Novels by CC: Helen Hanson tells 3 lies

If you were driving on a dark, stormy night which of your book characters would you want as a companion

Not Amir. He’s a bigger threat than any lightning bolt. And he’d expect to drive. Though, he’d be able to fix the car if it broke down. And if he couldn’t fix it, he’d jack somebody else’s to get us home.

Perhaps Merlin. He’s funny and spins a brilliant tale to while away the time. Even if we got stranded, he wouldn’t be fussed about it. The man’s unflappable. Plus he’s probably carrying a flask.

Which character would you “run away with?

I’m not the runaway type. I’m more of a dig a trench and make them come get me type.

But if I had to run away, then Clint. The guy’s loaded, and we could go anywhere. Besides, he’s in love with Beth, so I could bring my husband, and it wouldn’t be awkward.

Do you have a favorite character and what is their favorite candle scent?

Beth likes vanilla candles. Clean, fragrant, but not fussy. Like her.

Paige, on the other hand, prefers cloying, musky, sandalwoody scents that permeate down to the studs. There is no airing that out. It requires flames.

If someone were to peek in your kitchen window what would they see?

Atop my kitchen table sits a microscope, slides, and dissection kit. The embalmed frog, crawfish, and perch are in the box. But we have plans for them.

Some Warhammer 40K dudes, too.

Who would win in a staring contest you or your husband?

While he would be an excellent contender, I would win because I’m far more sneaky and devious. He’s much nicer than I am. I would likely resort to something underhanded and dastardly just to win.

Bragging rights: Priceless

What was more intense, learning to fly or writing a novel?

Both disciplines require the constant use of all your senses. Writing a peak scene should be intense. But I’ll go with flying on this one. No question.

The difference?

When I write, I play. When I fly, the playground is limited to the operational envelope of the aircraft and my environs. If I muck up a sentence I can use my trusty backspace to fix any situation. There is no equivalent to the backspace key on an airplane. Serious errors may result in dire consequences. I do not mess about.

Doing spins over the ocean at 6000 ft doesn’t qualify as ‘messing about.’ (smile)

What meal would you prepare for a “reunion dinner” for your characters?

Grilled lamb kebobs on a bed of golden saffron rice. Hummus and pitas still poufy with steam. Sides of fresh tabouleh, fatoosh, babaganoush, couscous, and crispy falafel drizzled with tahini.

Toss in a fruity Syrah and some chocolate-laced baklava, and I want a seat at this table.

What question do you always answer “yes” to?

Will I enjoy reading one of your books?

Buy 3 Lies Now!

If you knew the secret to a wonderful cup of tea would you share?

I would absolutely share. I’d post it on my website. I’d even make you a cup if you came ‘round to my house, Christine. I love a good cup of tea. Earl Grey, hot.

What is the strangest word you know?

Twaddle.

A friend of mine still cites the time I used this word in conversation, and he refused to believe it was real until he checked with Mr. Webster. Of course my credibility was vindicated.

His reckless aspersion was, of course, twaddle.

Is there a quirky habit you have that drives other people crazy?

I use disclaimers. I don’t know why. I make a perfectly legitimate and accurate statement then feel some inexplicable compulsion to qualify it. As a writer, I can edit that particular tendency. This is why I do not give speeches.

Are you a bug killer or a bug rescuer?

Flies, mosquitoes, fire ants, and any spider on my person, I’m a killer. Any brown recluse in or around my house, a killer. Though I may keep it in an old peanut butter jar for observation prior to execution.

Otherwise, I routinely rescue wolf spiders, wasps, and several species of beetle. Geckos are welcomed into my home to eat their fill.

What’s the most stairs have you ever climbed? Was it worth it?

248 steps straight to the top of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse–the one with the black and white stripes spiraled around it. I know, because I counted each step. It’s possible I’ve climbed higher but didn’t count. Or perhaps I miscounted.

There I go again: disclaimers.

Yes. It was absolutely worth it. I love The Outer Banks, and the view from the lighthouse is spectacular. I think I even spit from the top. This was not a recent event. And they frown heavily on spitting from the top. I rarely spit in public anymore.

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