I didn’t read the newspapers. I didn’t watch the news. But the moment Samantha Winters disappeared, something snapped inside of me.  I felt it in my body, in the thrumming of my heart. I could see her whenever I closed my eyes. I could feel her whenever I opened them.

But that was impossible.  I did not know Samantha Winters.  I only knew her name.

But all the same, I had visions of her terrified face peering through the darkness. I saw her open her lips and call out to me. Yet, as soon as I woke up, the visions would just go away. I’d hardly remember a thing. But every time I let my guard down, every time I blinked, I saw her terrified eyes. I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing, but as soon as I fell asleep, it made sense again. The memories, shattered, fell back inside my head.

The mist came soon after the girl disappeared. I could see it forming in both my dreams and in the real world. I could feel the mist even if no one else saw it. I could feel the crystals dancing along my skin, cold and yet burning to the touch. I could see what no one else saw.

I should have paid more attention to those visions, those signs.  Maybe then I would have been prepared when they came for me.  But, despite it all, the trouble didn’t start with Samantha. It started with the mist and the strange boy it brought with it.

******

That is how my book, the first in the trilogy, of “The Funnyman” opens. I like to describe it as Prince Charming meets a serial killer meets a battle of the gods meets kidnapping, escape, and an ending that leaves you utterly enchanted. The more formal description is here: It isn’t a laughing matter when Diana starts to see things in the mist which other people don’t: monsters, gods, and deadly shadows. Yet now she sees another thing, the world of the Impetus, a reality where humans are enslaved and the once-beautiful gods are actually tyrants. Diana must find a way to escape before the exiled king Fear, a vengeful murderer, hunts Diana down to get back something she’s stolen from him. But will her growing feelings for the Prince Isak, the oddly sullen god of comedy, draw her into an all-out war?

The book’s premise is everything I loved growing up. It’s the nitty-gritty type fantasy that looks beautiful at first, but then there’s always that twist that leaves you feeling a little bit unsettled. It’s the kind of beauty that draws you out of your seat while watching a movie, but then the music swells, the action heightens, and you’re left wondering what just happened after a favorite character suddenly meets a very untimely end. Don’t get me wrong, I love magic as much as the next person. But, as the people in this book quickly learn, those who break the rules of magic have a very hefty price to pay.

Of course, I’d like to thank all my wonderful teachers for supporting me in this endeavor. (Yes, I put teachers in the book dedication, and I meant it!) Yet, the journey to publication was a hard one, I’ll tell you that much. It involved sending letters out to over a hundred publishers and taking rejections and criticism like a champ. Finally, I secured a Clean Reads publisher after a year of hard work. If I had to tell another writer how to write, I’d tell them, firstly, that I don’t have a teaching degree so I’m probably not qualified to teach much of anything. And, secondly, if they still wanted advice, I’d say this. Write now.

Writing, if it’s what you’re truly passionate about, will take up two things. It will take up your time, and it will take up little bits and pieces of your life. Writing a story is as much of a journey as it is an ordeal. It is, in its simplest form, like putting your soul out there for the whole world to see. Writers and magicians have something in common.  They both perform magic.

LEARN MORE ABOUT THE BOOK AT:

• Website: http://sophiawhittemore.com/
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