Meet Evelyn Hernandez, protagonist of
The Dream Diaries by Philip Hoy
The Dream Diaries by Philip Hoy
How did you first meet your writer?
My writer
discovered me in a short story he wrote a few years ago. I think he sees a
little of his daughter in me when she was my age, and apparently, I remind him
of some of his students. He’s been teaching for a while though, so which ones
exactly, I’m not sure. He gets this knowing look on his face sometimes, which
really irritates me, like he already knows what I’m going to do or say before I
do or say it. So I admit, I sometimes do the opposite of what he expects…just
to remind him I’m my own person.
Did you ever think that your life
would end up being in a book?
Yeah, sure…I
just didn’t think anyone would want to read it.
What are your favorite scenes in
your book: the action, the dialog or the romance?
Really, my favorite
scenes are the dialog. I mean, yes, I like to kick ass sometimes, you know,
break things, but what’s so difficult about that? Besides, that’s the writer’s
job. The dialog, now that’s all me. Except most of time at school it seems like
I’m the only one talking, and even then it’s all in my mind, me talking to
myself in the privacy of my own head. Maybe that’s why when I do get to have an
intelligent conversation with someone I try not to think too much about, you
know, just keep it going, like the Gilmore
Girls, dialog that’s fast and smart. Am I making any sense?
Did you have a hard time convincing
your author to write any particular scenes for you?
To be
honest, I think the reason this second book is so fast paced, with so much
action, is that my writer is worried that Sammy and I are going to end up
having sex if he leaves us alone too much. No, really. I think the idea of me
having sex terrifies him more than it does me—it’s not like he has to actually
write those parts. And it wouldn’t be his decision anyway!
Do you like the way the book ended?
Hmm…good
question. You know, yes. I think I do.
Would you be interested in a sequel,
if your writer was so inclined?
Oh, yes.
Definitely. I’m only half way through my junior year of high school. I want to
keep going!
What is your least favorite
characteristic your writer has attributed to you?
He has me
cry too much. Not when I’m sad, but when I’m really frustrated or angry, or,
you know, terrified for my life. I’m not embarrassed to cry, but I hate it when
I do and I feel like I’m being manipulative—when I’m not!
What do you find most appealing in
men?
I like a man
who is strong, handsome, and smart…like my dad. I don’t mean strong, like
physically, although my dad is. He played football in high school and has his
own air-conditioning and heating business, so I guess his job can be
physical…but I mean strong, like reliable, gentle, self-confident. And smart, like
I can talk about anything with my dad, forever. Sammy is like that, strong and
smart…and handsome. My dad is dad-handsome, of course, but Sammy is delicious
handsome. When he’s walking toward me from the other end of the hallway at
school. When I just want to breathe him in sometimes, or touch him…with my
hands, yes, but even just to press the side of my arm, or leg against his when
we’re sitting together at lunch…that kind of handsome.
Do you believe in ghosts/evil
spirits/mysticism?
Is this a trick question? Okay, maybe you haven’t heard what people say
about me. That I’m a witch. That I can make bad things happen to people I don’t
like. Well…it’s kind of true. Does it have anything to do with ghosts or evil
spirits or mysticism? I honestly don’t know. A month ago I would have said I
believed in the power of the mind more than magic, that people believe what
they want to believe and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or does. A
month ago, I would have probably quoted from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it
so.” But lately, I’m not so sure. Maybe a better quote from Hamlet would be, “There are more things
in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Yes, I
think I’ll stick with that for now.
Would you ever use a voodoo doll
to hurt anyone?
I kind of already have, and more than once. Not with a doll exactly, but a
similar concept using paper and a pencil.
Evelyn, thank you so much for being patient and answering her questions today!! Please come back again soon !!
* * * * *
The Dream
Diaries
Evelyn
Hernandez Series, Book 2
Philip Hoy
Contemporary/Romance/Suspense/Interracial
(paranormal elements)
Evernight
Teen Publishing, Word count: 45K
The rumor at school is that after the
varsity quarterback broke her heart, Evelyn Hernandez broke his hand. Then she
demolished his car, beat up his girlfriend, and smashed all the windows in his
house—or so the story goes. Some say that under the long hair and blunt cut
bangs, beneath the cute dresses and colorful tights, and behind the pretty face
and big brown eyes … hides a black-hearted, spell-casting, evil witch.
Only Evelyn
doesn’t care what people at school say, or think. She couldn’t be happier. Her
bullies have been brought to justice, her parents trust her, and she has a boyfriend
who adores her. She’s even returned to drawing in her journal … but that’s when
the nightmares begin.
Evelyn
believes her violent dreams are messages from the future. Something terrible is
going to happen at her school and only she can stop it—but how, and at what
price?
16+ due to sexuality, language, and adult situations
Excerpt:
“I’ll
be right back,” Karen said over her shoulder as she stepped out into the cold
night. She set the bulging bag of trash down long enough to close the door
behind her and then hefted it again in both hands and began walking awkwardly
with it down the stairs. Her sandals slapped loudly against the bottoms of her
feet and the unwelcome odor of chicken bones and baby diapers wafted upwards
with each waddling step.
At the
bottom of the stairs, she stopped and looked around self-consciously, but the
apartment complex was strangely quiet this late in the evening, with most of
the windows around her already dark and not another person in sight. She
tightened her grip on the neck of the garbage bag and started walking again.
The dumpsters were just around the back of her building at the end of the
parking lot, but in the dim light of the yellow security lamps they looked much
farther. It was colder outside than she expected and Karen regretted not
putting on a sweater before leaving the apartment.
A brick wall
surrounded the trash bins with large metal gates in the front that were kept
locked, but there was a smaller walk-in opening around the back. What
if someone was in there, she thought, or something … doing who
knows what? Rather than step a foot inside, Karen was tempted to just
heave the bag over the wall and hope the lids were up. But the thought of her
nephew’s shitty diapers strewn across the parking lot, along with the junk mail
and old homework with her name on it, stopped her, and she took a breath and
walked inside.
She was
relieved to find the lid on the nearest bin was already thrown back, which
meant she wouldn’t have to touch anything. She lifted with one hand at the top
and the other pushing from below until the weight of the bag rested on the
dumpster’s edge, then she pushed it over and let it fall with a muffled splat.
When she
turned to leave, a figure was standing in the opening, blocking her way.
“Who’s
there?” she shouted, taking a step back.
“Hey, hey,”
the figure quickly reassured, slowly moving forward and lowering his raspy
voice as he spoke. “Don’t be ascared, girl. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
“Spider?”
Karen recognized his bug-eyed, boney face, but she hadn’t seen him at school in
over a year. She heard he was locked up.
“Orale!”
he said, looking back. “See, Creeper? I told you this heina was
down.”
A second
figure stepped out of the shadows behind Spider, filling the entryway and
smiling nervously at Karen.
“Hey,
Creeper,” Karen said, smiling and suddenly walking past Spider toward him. “Why
you up so late?” she asked, as if they were old friends. “Don’t you have
homework or something?”
Most likely
confused by the friendliness of her greeting, he shuffled back a step, clearing
the doorway just as Karen hoped he would, and she bolted for the opening.
Spider was
faster and grabbed her from behind. She tried to scream, but his hand was
already covering her mouth.
Author Bio:
Philip Hoy is a high school English
teacher by day and a short-story author, novelist, and poet by night. When he
is not creating lesson plans or grading essays, he is writing. He lives in
Southern California with his wife Magdalena, also a teacher.
Giveaway: $10 Evernight Teen gift card
Nice interview, Evelyn. Say, don't you have a final or something you should be studying for? Don't stay up too late. I'm serious.
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