Crooked Fang: Music, Sweet Music

Looks like I'm in the place to be interviewing people and paper-people, or vamps these days. Err, nights. Anyway Severin, a vampire from What Sweet Music They Make, (written by Nerine Dorman) stopped by for a little talk and laid some truths on me. Check it out:

XM: What sweet music they make…sounds familiar. Where’s the title from?

S: The author’s a bit hung up about vampires (in case you hadn’t noticed) but she thought it would be cool to make a nod toward the old classic by Bram Stoker. Of course it’s a direct reference to the shit that goes down in the novella, which should keep music buffs interested.

XM: I heard you play guitar. What part does that play in your book?

S: I mainly play my twelve-string guitar when I perform—it has a natural chorus effect with a richer sound—and in a way I’d say it’s almost my defense mechanism. There aren’t that many vampires in Cape Town who’re into the same music I like, so I kinda have to be a one-man band. When I’m out in public, I’ve always got the guitar.

It’s a great distraction from people asking too many questions. They focus on my role as musician, where I’ve got an excuse to be “that odd kid” as opposed to “Oh my god he looks weird. What’s wrong with him?” It doesn’t always work in my favor, as the owner of the building where I live runs a club downstairs, and he thinks I’m some sort of pet performer. But I’m sure you’d agree that a guitar is a chick-magnet.

XM: Are you a typical creepy bloodsucker? Have any special powers?

S: Typical? Fuck no. If you want to see creepy, you gotta check out some of the other vampires in the city. They’re so fucked in the head after centuries. Some of them have been stuck in Cape Town since the days of the first Dutch settlers. And it’s rumored that some arrived even before then. You don’t want to run into them. Luckily they pretty much keep to themselves.

Our only special powers, as such, occur when we drink blood. We can tap into our victims’ memories. Some of us feed on happiness, others sorrow. But if one drinks of one person too long, they become emotionless. I’m not sure how or why it works. The older vamps don’t really tell us youngsters much.

XM: How old are you, speaking in vamp years plus your sunshine years?

S: Let’s just say David Bowie, Bauhaus and Siouxsie and the Banshees were very popular when I was turned in my late teens. It kinda sucks, ’cos I’ll always look like a scrawny kid. On the plus side, I never did have to go to the army, like so many of my mates. Now that was kinda fucked up with all the political shit going down in South Africa during the 1980s. Kinda weird sometimes when I’ve wondered about some of my mates from school. I’m sure some of them have kids that are my apparent age.

XM: Tell me about Tersia. How is she different than the casket kids you have back at the nest?

S: Oh, she’s… She’s just something else. Very gentle soul with so much love. I can’t believe her ex was such a dick to her. I wouldn’t mess her around. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her. And when she picks up that violin, and plays, it’s like the world around you stops existing. It’s absolute magic. You know what they say sometimes you look across a room and you just know that someone is irresistible? It’s that whole stupid moth-to-the-flame business. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s a kind of magic.

XM: What kind of reader would enjoy What Sweet Music They Make?

S: That’s difficult to answer, but I’d say that if you like Anne Rice, and hell, even JR Ward. Perhaps Storm Constantine too, while we’re at it, or if you’ve role-played the old White Wolf Vampire: The Masquerade, you’ll enjoy What Sweet Music They Make. It’s got a little bit of romance, a dash of mystery and a whiff of magic, and should appeal to those who love music.

Quick shots-

Favorite color:

Black, of course. That way the blood stains don’t show up.

Favorite music artist:

David Bowie.

Favorite decade:

No time like the present. I don’t want to end up like those old vampires who keep bitching about stuff that happened two hundred years ago, and complain about people no one knows, and who have probably been dead for a few hundred years too.

Chocolate or vanilla?

I used to like both, before I turned.

Weirdest thing you ever saw:

Me and some buddies were driving home one night—this is before I got turned, mind you. We were so drunk I don’t know how we managed to keep the car on the road. We saw this huge piece of black plastic on the side of the road and the way it was positioned looked like a body was wrapped in it. Fuck, it must have been about 3am but we stopped the car and went to take a closer look. Even up close it looked like some dead guy in plastic. Eventually I plucked up enough courage to kick it, expecting a horrible, meaty thud. Only the plastic just drifted off. We all screamed like little girls ’cos there was no body. I’m not sure what we would have done if it had been a body, but it was still pretty freaky.

Dude, thanks for dropping by and good luck with that book, for reals.