G’day Helen, how about we begin with you telling me if it’s scones and tea or some other homemade delight you’ve whipped up for me today.
Me? Whip up a homemade delight? This is the writer who’s working on a book called “The Totally Rubbish Cookbook – for all those who hate cooking and are proud of it”!
Cookbooks, fiction, children’s stories? Such versatility! Shame that versatility doesn’t extend to scones!
Okay Helen, at home…
My mum says garden gnomes make a house a home! Are you loud and proud in your love of garden gnomes at home, a closet gnomer or with a strict ‘no gnomes’ policy at your place?
Every home should have a gnome. We had one that farted every time you walked past it.
(Oh I soooo did not expect that from a woman who reminds me of my granny! But I want one of those gnomes!)
What vegetable (or fruit) have you always wanted to grow at home?
Well I’m the sort of gardener who has tomatoes in with the lavender, and pumpkins crawling over the lawn, but I did have a thing about growing a dragon fruit cactus. It’s now taken over the back fence and I had six lovely red dragon fruits this year. Who’s a clever girl then?
(Clever? Perhaps if you’d whipped one up into something to eat.)
If I came to your home and looked in the refrigerator, what would I find?
I don’t think that would be a very good idea. Something may fall out onto your foot. Probably the green paw-paw I crammed in there yesterday.
If you sorted your wardrobe by colour, what colour would stand out? (Ahh, do you sort your wardrobe by colour?!)
Er, no, I sort by season. What colour? Hang on a minute while I check… oh dear, not good… it’s pinky/reddy/purple! Oh well, new season coming up. Maybe I’ll change to bluey/greeny/yellow.
What are you wearing now? (Be honest!)
Okay – honest – beige, and pinky/purple. *Sigh*
Whose home would you like to housesit and why?
Hmm. I guess you’re thinking I will choose a celebrity in a mansion overlooking the sea. ‘Fraid not. I would choose my friend’s small flat in Athens where I could ignore the housework.
Country curiosities…
We love a sunburnt country (slip, slop, slap and all that). What’s your ideal hat? Or are you a boots person?
I’m afraid I’m not a hat or boots person. However, living as I do in the Sunshine State, I have a sunhat which I wear outside when necessary. Unfortunately the cat slept on it so it looks a little bizarre. I really only wear sandals. I have two pairs, and a pair of sensible shoes for best, oh and my Titans mascot slippers – that’s the extent of my shoe wardrobe.
If you were a tree (or animal) what kind of tree (animal) would you be?
I’m sure my husband would tell you I would be a sloth, but I think I’d be a squirrel because I hoard everything. You should see my desk!
Now for the big question… Why did the chicken cross the road?
Ah! If he crossed the road to get to the other side, there must have been a good reason. I think it was because he saw a gorgeous, fluff-feathered hen, with a sexy double cluck!
About you…
Your turning point: when was that point in your life you realized being an author was no longer going to be just a dream but a reality and a career?
Seriously – I’ve written things all my life. I once wrote a pantomime for a dance company. I contributed a terrible sketch for a stage Revue. I devised a script adaptation of the lives of Gilbert and Sullivan through their music (actually staged). I wrote a column in an antique magazine about funny things that happened on the way to the Antique Fair, and another about the antique markets in London. I reviewed art exhibitions and edited a motor magazine. Stuff like that. But when we retired from our business, I was confronted with the horrible truth I would be home all day with nothing to do but the housework! Consequently I sat down and wrote my travel odyssey about Greece “Make Mine a Moussaka” and then went on to novels. Now I can’t stop…
(Mmm, yum, moussaka would’ve been nice.)
What is the hardest part of writing for you?
It’s the terrible ‘info dump.’ Being a Virgo I need to have everything set out and explained – so I am continually criticised for too much info gumpf.
(Ah, yes, a fellow Virgo. I hear ya, Helen.)
If someone was to write your biography, what do you think the title should be?
“Aphrodite in Disguise”
What question have you always wanted to be asked in an interview? How would you answer that question?
Q: “Now that you have reached 100,000 book sales, can I have your autograph?”
A: “Of course. Would you like it in black felt pen across your back?”
Fun stuff…
What does your protagonist think about you? Would he or she want to hang out with you, the author, his/her creator.
I don’t think any of my protagonists would want to hang out with me. For instance they wouldn’t know if I had a one of those pepper spray things in my bag (like Stephanie Plum) or whether I was toting something more lethal. They know only too well that I am able to kill them off willy-nilly. And as I’m somewhat ditzy, this could happen at any time.
If you could trade places with any other person for a week, famous or not famous, living or dead, real or fictional, with whom would it be?
I think it would be with the young Julie Andrews. I always wanted to sing Maria in the “Sound of Music.”
If I said to you, “Just entertain me for five minutes, I’m not going to talk,” what would you do?
(Please, please, please don’t say an impersonation Julie Andrews and the nuns singing ‘MARIA’.)
I would read you the sex scene from my latest novel “The Chocolate Affair.” That would keep you quiet. Hahaha.
(Oh, I didn’t expect that!)
What food would you be?
A huge chocolate mousse cake with chocolate sauce, icing and chocolate shavings, lathered with cream.
(Oh dear! This answer, following on from the sex scene above has me really scared.)
What was the best thing before sliced bread?
My grandmother’s jam sponge.
And in case you are wondering about when we first sliced bread…
In 1912, a jeweller named Otto Frederick Rohwedder began working on the world’s first bread slicer. Several years, and many unsuccessful models, later he devised a machine to slice bread AND also wrap it up to keep it from going stale.
Perfectly timed with the invention of the pop-up toaster, Rohwedder sold his slicing and wrapping machine to the Chillicothe Baking Company in 1928.
Name 5 uses for a stapler that has not staple pins.
My stapler never has pins! Useless thing! So there isn’t even one use for it, let alone 5!
How weird are you? Rate yourself on a scale of 1 (not) to 10 (very).
Pretty weird. Eight.
Delightfully weird, Helen, and hilarious. Thank you for joining Author Harvest.
How can people get their hands on your yummy new book (with THAT sex scene)?
It’s available on SMASHWORDS
For more information about Helen – novelist, travel writer, photographer (and talent clearly runs in the family – check out both following site. Highly recommended if, like me, you love everything Greek.
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Helen! How did you know that my secret dream is to write pantomimes!
Okay, it isn’t really, but it sounds more fascinating than a brochure for a cigarette butt bin, which is on my list of past achievements.
Fabulous interview, Helen and thanks for hosting, Jenn. It’s always fun and I never know who you will come up with next!
Helen, an apartment in Athens sounds wonderful. Actually an apartment just about anywhere different for a while would be marvellous. Lovely interview.
Helen, as a reluctant cook I love the sound of ‘The Totally Rubbish Cookbook’!
Loved the interview, Jenn, and your answers gave me a good early morning laugh, Helen – or should I say, Aphrodite! Checking out The Chocolate Affair now. Oh, and dragon fruit are my absolute fave fruit…good call!
Lovely interview! Helen, I’m envying you the dragonfruit. They look so gorgeous.
Ah the dragonfruit! Do you know I have to sneak up to the back fence to pick them. There are two large cranky dogs at the back and they hurl themselves at the fence every time I go near. I think the cactus is propping the fence up. I’m training it over the top and through a crack so that the thorns will cause them angst!
[…] need to talk to Helen Ellis (Author Harvest a couple of weeks ago). Just don’t ask Helen about her garden gnome… Really. […]