I was interviewed this week by the Dread Pirate Roberts - no, that's not right. It's my OTHER favorite pirate -  Captain Jack Sparrow!!! I must say, it's one of the most unique transcripts I shall ever show you. Oh, and Sparrow? All those pesky "questions" about him? True. All true. He really is a cool chick novelist who lives in Nashvlle called CJ Redwine. Take that, Disney.

Ready? Steady... Go!

CJS: Would you classify yourself as a pirate or a member of Her Majesty’s Royal navy? Why?

JT: Pirate at heart, definitely, though many would assume otherwise. It’s the showering, don’t’cha know. Dreadlocks just don’t look good on me. And when no one’s looking, I like to admire myself in my cutlass. But on the outside, prim and proper, full to the brim with proper etiquette and gentle smiles.

CJS:  *admires self in cutlass* My apologies. Were you saying something? I got distracted by the shiny. What’s your favorite thing to do in Tortuga?

JT: See, there was this one time, in Tortuga, where we drank all the rum punch we could hold and might have made off with some guy’s yacht. Wait, that wasn’t Tortuga. That was freshman year of college. Crap. No wonder I did so poorly.

CJS:  As much as I admire the drinking of the rum punch and the absconding with someone's yacht, I find myself wanting to tie you to the yard arm so as to guard the fate of my own lovely vessel. I’m offering you free passage aboard my ship to anywhere in the world. Where shall we go, love?

JT: The Greek Iles, the Dalmatian Coast, Monaco, Venice, the Riviera, the Amalfi Coast, around Cape Horn, the Panama Canal, the Hebrides… think you’ve got enough ship for me, sir? 

CJS: Darling, I have more than enough ship for you and every other willing wench this side of the Caribbean. Who is the hero of your story most like: me (savvy, debonair, and unquestionably smooth with the ladies), the insufferably honorable Will Turner, or that deceptive little minx Elizabeth?

JT: John Baldwin ... Jack Sparrow. Let’s see. Absolutely like you, but taller, with better teeth, fresher breath, cleaner hair and a bigger... whoops, what was that? A parrot? He doesn’t have a parrot… now I’m yours! 

CJS: If you were trying to distract me from the fact that you nearly cast aspersions upon the size of my telescope, you'll have to do better than ... a yacht? With rum punch? Ooh. Shiny. Rum? Or more rum?

JT: What? No grog? I prefer shards of glass in my rum, thank you very much.

 CJS: Who doesn't? Which leads me to the age old question: Why is the rum always gone?

JT: It’s the rum mice. They sneak in and sip at it whilst you’re busy looking after your parrot. Naughty mice. Naughty parrot! Naughty, naughty pirate.

 CJS: Stop. I'm blushing. What’s the most piratish thing you’ve ever done?

JT: Outside of vomiting rum overboard? Let’s see… once, in a fight for truth, justice and the American way, I… wait, that wasn’t piratish, that was Royal Navyish. I’ve got it. Rescued a kitten from the pound right before it was about to be put down. (What, you don’t think pirates love kittens? We do, we really, really do!)

CJS: If they can vanquish undead monkeys, I adore them. Are they rules? Or more like guidelines?

JT: The only rules are those you create and impose upon yourself. The rest are merely suggestions, like stoplights in Italy.

 CJS: My dear, you had me at kitten. Oh, wait. That was a different question. I understand you’re a story-teller. Any undead monkeys in your stories?

JT: Come to think of it, no. I must remedy that immediately.

 CJS: Oh, bugger it. Only if you find a way to kill him off. Permanently. Any curses in your story? Heartless monsters? Irritating women who insist on taking matters into their own hands?

JT: Curses, absolutely! My previous book, THE IMMORTALS is predicated on a curse, a calling from the netherworld, a summons to the dark angel Azræl, death himself. Once Azræl is a participant, bad things happen to good little boys and girls. And of course, Taylor Jackson seeks to thwart their evil plan. 

 CJS: If I've learned anything in life, it's that a wise man ignores all calls from the netherworld. One of my favorite words is “egregious.” Care to share one of yours, love?

JT: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, love. Really, did you have to ask?

 CJS: I'm stunned into near silence by your use of such a bombastic travesty of the English language. I don't believe that even IS a word. Maybe it looks like a word through the wrong end of a mug of grog? I've seen plenty of THOSE words myself. Parlay? Or draw your sword?

JT: It’s depends. How badly have you insulted me? A stain upon my honor, or a presumption against my honor. You pick.

CJS:   *stares at your cutlass* Darling, I fear you've  misunderstood me. I adore your choice of supercalifragi listi--whatever it was. Adore it. No need to avenge your honor on my account. You’ve got a crowd of cursed sailors and a nasty sea monster on your trail. How do you escape?

JT: Close the book, silly.

 CJS: That only works in my world if said beasties have their heads between the covers of said book. Romantic night in? Or adventure on the high seas?

JT: Adventure, without a doubt. The best nights are ones where romance is found, not created.

 CJS: Here's hoping you find stealing a vessel from Her Majesty's Royal Navy romantic, then. It's at the top of my To Do list tonight. My personal motto is: Take what you want, give nothing back. What’s yours?

JT: “When you are content not to compare or compete, everyone will respect you.” Lao Tzu, who was something of a pirate himself, if you stop to think about it. Arrrrrgh!