghost of a Weredolphin and finally having the paranormal literally staring you in the face changed that. I didn’t start to believe, I started to know it’s real.

Do you know how you got your name?

I don’t actually. Yet for years of my life, I very much felt like the moon. Watching others from afar. Living in my own space far from others. Not known well by most. Most of the time people passed me without a thought. Occasionally I would be stared at and it would terrify me. I found comfort being isolated and alone. But overtime, I learned to illuminate through my own light. 

Did you have any favourite things as a child? Any cherished memories?

There were glow in the dark stars on my ceiling I loved looking at when I couldn’t go outside to look at the real stars. I didn’t have things I was attached to as a child. I loved stargazing. It’s one of the few things which calmed me as a kid. I still take much comfort in it now, even if the constellations visible to me have changed. I don’t remember my family much. We were all ghosts to each other. Barley seeing or interacting with one another. 

Do you have thoughts on Astrology/Astronomy? 

Both are of equal value to me now that I know what I know. But there is still much I need to learn about both. Looking to the stars teaches you a lot, but not everything. There is still much I need to do in order to better understand the Cosmos. But there are also things I won’t understand even in my new life. Yet I can still gaze in awe. 

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

I was in combat training with a Werejaguar. The first Jaguar I ever encountered nearly killed me. Training with a Werejaguar, who can take on both Jaguar and Humanoid form, has given me the advantages I need to survive in the wilderness. I have scars to prove it and I’m proud of them. 

Continue reading “Luna (of Pink, Not Fanged, by Paige Etheridge)” →
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Cassidy and Torr (of Moon Deeds, by Palmer Pickering)

Dear readers, tonight with us are fraternal twins, a sister and brother, from Earth’s future. At least, a future where science and magic clash, the best defense against rampant alien technology is magic, and the only hope for humankind rests in the hands of the legendary Star Children.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Cassidy: Well, we’re twins, in case you can’t tell.

Torr: We’re identical.

Cassidy: Haha. You wish you looked like me.

Torr: I do, actually. Your eyes, anyway.

Cassidy: Awww, that’s sweet.

Torr: We grew up in Mt. Shasta, in California.

Cassidy: Land of the crazy shamans. We got out just in time.

Torr: Or, we left too soon. Depends on how you look at it.

Cassidy: True. The shamans protected us from the Tegs. If we were in Shasta right now, we’d be safe on Earth, instead of on this god-forsaken rock.

Torr: The moon’s not so bad.

Cassidy: [eye roll] It sucks. Just sayin’. So, what questions do you want to ask us?

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Cassidy: My favorite toy was Grandma Leann’s mirror.

Torr: A dangerous weapon.

Cassidy: [Laughs] I used to be able to move things with it. It was awesome.

Torr: I saw the flaming monster woman in it once when I was a kid. I wouldn’t go near that thing for years afterward.

What do you do now?

Torr: We’re refugees on the moon. I feel kind of useless. There’s not much to do here.

Cassidy: We’re supposed to save the world. Earth, that is. And the other planets too, I guess. Seems kinda ridiculous.

Torr: People think we’re the Star Children, and we’re supposed to find our ancestors on a lost planet across the galaxy. The golden Star People. But nobody knows where the home planet is. It’s kind of stressful having everybody look at you with this burning hope in their eyes. I mean, you’d think we were magical saviors or something.

Cassidy: We need to learn magic.

Torr: Yeah. We need to go to the planet Muria.

Cassidy: But then we’d have to leave here.

Torr: I thought you wanted to leave.

Cassidy: I do. I don’t.

Torr: Errgh.

Continue reading “Cassidy and Torr (of Moon Deeds, by Palmer Pickering)” →
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Rachael Fasching (of Not a Mourning Person, by Catherine Stein)

Dear readers, tonight with me is a young woman from Book 2 of the Victorian historical-fantasy Potions and Passions series. We’re always happy when our patrons revisit us!

This volume is her first appearance. She is here to tell us about
Ancient curses, poetry, murder, intrigue, magic — and about love.

Welcome, Mrs. Fasching. We are so pleased you have accepted this interview with our newspaper. Please introduce yourself for our readers.

Call me Rachael, please. My married name has a host of unpleasant memories associated with it.

Oh, dear me. Yes. Can you tell us something about your background? Who was your husband and what happened to him?

Well. Anyone who reads the gossip rags knows something of the matter. Mr. Fasching was an American potions importer. He became involved with the wrong people and ended up dead. I can’t say I’m terribly sorry about it. He was rather a villain, as it turns out.

I must say, you wear your widowhood well. That is a marvelous dress.

Isn’t it, though? I’m sure many would tell me that the neckline is too low to be appropriate for a widow, and the red embroidery likewise improper, but I have never been one to conform to restrictive fashion ideals. I prefer to set the new trends. People may gape and whisper if they wish, but no one can say I lack for beauty or elegance.

Your bold personal style does garner attention. Is that your plan, now that you will soon put your mourning period behind you? Attend parties and show off?

Parties and showing off are always in the plan. But I have far more interesting goals for my life at present. As I have indicated, I do not wish to use Fasching’s name. I intend to remarry to remedy the situation. In fact, I fully intend to woo the most passionate, romantic man in all of England until I have earned his undying love.

How strange. Because your name has recently been linked to that of Professor Avery Cantrell, a man noted for being dull and peculiar.

Ah, dear readers, you know so little about him. I don’t expect you to believe me, but Cantrell is so much more than you see on the surface. He hides himself behind his research, but I am uncovering his secrets and I must tell you they are delightfully intriguing. I do not doubt we will have fantastic adventures together.

Speaking of adventures, what can you tell us about yours?

Well. Certain information is not mine to share, but I can tell you that I have recently learned of strange, ancient curses and deadly potions allergies. I’ve encountered murder by poison and discovered vital clues. I’ve scandalized society by driving steam cars fully as well as any man.

Continue reading “Rachael Fasching (of Not a Mourning Person, by Catherine Stein)” →
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Benji Fisher (of Mermaids Are Real, by Bo Wu)

Dear readers, tonight with me is a young boy who grew up by the sea. Used to surfing with dolphins and some odd things encountered underwater, he’s come here to tell us about how his life changes following a recruitment speech from an octopus the night before his thirteenth birthday.

What was it like growing up in Beech Mill?

I liked the town much more than the growing up part. It’s hard when you stick out and all everyone else is trying to do is conform. I think no matter where you are in the world, that’s a problem for kids.

Having said that, Beech Mill was a great place to grow up. I was in or on the water whenever I wanted for as long as I wanted. My dad had a boat. What else can you ask for, right?

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

I wasn’t a toy kid. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just gravitated toward the outdoors. A part of me always knew I belonged outdoors and, more specifically, in the water. I just didn’t know how much I really did belong until Octavius showed up and told me about my real home in Sanjowqua.

But, I guess my surfboard could be considered a toy. I had plenty of fun on it. That’s for sure. It was on my surfboard that I had my first run-in with Eeke, Zeeke, and Mai, the dolphins that kept watch over me.

What do you do now?

I’m still thirteen, so no matter what, I get to still be a kid, but now I get to be a merman kid with an ocean full of creatures to play with and unexplored territory, at least for me, that I get to call my home.

I think for the meantime, I’m going to be helping prepare for the next full moon party in a few weeks which, by the way, is the first one Sanjowqua has celebrated in thirteen years. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have my hands full for the foreseeable future.

I’ll spend my free time working on honing my Mystiq powers. I see another visit to my dad’s lair again pretty soon, as well. Continue reading “Benji Fisher (of Mermaids Are Real, by Bo Wu)” →

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Henry Ainsworth (of How to Seduce a Spy, by Catherine Stein)

Dear readers, tonight with me is an agent of the British crown, with a deceptively simple directive: end the magical potions crisis, by any means necessary. He’s here to tell us about how posing as a bodyguard and joining the beguiling potions expert on her continent-hopping expedition led to danger of both life and heart.

Ah, Ainsworth. Welcome. Please sit down.

Sir? It was my understanding that all reports were to be conducted in private. It appears we have an audience.

Indeed. Given the importance of this mission, Parliament has decreed that the information be made available to this carefully selected committee.

I see.

Now, please introduce yourself to these fine people.

Captain Henry Charles MacAlaster Ainsworth, intelligence officer, retired. My current title is that of Civilian Consultant to Her Majesty’s Armed Forces. You may also know me as Lord Henry, youngest son of George Ainsworth, Marchese di Murlo. Not that my father’s Italian title puts us anywhere but on the fringes of British aristocracy. His money on the other hand… well, I’m certain you understand.

Tell us a bit more of your background. Your childhood? Your family?

I don’t see how this is especially relevant to my report.

*an awkward pause ensues*

Very well. I grew up traveling often between Italy and England for my father’s business dealings, and Scotland where my mother’s family lives. My father stopped traveling when I was a teenager, and my brothers are happy to remain in Italy growing grapes, but I have never stopped craving travel and adventure. I live in London now, but my occupation takes me all over the world.

Ah, yes. About this occupation of yours. What exactly is a “Civilian Consultant?”

You wish me to be blunt? I’m a spy. What I once did in the army, I now do as a direct agent of the Crown. I sneak into places where I’m not supposed to be to gather intelligence. I’m particularly good at drawing maps from memory and I steal things probably more often than necessary. My sister, Emma, calls it a “disgraceful profession,” but I find it rather suits me.

Continue reading “Henry Ainsworth (of How to Seduce a Spy, by Catherine Stein)” →
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Nyla (of Catgirl Roommate, by Stephanie O’Brien)

Dear readers, tonight on the interview couch is a human-shaped lunatic with the furry ears, tail, and manners of an oversized housecat. A cat who loves stealing boxes and lying on personal belongings, and despises clothing of every kind.

She’s here to tell us about her life with her  prudish, responsible neat freak roommate.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I grew up in a lot of places! Mr. Michi, the human who gives me food and a house, moves around a lot – usually after I escape through the front door and visit the houses near us.

He doesn’t like it when I do that, but those other yards have lots of interesting animals to chase, gardens to dig in, and places to sun myself, so I don’t really care what Mr. Michi says.

Humans are too ridiculous to listen to, anyway. They tell me to wear uncomfortable floppy cages made of cloth, and when I don’t, they complain about me being “naked” and they try to keep their kittens away from me. As if I even want to be near humans’ kittens – they’re too noisy, and they pull my ears and tail. I don’t like them.

Do you remember anything from when you were a kitten?

Not really. I almost never try to, anyway; none of that is happening anymore, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t even care about what happened yesterday, never mind when I was a kitten.

You humans have this strange fascination with what happened so long ago that it doesn’t matter, and what isn’t even happening yet.

You say things like “Don’t eat too much or you’ll get fat”, but I’m not fat right now, so why shouldn’t I eat your food as well as mine? Yours is probably better anyway. Actually, even if I was fat right now, I’d still want your food, and I don’t see why you can’t understand that you should give it to me.

What do you do now?

Whatever I feel like doing at any given moment. Take a nap on the human’s laptop, lick myself in front of the window, poke the human to wake him up so he’ll feed me, eat the small animal in the yard beside ours, or splash the water out of my bowl because I’m annoyed. Whatever I want.

The humans complain about it sometimes, but it isn’t my fault that what they want me to do isn’t what I want to do. Continue reading “Nyla (of Catgirl Roommate, by Stephanie O’Brien)” →

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