Tag Archives: character interviews

Ten questions from Where were you? character ‘Christian’

Why try?

1. If this is what I was born to be — a nobody — why try any harder to be somebody I’m not? Some over-achievin’ college boy? I could never do that.

2. If I’m always the one gettin’ left, is it me, or is it them? And why do I care so much?

3. Should I give up on her the way she gave up on herself?

4. Since the ‘high’ comes first, and her family comes last, how am I supposed to be the mother and the father of her house. How do I do that when I’m only nineteen?

Deep down, I wonder

5. Is it crazy for me to miss somebody I never met?

6. Is it possible for me to crave someone I barely know?

7. Is she too good for me?

8. Is it really love if it she could walk away so easily?

My tattoes

Yeah, they’re all over. A friend did ’em. They’re personal, though. Onto somethin’ else.


9. Judge a book by it’s cover you? You put it down before you could read a single page. A paragraph. Could I at least get two sentences?  A sentence?

10. Sometimes I think to myself, “Is that really what you think of me just because I dress the way I dress?”

If you really knew Christian

Ill tell you a little bit about me, to save you the trouble of judging my cover:

People say I’m jumpy — I got my reasons. I never know what’s comin’ next.

I don’t get drunk to act stupid – I don’t even like alcohol to be honest. I don’t get high to be lazy – I do what I do because it’s all I ever knew – because if I didn’t, I’d crack under pressure.

I can’t afford to snap. It’s not an option; I take care of four people, I work, I still haven’t even graduated high school. If I didn’t smoke…

I wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d probably be…

I don’t know.

I may give off a vibe that says, “Oh, Christian? — What a bum. He’s wasting his life. He’s lazy. He don’t care.”

And maybe I don’t care  most of the time — about myself. But at this point, it’s not about me.

If you really knew me, you’d know the people I love mean more to me than — than I mean to myself. It’s almost like, “To hell with me, what can I do for them? And I’d do anything for them. I’d do anything for her — she knows who she is — 

By any means necessary.


“You left me.”
Not realizing until I’ve said my final good-bye and closed the door behind me, that he’s not referring to the past.
He’s prophesying our future.”
― Alyson Noel, Blue Moon

“…I will exile my thoughts if they think of you again, and I will rip my lips out if they say your name once more. Now if you do exist, I will tell you my final word in life or in death, I tell you goodbye.”
― Knut Hamsun, Hunger

“Perhaps family itself, like beauty, is temporary, and no discredit need attach to impermanence.”

– Gregory Maguire, A Lion Among Men

“Probably everything in my life comes back to a feeling of abandonment, and this city never abandons you.”
― Ann Douglas

quotes on abandonment


Inside the mind of Just Beneath the Surface ‘mystery’ antagonist


It stays between Kendall and me

 What happens between Kendall and I is just that — between me and Kendall. Not one person could look me in the eye and tell me I don’t love my wife. That woman knows how I feel about her. Should it matter what anyone else thinks?



Women are peculiar creatures

 They have peculiar needs, peculiar wants, peculiar attitudes and peculiar ways of expressing gratitude – they simply never do it.

 A woman can call a man fat, lash out after a long day, make jokes about ‘training’ men, even laugh at his package. But the moment a man retaliates or admits to ‘training’ his woman, he’s abusive. Someone explain it to me, because apparently, I’m too ignorant to understand. I work all day. I work with incompetent fools, and I refuse to come home to an insubordinate woman. It’s the principal. It doesn’t change my love.


Looking back at all of our fights

 Deep down, I know I haven’t handled myself the way I knew I should have. Neither has she. I apologize to her in every way possible: Roses, my apologies, when we make love — nothing makes up for the moments where I take it too far, but the closest thing to making it up to her is the love we make.

 I give her everything I have, and I think that the problem with women is their inability to get rid of their walls. They’ve got walls around their hearts, and it causes them to do and say the most horrible things, as though men don’t have feelings too. I’m here to tell you — we, men have feelings. Maybe in your opinion it doesn’t excuse my blow-ups, but in my opinion, blowing up is the only way to get results with a woman as stubborn as Kendall. I know it’s wrong, and I want to handle her differently, but just when I think we understand each other, I’m apologizing all over again.


As time goes on, I see improvement, but I also feel her drifting away from me

 Nights like these I sit, I wait, I wonder, I hurt and I want her to feel what I feel.

 Nights like these, Kendall leaves me no choice.

 When she finally shows her face, and I’ve been here sitting alone, when I’ve got a business trip in the morning, and she’s out with her kids all weekend, I could crush her with my bare hands.

 Before I know it, I don’t even see her. I only hear her, which makes it worse. The sound of her crying when she’s the reason I’ve broken my promise yet again is like this trigger. I’m the loaded gun.

 She makes the mistake of telling me she doesn’t know if she can do this any longer. Did she think that would make things any better — was this the time to say that to me? No.

 Doesn’t she see me standing over her? Does she think this is the way I want it to be between us? Doesn’t she know I try?

 Yet I’m a monster for having feelings?


Watching her sleep, looking at what I’ve done to her

 People would think I’m the monster. They would think she deserves better. Well, they’re wrong, because once this passes over, we’ll grow stronger. And if she doesn’t change, and I can’t change, and if she leaves me like she says she will…


I don’t know


Honestly? I dream of a place where Kendall and me can just be. That place isn’t here. This isn’t where we belong. If she won’t submit to me here, I know for a fact that she will submit to me there.






 Just Beneath the Surface I