Guest Authors

Interview with Theo Von Cezar, Author of Godonism & 10 Copies of Godonism Giveaway!

Godonism

Synopsis of Godonism:
Ahma and Jovian, two eighteen years old boys, has just been given the sack from Windmill Plant – an electricity generating company. They don’t have too many options left since the present economy (it is the year 159 of Nebula Era) can no longer sustain a population of fifty billions people. While roaming the streets of Nebula City, the boys are presented a choice by a guardian angel whom they meet in a building called ‘The Church of Nonbelievers.’ As long as they follow the instructions strictly and do not deviate from the plan, everything is going to be fine, she says, otherwise they will meet death or beggary. All they have to do is deliver tickets to Hereafter One and tickets to Hereafter Two. The sinners, when the time has come will be granted eternal life in Hereafter. For every ticket sold, Ahma and Jovian will receive fifty thousand golden bucklers.
Things go as planned for almost two years. Then a revolt of all beggars erupts in Nebula City. This coincides with the elections for the mayor of Nebula City, which turns out to be a fierce battle in which the chief off all beggars also competes.
It will not take too much time for the anarchy to spread throughout the entire city.’Godonism,’ a dystopian science fiction novel alluding to the roots of atheism in literature, brings novelty to the realm of fiction, taking the reader on an unexpected futuristic journey in a world where the dominant rulers are mighty time and the earthly anarchy.
What other people say about the book:
‘Godonism’ by Theo Von Cezar, asks a lot from the reader. It’s enjoyable, but you will need to really keep an open but focused mind while reading. I thought reading Cloud Atlas was difficult, but trying to understand this book was tough too. A.J Raven
Godonism by Theo von Cezar is a dystopian science fiction novel. The story follows two friends Amha and Jovian who start the book together then go their separate ways. The chapters alternate between the characters and their adventures. Both are non-believers who end up agreeing to sell tickets to the Hereafter for the religious community. Sinners offered salvation with a purchase. The society on the whole would be one that would make the likes of J.G. Ballard proud. There is a chaos, but really more of an absurdness that runs through the story. Joe Spuckler – AuthorAlliance
Excerpt
After having looked in vain for the translucent neohorse, Jovian sat down on a bench with polyurethane seat and wooden backrest. He was quite familiar with this spot—he and his friend, Ahma used to spend time sitting on this bench, watching people passing by while speculating about their past and future.
As soon as he occupied his place on the settee, an ebullient sound, as if a string of pearls had been disbanded into a crystal bowl, came from nearby. Jovian turned and saw a bird—its facial features resembling Sardine’s—devoured by fog. The bird was obese and stood perched on a convoluted branch that belonged to an old linden tree completely deprived of its lofty robe. The trees had always been silent, and now were silently bearing their forthcoming deaths, with so much stoicism and dignity, relying only on their taboo spirits.  It was the nothingness towards which they always marched. They were alive, but they did not have brains to interfere with their past. They were supposed to feel no pain; they were the lucky ones.
An outsider—that’s how Jovian felt now, sitting on that bench, alone.  It now seemed that the pompous funeral and the splendid neohorse had been part of a fairy tale, which had taken place only in his brain. Perhaps he had lost interest in his own mind—a direct link with his past thus cut off. He felt as if ‘others’ had long ago—even before he had been born—decided his fate in advance. An entire bazar of thoughts were about to set his mind on a new track when the obese bird started calling out:
“Wake up! Wake up! Your friend is in danger. He is on Nebula Express now. Wait for Alzegotha…”
Before Jovian had any chance to address the bird, the latter sluggishly took flight. Suddenly, as if entangled in a pre-established ritual, a colossal bundle of candent rays hopped in front of him, and then moving towards a wall of mist, cut through it like a laser sword in a vacuum space, a variety of corridors between the walls of fog thus quickly formed. Jovian had no intention of disturbing that kind of spectacle. A twisty lane, illuminated by the sun, had opened up before his eyes; he felt embraced by watery-like twisted arms. At this point a sharp cry debouched from high above and Jovian was able to see a bird helicoidally surfing in the sky. Then another cry emerged, at the same time a congested cloud becoming two convoluted halves. The bird soared aloft, engaging in the most surreal glide; it made five more elongated circles, and started diving lower and lower in the sky until it disappeared behind a bombastic cloud, three seconds latter reemerging from the opposite side. Having released two high-pitched cries, the bird plunged quickly into the jammed fascicle of the abundant light sent forth by a diamantine sun. It had the appearance of an iron mantle that was being greedily aspired towards the ground.
It took only three seconds and the bird lay inertly at Jovian’s feet, a reflection of a candent ray deeply ingrained into the crystal of its reflective eye. Its face resembled Ahma’s face, around its neck a silver chain with a watch on end. It was Ahma’s pocket watch. THE PRESENT IS THE FUTURE OF THE PAST, stood written on the face of the timepiece. As Jovian looked perplexed at the inert bird a tuneful melancholic sound emerged in the air. For a fraction of a second he had the impression that the bird was going to rise up and eagerly take flight; but this was just a trick happening in his mind — it was the gravity’s deceptive and unkind post-mortem feedback.
Overwhelmed by an enormous sorrow, Jovian bent down, and stretched his arms forward; he was ready to pick up the lifeless body, when he heard the noise made by heavy coffins treading on the wet cobblestone. Jovian discerned an elongated head covered in glowing white satin. Two feet in front of him stood a remarkable translucent neohorse. It was the same powerful stallion that had helped him to escape the tomb. The animal, having released an excruciating neigh, tossed his head about and shook his long gray mane, his muscles exerted to extreme.
“Son, I wouldn’t touch that bird,” said a voice in a cryptic tone.
Jovian took a step back; he was now able to distinguish a rig to which the neohorse was harnessed and two lit hearse lamps with stars embedded on the glass.
The translucent neohorse panted loudly, purple blood around its distended nostrils.
Jovian could smell the hot air forced out of its lungs; it felt as if the animal had ingested fresh green grass. Then the neohorse started snorting and raking the ground with his enormous hairy hooves, silvery and whitish sparks gushing into the lugubrious atmosphere. This produced quite a stir; a different gang of sharp-toothed birds started to release crafty ‘caws’. They had taken flight from a nearby skeletal tree and now adorned the margins of the golden rig.
“Go away you greedy monsters! The time has not yet come!  I say obey!” yelled the same voice, whereat the birds took flight at once.
“Who spoke?” Jovian timorously asked.
“I spoke, and I’m speaking from the truth.” This time the voice resonated glamorously as if from behind.
The door from the left side of the rig opened. The metallic sound produced by steely heels thumping on the gold-plated stairs of the rig gave Jovian frissons. He distinguished a pair of varnished black and white shoes and a long silvery cloak, everything else enshrouded in the lascivious arms of the ambulatory fog. The pair of legs proceeded slowly onwards, extricating from the mist, the silver cloak sweeping at the dank cobblestone.
“Any volunteer for a new experiment? It is called, ‘The New Since of the Mind,’ or ‘ReligoScience,’ and it extends beyond our lives,” said the man whose face was covered by a white Bauta mask.
“You are the boy with the tickets, aren’t you? I mean one of them,” the man added in a melodramatic tone and started patting the restless neohorse on his enlarged forehead. “Easy boy, easy,” he said in a hoarse voice, passing his left gloved hand over the translucent neohorse’s abdomen. The animal’s inquietude suddenly ceased. He now stood silent, like a gigantic well-crafted lamb, steams coming out of his translucent skin.
Jovian remained silent.
“The boy with the tickets! Well, well, well… Here you are!  What a remarkable coincidence!  Don’t you think so, kid?  Or is it that we were meant to meet each other at one point in our lives?  I am wondering where your friend, the Philosopher, might be right now. Actually it was him I wanted to meet first. I wanted to have a Déjà vu with him since he so much needed it. Or maybe his thought reader is in full function now.”
“Ahma… Do you know him?”
“Let’s say I’m in the possession of a 3rd level thought reader. Ha! Ha! Of course I know your friend! I know everyone and everything! Every mind in Nebula City is under close surveillance,” said the stranger and ceremoniously took off his black tricorn. Then he started neatly grooming his jet-black hair.
He seemed to have descended from another planet, his opulent clothes belonging to a long-forgotten era. His hands were covered by rutilant gloves, his neck hidden by an embroidered scarf. The man rested on a silver scepter encrusted with plenty of differently shaped gemstones and headed by a non-terrestrial being’s head. On top of it stood a ‘G’ made of silver.
Jovian disentangled himself from the awestruck state and mumbled, “Who are you?”
The stranger drew his head backwards and theatrically engaged in a string of morbid exhalations. “Ha! ha! ha! ha!  Haaaa! ha! ha! ha!” The direful laughter scraped at Jovian’s eardrums. “Who am I? I am…  Well, aren’t we all supposed to be just pawns in a highly engineered game? I am the boss of the Pawn Factory, for God’s sake, and I’m a collector, and a believer-philosopher. But first… first of all, I’m an avid collector of all, the monumental and less monumental thoughts, even the refurbished ones. Yes, even the most egocentric thoughts and other sorts I want to possess, and—if needed—to refurbish and preserve them all. For, every grand thought one possesses and processes, the more power are they allowed to accumulate.  And that is what I’m presently looking for.”
Jovian remained speechless. If the stranger’s apparel resembled the clothes of a forgotten era, his mind certainly resembled that of a future one.
Who’s this? Jovian asked himself, then aloud, independently of his will, “Perhaps another madman of our times?” He was surprised by the brassy tonality his own voice had acquired.
At this point, the incarcerating fog seemed to set back.
“Too many questions, kid, even if some only spoken in your mind. Your curiosity seems to expand forever, and I bet your imagination does the same. And that’s a very profitable act; it can work for you, or it can work—like measurable time often does—against you. Your mistake is that you want to know too much at once. Patience son, and you’ll find some answers.
“No, kid, I’m not a madman, neither of the past nor of future times. If my answers have not satisfied you yet, then who am I, again?  Besides being a mortal being that happens to interfere mostly with the past—especially the past of other human minds—believe me, or do not… Am I what other cravers want?
“And now, before we go any further into the labyrinthine depths of our minds, I want to make a deal with you. I want to buy some precious goodies, from you. I’ve heard that you might have some available thoughts for sale, my son.”
“My thoughts are not for sale, sir” Jovian said self-assuredly. “You can have some for free though—those that I want to share with you.”
“You don’t understand, kid. I want them all be mine… for good. I want them to become part of my mind, permanently jammed into my brain, like precious lilies-of-the-valley budding into the most shining pearls. I want them in life, and I want them eternally in death, interfering with the other many thoughts I have collected with such great efforts. I’m willing to pay a good price for that. Not in gold, don’t worry, for the gold is down now. Silver bucklers. Silver is our earthly king now… What do you think, kid? Can we strike a deal?”
“As I’ve just said, sir, my thoughts are not for sale.”

 

TheoVonCezar
Theo, Keep Calm & Answer These 25 Questions 
  1. Do you consider yourself a logophile? If so, have you always been?  First, what is a logophile?  Yeah, I’m definitely a lover of words since I deal with them a lot, especially when I write. I work with a lot of online dictionaries as English is my second language. I used to have quite a large and thick dictionary for some time, but that happened mostly when I read. I haven’t always been a logophile. For a large period of my life I haven’t even touched a book. Well, maybe only touched it, but not doing anything with it besides that. So, if you’re a writer you have to be a logophile. Of course, the process of writing involves more than that. The imagination precedes writing but I suppose that is something you are born with.
  2. What is your favorite color? Dark blue. Why? Because it has to do a lot with the sky at night. I see blue color as the universal color of the Universe. I also like black, but that is not a color.
  3. Where were you born? In a Romanian mountain village. Translated would be… Eagle’s Stone. Magic, huh?
  4. What is your favorite football team? I don’t have one.
  5. Who is your favorite author? There are many and those I really like are all dead, unfortunately. One of them is George Orwell. That guy knew very well the craft of writing, which he based mostly on his experiences. I have a great deal of respect for him. He wrote under any circumstances which I must admit I can’t.
  6. What is your favorite book? Again, there are many. One of them is ‘Voyage of the Beagle’ by Charles Darwin. There is science, history, literature, adventure… all in one. Darwin was not only a great scientist and writer but also a kindred spirit. His books prove that.
  7. What do you do when you are not writing? Besides thinking? Walking… Going to the mountains… Watching the sky at night… Finally, I’ll have to get a telescope so I can explore the sky in depth. You can’t see Nebulas with the open eye.
  8. Do you have a day job as well? Luckily I got one… I drive a van.
  9. Do you have any advice for aspiring authors? Be one with the Universe. Follow your own path. Look at what’s happening around you with an open mind and inquisitive eyes.
  10. Is being a writer a curse or a gift? I think it’s neither one. It depends on how you look at it and how much you get involved in it. I wouldn’t lean onto the gift theory because gifts mean something received from someone. I can’t see anyone powerful enough to be able to giveaway such a gift. From that point you’re on your own. And a curse… I don’t know, do witches exist anymore?
  11. Where do you write? At a desk, at home, mostly day time.
  12. Do you prefer silence or some noise while you write? Silence all the time. I like to hear the sound made by the arms of the clock moving on, yet standing still. It’s like time takes a break in those moments. I also like hearing things in my head first. The voices of the characters to whom I’m giving life. The sound of the wind… The sound of coffins treading on the asphalt. No, that doesn’t happen to me all the time.
  13. What do you typically drink while writing? Usually a cup of hot tea sweetened with two spoons of sugar. Honey is even better.
  14. What challenges have you had in regards to your writing life? Many… The biggest one was when I quit my job and started writing. It was almost spontaneous. I was aware the risks involved. Then, another challenge was when I had to get back and find a job after many years of writing spent mostly thinking. It’s like returning from the Moon back to Earth, I suppose.
  15. When did you first start and when did you finish your book? I started ‘Godonism’ in 2006 and finished it in 2010. But, I, still to these days, feel like I’ve never finished it. As if I have to write this book for the reminder of my life.
  16. If your book is made into a movie, which actors/actresses do you envision playing the parts? I think I’d pick up unknown people, maybe from the street… from a train… from a park.
  17. What does your protagonist think of you? Would he/she want to hang out with you? I think the characters in my book would hang out with me since I gave them life, but the protagonist is a totally different thing. Presumably, she/he will do so since I’d like to take part in the directing process. If they’d ever allowed me do that. Dreams…
  18. How do you market your book? What avenues work best? I try to stay away from the self-publicity as much as I can. As a self-published author one is entitled to market their projects but I think one has to be quite objective and that is rather difficult to be when you are the crafter of the book. It’s like selling a product, but since you put passion in creating it for me it’s like trying to sell my dreams.
  19. What has been the toughest criticism so far? The fact that I used adjective and adverbs too much. I eliminated a few hundreds so far and I suppose there is room for more. Criticism can be really constructive. It’s important to be able to take criticism.
  20. What has been the best compliment? Best compliment… Someone comparing my book to George Orwell’s ‘1984’. It’s a great honor since I consider Orwell being a great mentor for me, through his writing, of course.
  21. Is anything in your book based on real life experiences or purely all imagination? There are a lot of my own experiences in the book but also there are other people’s experiences. But above all stands the imagination.
  22. How did you come up with the title? The title suffered a few modifications as the entire book did. First it was named ‘Back to the Universe’, then ‘Thoughts and Instincts’. And then, while in London, ‘Godonism’ came suddenly to me. I think the title is quite suggestive. Since there are plenty of issues related to God in the book I thought God was the right word to begin with. The rest came naturally.
  23. Will there be a sequel? I thought about a sequel.. I even started something. But I stopped after two chapters. I realized that ‘Godonism’ is only one and has to be that way. Every beginning has and end, even if that means a new beginning.
  24. What project are you working on now? It’s happening only in my mind now. You see, I am at the stage where I work with my imagination. It happens a lot before I become a writing machine. Imagination always precede writing so…
  25. What question did I leave out that you’d like to answer? If I consider myself a writer. I don’t. An author, yes. A crafter of the hidden thoughts..

Please fill in the blank: Keep Calm and Write On

***********The first 10 people to answer the following question: If you were a writer, what would you call your first book? Will receive a copy of Godonism. Please include your email address (or send your email address to me at Feltenk@hotmail.com) and I’ll send you a copy.************ 

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6 Comments

  1. The Everyday Guide to Observing Zombies.
    Jennifer Showalter recently posted…News! Just finished Don’t Look Back… And wow!My Profile

  2. Science Fiction novels are always a great read. They seem to be making a comeback especially amongst young adults.

  3. Jenny, David, and Kristi, I hope that you enjoy your free copies!
    Kristy Feltenberger Gillespie recently posted…Andrew Joyce’s Redemption: The Further Adventures of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer is 99 cents until May 12th!My Profile

  4. Sounds like a not-light read, but sometimes it’s good to have a marathon for the brain, so I’ll add this to my list. Authors like this really fascinate me. I loved his response to be ‘one with the universe’

    Thanks for the interview and spotlight!
    Katie Cross recently posted…Writing About Witches in a Christian WorldMy Profile

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