When plotting a new story, one fun way for an author to genuinely get to know their characters is to interview them. It’s a method I’ve employed in the past and have wholly enjoyed. Check out my prior interviews here for Jake, and here for Eden.
The subject for my interview today is Johnny Blake, an ‘ordinary hero’ from my debut romantic suspense novel: Surrender at Canyon Road.
I meet Blake, as he likes to be called, at the site of his latest home renovation. He’s dressed in rather impressively fitted carpenter jeans, a crisp black tee and an open denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal sigh-worthy forearms. I can’t see his hands because of his work gloves, but those gloves are quite large, as is the man who I have to crane my neck to see clearly. His tool belt looks like it weighs more than I do.
I approach him and he greets me with a most endearing smile that creates adorable little crinkles around his compellingly clear blue eyes.
It’s hot outside so he invites me in, proudly informing me the electricity is now on in this reno and the A/C is aces. Once inside, he gestures to a step stool in a corner, and I sit on it since it’s the only seat available in the as-yet unfurnished, unpainted space. He asks whether I mind if he works while we talk and I assure him I don’t. I mean. We’ve only just met but I can see how watching him work would be a wondrous bonus to this interview.
I take out my pen and notepad, then watch as he runs a palm over a wall with two windows, inspecting the surface as he does. He checks another area of the wall where there are patches of what I assume is Spackle.
Tell me something about yourself.
I’ve been flipping houses for a living for more than a decade. I take old structures like this one down to their bones, and then I build them back up in a way that honors their history but in a more functional and contemporary way.
He opens a can of primer. Stirs it. Then hauls over a massive ladder as if it weighs little more than a newborn.
Other than that, I have a sister I helped raise and a young nephew who both own big chunks of my heart. I’d do anything for those two. My brother-in-law is…well…
I pause in my note-taking and watch as a whole range of emotions contort his face – disgust, anger, concern, resolve. His fury with the man is evident but his control over that fury is super sexy.
Let’s just say he was my business partner years ago. Thankfully not anymore, and his son, my nephew, adores him. My sister has finally seen the light, so he’ll be out of the picture soon. Sooner if I have my way.
It sounds like a very complicated sore spot, so I put the topic aside. For now.
Can you tell me about your greatest fear?
My greatest fear? That one day, when I’m needed the most, I’ll find out I’ve exhausted Lady Luck’s patience.
Have you told that to anyone?
He stops priming the wall, and turns to study me almost as intensely as he’d inspected the wall.
Why would I tell that to anyone? It would put a burden on them they don’t need.
Do you think you’re the only one who can shoulder life’s burdens?
He smiles that smile again, then turns back to his painting.
You sound like Dani. No. I don’t have a hero complex and I don’t think I’m the only one who can shoulder life’s burdens. I just think if I can, why shouldn’t I?
Since he mentioned her, I ask him about Dani, reminding him I’ll be interviewing her next.
He nods as he paints, without glancing my way, as though he’s sizing Dani up in his mind before speaking about her.
I’m surprised she agreed to talk to you. If you want my advice, I’d say don’t push her for any answers. Let her talk to you on her terms and in her way. She’s been through a lot and has some impressive grit and staying power but…
He does stop painting then, and when he looks my way, there’s a spark of intensity in his eyes, and I realize I’m seeing the protector…the hero.
Just don’t push her. She wouldn’t like that.
Can she not handle the pressure?
The intensity in his warning glare ebbs a bit.
She can handle it all right. I’m convinced she can handle more than most. She shouldn’t have to, but she can. And has.
He studies me a moment longer before turning back to his work.
I’m not sure you can…and once you meet her, you’ll understand.
My first thought is, challenge accepted, but that thought is quickly banished by a flutter of trepidation.
Tell me about one person who made a positive difference in your life.
My sister. I was ten when she was born. Our dad was working two jobs and our mom was already caring for my grandparents so I did what I could to pick up the slack. She’s a great kid, and as she grew up and started noticing pieces of the world around her, it forced me to slow down and notice it all with her. From then on, I did what I could to keep the wonder in her eyes. Then I introduced her to Chuck and the rest, well, the rest didn’t go so well. For any of us.
His cryptic reply segues naturally into my next question.
Do you have a secret? If so, why do you feel the need to keep it secret?
A secret? Nah. Who has time for secrets? I mean… I don’t think I have any except for…well…no. Never mind. My disgust for my brother-in-law—who rightfully deserves it for what’s he’s done—isn’t a secret. If you knew him, you’d feel the same way. I’m sure.
He’s focused now on his handiwork, carefully priming around the A/C unit in the wall without getting a spec of paint on it, and I realize he hasn’t even used painter’s tape, his hand is that sure.
Where do you go when you need time to yourself?
Time to myself? I’ll have plenty of that when I’m in the grave, won’t I? I mean, I’d rather spend any free time I have with my family, you know, the people who matter most. They’re welcome to come with me wherever I go.
What is your fondest childhood memory?
There was one summer when I was about 14 where all the stars seemed to align and we were able to take a family vacation, all of us. My sister and I, our parents and grandparents. We were at Hershey Park in Pennsylvania. It was hot and muggy and then like a curtain dropped, the sun was gone and the rain came in torrents. Even if we ran for it, which we couldn’t because my grandparents didn’t have the strength or stamina, we would have been soaked. So we stood there, all of us, even my kid sister, laughing as our hair, clothes and ice cream cones sagged under the weight of the water. Sometimes, you just have to laugh, right?
He continues painting, moving the ladder to get to a new spot, then chuckles a bit to himself, and it’s a warm honest sound. I inquire whether he’s seeing the scene play again in his mind or if something else is amusing him.
It’s the sound…
He chuckles a bit again, and this time, I find myself smiling with him. Then he sobers a bit but not much.
The squeak and squish of wet shoes. From the six of us. Every step we took sounded like a chorus of squeak toys. Maggie, my sister, burst into giggles, setting off the rest of us until our faces hurt from laughing so much.
I’ll make memories like that for my own kids some day.
He’s still smiling as he climbs down from the ladder and moves it to another spot. I realize how dedicated and focused he is but not at the expense of fun and laughter, like he’s somehow managed to sort all of life’s ups and downs in a way that brings balance. Well. Maybe not all. There is still some obviously burdensome issue with his brother-in-law that haunts him. My intention was to circle back to that but his mood is so light and…real…that I don’t want to be the one to bring him down. I thank him for his time and he climbs down from the ladder again to walk me out and see me off, noting I need air in the rear passenger’s side tire. I thank him and enjoy the view through my rear view mirror as he turns to walk back into the house.
Blake has intrigued me. I feel his strength and his compassion – both of which seem to come in equal parts with each supporting the other as the need arises. It makes him more of a complex man than he at first appears to be. That makes me even more curious and more eager to meet Dani, a woman who has clearly impressed this impressive man. You can find her interview HERE.
