Book Blather correspondant, Sue Roebuck, graciously agreed to share her interview with Marie Carhart. Thank you, Sue and Marie
Author
J.R. Egles is smiling on his sister
right now. From Heaven.
Please welcome
Marie
Carhart, who has done something very special for her
brother.
Sue: First of all Marie, many
congratulations on the publication of your book “The Kabrini Message”. I know you’re not
actually the author of the book, so could you give us some background to how
and why it was published?
Marie: As you know,
The Kabrini Message is a novel written
by my late brother,
Joe Egles, back in 1987. I only recently
discovered Joe’s manuscript (hand typed by our mother) in a box in my attic. It
was in a manilla envelope that just said, “Joe’s Book” in my mother’s
handwriting.
The whole “story-behind-the-story”
can be read on the two-part blog post I did, so I won’t repeat the entire thing
here.
But basically, after reading The Kabrini Message and becoming
entranced by it, I decided it must be published. This “message” just had to
make it out of the attic and into the hands of the public. I know everything
happens for a reason, when and how it’s supposed to. I believe my “message” in
finding this forgotten jewel was to get it out there and right now, twenty-six
years after it was written, just must be the right time.
I also had to make sure The Kabrini Message was finally
published as a gift to both my brother and our mother who always believed in
him.
I have been “on a mission”…yes, a
woman obsessed! But the journey has been a fun, fascinating and educational
labor of love and I am thrilled and so very grateful to say that as of January
18, 2013, more than a quarter of a century after it was written, The Kabrini Message is a published
novel!
Sue: That is fabulous. You must be
so proud (I am, I know that!) What’s your favorite genre in fiction? Apart
from The Kabrini Message can you recommend
any books for us?
Marie: You are probably expecting
me to say sci-fi, but no, that’s not it! The Kabrini Message is the first (and
only) sci-fi book I have ever read! I admit it may open up a whole new world
(literally!) to me now. Also, The Kabrini Message is not your typical
sci-fi book in that it has a strong action/adventure crossover and a strong
“message” of collective consciousness, which I am a big believer in, and it has
a lot of very funny parts, too.
However, back to your question…I
actually like romances. Especially historical fiction romances. My favorites
are Danielle Steel novels and my all time favorites of
hers are a couple of her older ones, No Greater Love, which
takes place on the Titanic and Granny Dan, set in Russia in 1902 revolving
around a young Russian ballerina and the Czar and Czarina and their family.
That one starts out in the present, after the main character’s death and
travels back in time as her granddaughter finds a box of old letters that tell
the tale of a whole exciting life she never knew her grandmother had. I also like
the Friday Night Knitting Club series of books by Kate
Jacobs and Star of Flint, written by Jill
Smith Entrekin, the mother of my friend Amy Entrekin
Bell.
Of course, my all time favorite
book will always be Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind.
Sue: I also know you love poetry.
Would you like to end with an inspirational poem that sums up “The Kabrini
Message” or life in general?
Marie: Just today I came across
this one. I think it sums up both The Kabrini Message and life in
general!
Somebody said
that it couldn't be done,
But, he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't" but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, as he did it.
Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you'll never do that;
At least no one we know has done it";
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he'd begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle right in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That cannot be done, and you'll do it
Sue: Thank you! I'd never heard
that before and it's terrific. Marie, what’s next in line in terms of
publication?
Marie: Well, as you mentioned, I
am not a writer, so personally, I have no plans for any further publications,
however, I am anxious for the print release of The Kabrini Message. Also, I have already had
readers ask about the possibility of a sequel. I’m not sure how that would
work, but you never know.
The storyline does lend itself
perfectly to one and I think Joe probably originally planned to write one.
Again, if it was meant to be, it will happen. My initial thought while I was
reading The Kabrini Message the first time (and
every time since) was that it would make a fabulous movie! So I think the next
big project is the screenplay. (You heard it here first!)
Hooray! A FIRST on my blog!!!!!
Marie: I’d like to thank you so
much for having me today, Susan, and for allowing me to tell our story. I hope
your readers will enjoy The Kabrini Messsage in the true spirit
of love from which it has come forth!
Blurb:
An alien race. A shocking message. Let
the evolution begin…
During an archaeological dig in Greece,
Jeffrey Driscoll stumbles upon a miraculous find: ancient crystals with
celestial coordinates that will connect humankind with the Kabrini, a highly
advanced alien civilization. His discovery leads him on a quest from the
jungles of Africa to the
Islands of Greece, from the streets of
London to the tombs of Egypt, from Washington D.C. to Los Angeles, Jamaica, and
Vienna, and finally to the deepest depths of space and Earth’s first global
space effort, the Legacy mission.
When Driscoll Mining and the U.S. Army
complete deep space construction of the Kabrini communications network, the
Legacy mission is deemed a success. But a dangerous terrorist group hungers for
revenge, and Driscoll will stop at nothing to save the project. As his
obsession with the Legacy mission spirals out of control, he risks losing
everything—his company, his grasp on reality, and the one thing he’s ever truly
loved: his wife. And when humankind finally makes contact, they discover the
Kabrini Message isn’t exactly what they expected to hear…
EXCERPT:
The fire in Professor Gregory’s study
burned low. Outside, it was just getting dark and the first drops of a
cold London rain splattered against the windows.
“Alrighty, then,” Gregory started as he
sat down behind his desk. “As you may know, the Romans had umpteen gods. So did
the Greeks. So what’s one more soothsayer? With a god for every occasion, they
were only being religious by convenience anyway. That’s why I never took this
damn thing so seriously in the first place.”
“Took what seriously?” asked
Driscoll. “The Romans…or the Greeks?”
“Neither,” said Gregory sounding
exasperated already. “I’m talking about the Oracle, the Oracle, you numpty.”
Gregory was clearly annoyed. He was
used to dealing with his razor-sharp archeology students, and they were used to
paying attention to details. Driscoll was not…at least, not to the point
required for Gregory’s complex explanation. Driscoll practiced what he liked to
call a holistic approach to life situations. In other words, he took in
the big picture and then did whatever was necessary to keep from getting
chucked out of it.
“The Oracle, right, at Delphi,” said
Driscoll. “You mentioned that on the phone. But what’s the fuss? It’s not news.
That’s where rich folks went for advice about the future, right? The place
where people went for prophecies…from priests or something.”
“But the Oracle wasn’t just a place,
like a fountain or a shrine,” corrected Gregory. “It was supposed to be a person, or
a deity, who only spoke through priests. The priests in turn doled out the
information to the faithful.”
“And by ‘faithful,’ you mean those who
could afford to pay,” said Driscoll.
“Well, yes,” agreed Gregory. “But my
point is, it couldn’t have been all rubbish or they wouldn’t have kept coming
back for advice. And they did…important people, like Caesars and such. There
must have been something to the Oracle’s prophecies.”
“Unless it was just fashionable,” said
Driscoll.
“Ah…wait, what?” stammered Gregory. Driscoll
had broken his train of thought, which stunned the professor into silence.
“This is what’s so difficult about talking to Driscoll,” thought
Gregory. He never knew when to expect an intelligent comment. This one had
caught him by surprise.
Driscoll kept talking as Gregory
struggled to regain his composure. “I mean, in those days, you couldn’t impress
your wealthy friends by buying a flat screen TV or a Ferrari—so you blew a load
on the Oracle to show off.”
Gregory was mildly shocked. “Has
money made Driscoll wise?” he wondered. “No, no, surely not.
It never works that way. But trust Driscoll to do everything ass-backwards,
including getting smart,” he thought.
“Precisely!” Gregory finally answered.
“And what do you suppose the priests did with all that wealth, mate?”
“I don’t know,” Driscoll responded as he
thoughtfully scratched the stubble on his cheek.
“Neither did anyone else,” Gregory said
with a slight leer in his eye. “Until now.”
Driscoll dropped his boots to the floor
and leaned forward on the leather couch. This had definitely piqued his
interest.
“Listen to this,” said Gregory, producing
a notebook from his jacket pocket. “This is an exact translation from a scroll
my colleague Jessup unearthed near Delphi.”
The professor flipped through the tattered
pages of his composition book and read aloud:
“‘I am an apprentice to a scribe.
But, by the time this is read, I will not only have been a scribe, but
will have been dead for some two thousand years.
However, due to my experience as
apprentice to Piros—scribe, scholar and personal acquaintance of the Great
Emperor Claudius—I have access to certain knowledge, which if I do not set
down, may be lost forever; unless the High Priests forsake their vows, which is
not likely.
But to share this knowledge in my own
time would certainly be the cause of my death. Therefore, I share it with
yours.’”
Gregory paused and glanced at Driscoll, who seemed to be
mulling over the words.
“So this guy has something important to
say, is that it?” Driscoll said sarcastically.
Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yes,
yes…brilliant. Now, listen to this part, mate,” he said. He
continued reading:
“‘In my time, I have no understanding
of what I have seen. Yet I hope the passage of many centuries may bring
wisdom to my words so that you, in your distant world, though you are standing
exactly where I am now, may read and understand.
For I have seen the Oracle at
Delphi. And It is not Human.’”
“Not human?!” Driscoll repeated. He was
leaning so far forward now, Gregory thought he might tumble off the couch.
“That’s what the bloody man says,” said
Gregory, “and he should know. He claims to have been there several times
and seen this Oracle thing twice. Once while it was reclining and going
about ‘business as usual’ with the High Priests, and once when it was being
carried out. During this second viewing, the scribe said the Oracle
didn’t look at all well. It might have been dying or perhaps already
dead, and the priests were taking the body to some secret burial place. Anyhow,
It was never brought back. Apparently, interest in Delphi seemed to wane
after that, at least among the big shots. For the Caesars and the like,
the Delphi prophesies seemed to have lost most of its punch. The priests
continued to sell prophesies, but more so to the public—at a cut rate, I
presume.”
“Discount prophecies,” Driscoll said with
a pensive grin. “Talk about bargain shopping.” He paused briefly to
take another sip of brandy. “Did he write anything else about the Oracle,
Itself?” he asked anxiously. He was already getting involved. “I mean,
did he say what it looked like?”
“Oh yes,” said Gregory with a smug
smile. He knew he had Driscoll now. “In fact, he was quite
descriptive. The scroll was very long . I only copied the first part, but
I read Jessup’s entire translated version. He said the Oracle’s
appearance was that of a boy with longish hair—except It had pale blue skin and
dark blue hair.”
“Holy shit…sounds like some kind of
freakish Smurf!” Driscoll said.
Gregory restrained from rolling his eyes
this time. “Also, Its eyes were clear, or maybe white. The
translation is not precise on that point.”
“Pretty strange, either way,” Driscoll
said, genuinely interested.
“Yes, and it gets even stranger,”
continued Gregory. “The scribe’s description was from that first
occasion, when the Oracle was reclining on a couch and being attended by the
priests. He said it appeared to be nude except for a thin, light blue
veil and—are you ready for this Driscoll?—It had the sexual organs of both male
and female!”
Driscoll said nothing. He just sat
on the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his empty glass
dangling from one hand.
Gregory stood up, stretched and walked
out from behind his desk. He leaned against the front of the desk and
said slowly, “Driscoll, I think that Oracle was an alien. Those High
Priests had found, and were keeping, a bloody alien!”
The rain tapped on the windows. The
darkness from outside seemed to crowd into the study, despite the blazing fire.
Driscoll slowly set his glass on the
coffee table and stared into it for a few moments. His mind raced back to
his boyhood bedroom. He recalled all those sleepless nights he’d gazed at
the stars through his homemade telescope as his drunken father raged downstairs.
Fast-forwarding to college, he remembered the countless hours he spent in the
Princeton observatory studying the infinite depths of space, examining each
pinprick of light. Every time he’d ever looked up at that endless vista,
he’d always had a feeling there was something—or someone—looking
back at him.
“Gregory…” Driscoll began stiffly.
For once, he was truly at a loss for words. “Gregory, are you…that is,
well…don’t you think you might be jumping to conclusions? I mean, isn’t
it more likely that that poor thing was the sad result of generations of
inbreeding or something? We know it went on all the time, back
then. Maybe that or some terrible disease or something…”
“Goddammit, I’m a scientist,
Driscoll!” Gregory interrupted. “I don’t jump to bloody conclusions.
It’s true, I don’t have any real proof, but that’s where you come in. And
anyway, there’s more. About the crash site.”
Oh, Marie, I love The Kabrini Message already. Come on
guys! Let's get the book (I'm off to Amazon immediately after I post.
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