Author Interview with Mother Gwynelda
A Dreary, Rotten Underworld Christmas Ebook is available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B08Q4LT5WY
Sit a spell and discover more about the Underworld Christmas’ towering maternal figure.
*The Underworld mother, Gwynelda, sits comfortably with the hood of her pine green cloak draped over her shoulders, exposing her horns curved like mutated ram horns. Her eyes blaze with colors of flames in a hearth. She taps her claws against a black box secured with a red ribbon.
Author: “Good morning, and Happy New Year.”
Mother Gwynelda: “Oh, thank you. And a Crappy New Year to you, too.”
Her genuine smile is marred by werewolf fangs.
Author: *Ahem* “Yes. In a Facebook post, I compare you to an alternative Mrs. Clause-“
Mother Gwynelda: “Hmmmm….”
Author: “But you don’t have elves in the home.”
Mother Gwynelda: *Shakes her head* “No, no. My home is filled with the bad children Krampus brings me to care for in the Underworld.”
Author: “You seem to like children.”
That horrid smile quakes through Mother Gwynelda’s face again. “I love children. The more horrible, rotten, and mischievous, the better!”
Author: You say you “care for” the children taken by Krampus. What is your parenting style?
Mother Gwynelda’s tone is serious and sharp. “Why, I am the mother all children want. I bake treats for them and never make them eat their vegetables. Or do homework. Or go to the dentist. Or clean their rooms. But if they don’t clean up after themselves, I certainly do not.”
Author: “What is a typical day like in your Underworld home?”
Mother Gwynelda: “Well, in the mornings, the children usually trample each other to be first at the table for pancakes or waffles. Most mornings there is a fight before breakfast. The kids often go sledding or get into snowball fights, which leads usually leads to another fist fight. When they come inside, they pile all their wet jackets and smelly boots on the floor and again trample each other for cookies and hot chocolate. All the while, Tannen Boom stays indoors and plays violent, bloody video games.”
*She leans closer* “Occasionally though, I make some special chloral hydrate hot chocolate to help the children fall asleep. The old Christmas Devil and I do like to have a night to ourselves from time to time.”
Author: *Blink* “Of course. Christmas is a special time in the home, correct?”
Mother Gwynelda: “Absolutely! We hang stockings and decorate trees. Most years, the children knock down their tree. My darlings open their gifts.”
Author: “Yes, Underworld gifts. This year, a couple of them got crossbows, right?”
Mother Gwynelda: “Yes, we learned our lesson when we gave Splatter Mint and Splinter Green chainsaws.”
The Author’s face pales: “Chainsaws?”
Mother Gwynelda appears lost in thought: “That year was rather messy. The children’s Christmas tree was sawed to pieces, and Jolly Rottyn screamed at them because she wanted to destroy it, and then Tannen Boom yelled at everyone to shut up because he couldn’t hear his game from all the ruckus. And the poor cat. *She shakes her head sadly* That was also the year a few of the whiney children went missing.”
*Mother Gwynelda shrugs dismissively and then folds her spidery hands politely over the dreary gift box. Â
Author clears her throat and searches for another subject. “You like to bake!”
Mother Gwynelda: “Yes! I brought some of my famous grungy bread men. I am sure you will gobble them up!”
*She lifts the lid and her proud smile faltered.
Author: “Is everything alright?”
Mother Gwynelda: “I brought you three grungy bread men. But…”
*She holds the open box out, where two gingerbread men stand up and look at me like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Only a stale gumdrop button and the head remain of the third grungy bread man, who now has black X’s for eyes. The other two hold either and arm or a leg of the poor baked good soul. Icing lips crunch greedily into a hand or foot. The Author stares in disbelief. Mother Gwynelda sets the box back down in her lap.
Author: “Mother Gwynelda, in your experience, do you see that children have grown more misbehaved or bad over the years?”
She ponders this question: “No. I wouldn’t say children have gotten more ill mannered or bad recently. They do seem more entitled. Gifts now are big screen TV’s, gaming systems and phones that cost a thousand dollars a pop. They certainly have far more options of bullying and showing cruelty. They tease each other through online games and torment each other over social media now. But so do many adults.”
Author: “That’s true. What are the Underworld children like once they grow up?”
Mother Gwynelda laughs crisply. “Grow up? I would never let that happen. Besides, which would you rather be-forever a child at Christmas time or spend over half of your life as an adult decorating your home perfectly, cooking dinner, baking treats, and shopping for the latest and greatest gifts that your kids will get bored with in a couple of months?”
The Author smiles at her. “You do have a point there.”
*A loosed arrow stabs through a grungy bread man and pins him to the wall behind Mother Gwynelda, who chuckles and praises: “Good shot!”
Author: “I should let you get back to the children…”
