Indie Author Week - Raye Wagner

Our Spotlight on YA Mythology passes to Raye Wagner, author of  

Origin of the Sphinx. This is a novella detailing the story leading up to the creation of the mythological creature, the Sphinx. It is the beginning of the Sphinx series.

Raye has spent half her life immersed in books (reading not swimming), but stopped believing she could write fiction after the sixth grade. Her teacher thought her writing was “disturbed”, and at a parent-teacher conference, asked her mother to seek counseling for her. 

Years later, with both Bachelors and Masters degrees in nursing, Raye reduced her practice to be at home with her family. Her children would say she read more, which is probably be true. One afternoon, as she sat out on the patio watching her boys play in the kiddie pool, inspiration struck, and she began recording the legend behind the Greek myth of the Sphinx. Raye lives in Middle Tennessee with her husband, a pair of kids she claims as her own, and a dog named George. Origin of the Sphinx is her first publication, and the beginning of the Sphinx series. Incidentally, she didn’t get counseling all those years ago. She might still need it.

"The gods are powerful, and their knowledge is vast. 

But the gods… 

The gods are far from perfect."

In Ancient Greece, the invocation "May the Gods watch over you" was more than a spoken blessing. It was an entreaty for divine benevolence. When Damon sees a beautiful woman alone, far from civilization, he can’t help but be drawn to her. But his life–as it should have been– is altered and twisted by the immortal touch of deity. Damon’s daughter, Phoibe, is raised to be wary and distrustful of the gods. And so she must choose– If Phoibe marries a mortal, she risks eternal solitude for a moment of love. 

"If she follows her heart, she risks spurning a god." 

Hi Raye and welcome to the Spotlight! Can you tell us your main inspiration behind this novel?

When I was in college an acquaintance of mine painted a picture of the Sphinx sitting on a mountain overlooking the city of Thebes. Up until then the only Sphinx I knew of was the one in Egypt. I have a print of that picture hung in my house, but it was just art…very good art, but still just a print. 

After reading a Greek Mythology novel that portrayed the Sphinx as a game-show host, I was convinced that the beautiful creature that hung on my wall had a better story. I had no idea what it was, but it had to be better than a game show host (no offence Mr. Riordan). Not too long after, I was sitting outside on the porch swing while my boys played in the kiddie pool, and a plot dropped into my head. I knew who the Sphinx was, why she was in Egyptian, Greek, and Asian mythology, and her story… Her story was fantastic.

Was self-publishing your first choice? What was the most nerve wracking part of the process?

I had no intention of self-publishing. I finished the first book in my series, Curse of the Sphinx, and was so proud of the completed volume. It was over 180,000 words. I couldn’t even get an agent to respond to my query, let alone look at it. After many revisions, I decided to take the last third of the book and add it to the next (making a series instead of a trilogy). I sent out several more queries, and an agent advised me to cut the story down further to the range of 95-105K words. Inspiration struck, and I decided that the backstory of how the Sphinx came to be could be pulled out of the novel and possibly be a future novella. I told the agent this, and she asked to read it. She loved it, and recommended that I publish the novella to establish my presence as an author. She also encouraged me to get on social media (I had previously been FB abstinent), and to create a web presence. It has been a whirlwind of activity, and I’ve been a nervous wreck the whole time.

As a self-published author, did you choose to edit your novel yourself? What was the biggest change you made to the story and/or characters?

I did edit my book myself, several times. But I also believe in nepotism, so I had my brother, a high school English teacher, proofread and edit it. I still had to pay him…so much for nepotism. The entire novella, Origin of the Sphinx, was a change from what I had originally planned and written. When I decided to move forward on the suggestion of a novella, I wanted to be sure to paint that the story contained within Origin of the Sphinx was really only a sliver of a much bigger story. I added a prologue and epilogue to the 17,000 words I took from the novel, and tried to tie them together so that the novella could stand on it’s own, but could also be seen as a prequel to the novel.

Do you have any unusual writing habits that aide your process and/or character development?

In regards to writing…Once I’m “in” my character’s head, immersed in their story, I can write anywhere (while my boys are taking taekwondo, in an exam room of a doctor’s office, out to dinner with family-BTW, not so good for relationships). I’ve learned that when inspiration strikes, I better write it down. I once called my husband to take notes while I was driving, so I wouldn’t forget. Also, I tend to get my best inspiration while I am in the shower. Plot holes get filled, connections between characters are solidified, and conversations unfold, all while I am washing my hair. Sometimes, writing feels like work, and sometimes it is pure joy.

Is there one passage or scene from your novel that you are most fond of? 

My favorite excerpt from Origin of the Sphinx? I love Apollo’s introduction into the story…

Phoibe was walking in the field behind Priska’s home. If truth were told, she was supposed to be looking for a lost pig. Phoibe and Priska did not do much farming; most of what they had, they earned in exchange for Phoibe’s milling and Priska’s weaving and healing. The pig had been given as payment, and Phoibe had been directed to retrieve the animal.

Despite this, Phoibe’s ambling was not terribly focused. The sun was shining, the air was warm, and there was the faint smell of honeysuckle in the field. Phoibe spun around drinking in the blue sky and the wildflowers, and then came to a sudden stop.

Directly in front of her was a man holding her pig. She blinked to see if the vision would go away, certain he hadn’t been there the moment before. When she opened her eyes, the man was smiling, as if enjoying a private joke. It was impossible not to notice how striking he was. The sun sparkled off his skin, and he practically glowed. His eyes and hair were the color of pale honey, and his chiseled features made Phoibe think of the sculptures artisans brought to the market to trade.

“Phoibe, daughter of Hera.”

The surprise of seeing someone suddenly appear and call her by name was unsettling.

“I believe you have my pig, sir,” her voice was brusque with shock. Phoibe stepped forward to retrieve the animal from his arms.

“Oh, no,” he laughed, “I have already offended you? I so wanted to make a good first impression.” He looked briefly penitent, and then laughed again.

He handed her the pig, which, although it was heavy, was no significant weight for her to carry. It was, however, awkward, and she thought about her options before setting it down.

“What?” He looked at her with surprise. “Are you going to make me catch that smelly creature again?”

“No. I’m going to take him home. He’ll follow me.” She turned to leave, but his voice pulled her back.

“Yes. I bet he will. I’d happily follow you anywhere, too, Phoibe.”

She spun around. “Excuse me. Do I know you?” She scrutinized the man. Unable to identify him, she continued, “Is there a reason you are being so…” Phoibe struggled.

“Flirtatious?” He attempted to fill in the blank.

“Obnoxious!” She was practically glaring at him.

He laughed and drew close to her. Inexplicably her heart rate picked up.

“I’m Apollo.” His eyes grazed over her slowly, and Phoibe felt self-conscious in her faded peplos. He looked her in the eye. “I’m allowed to cause a little disquiet, because I’m usually so charming.” The smile was practically blinding.

“Really?” Phoibe’s surprise was nothing compared to the upset of her emotions. She let the irritation at his presumptuousness seep into her voice. “I’m not really seeing that.” She turned and walked back towards the house, her heart racing.

“But you will,” he replied. The voice was practically a whisper, but Phoibe could hear the promise. Phoibe turned to look back at the man, but he was gone.

Thanks so much for sharing this with us and talking a bit about the birth of your novel! I just adore mythology based stories and cannot wait to give Origin of the Sphinx a read. 

You can purchase your own copy of Origin of the Sphinx from

AMAZON

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