The First Ever Television Interview with Fiction Author Ivana Hruba in which the Word Really is Mentioned a
lot and Mysteries of ‘A Decent Ransom’ all but Revealed.
Ned: So I’m reading here that you’re pretty, witty
and very very talented?
Ivana (smiling and casting
demure glances like a virgin bride): Don’t you believe everything you hear, Ned. I wouldn’t say I’m very
very talented. Just talented, really.
Ned (nodding): I see. It says here that you write, paint, draw cartoons, decoupage, crochet
clothes for your dogs and the cat, trim trees into geometrical shapes, dress garden gnomes as characters in Shakespearean
plays, fluently gesture in fifty-five languages, make really tiny landscapes in really tiny glass bottles using only toothpicks
and moss, organize baby wardrobes for a modest fee and … (Ned squints closely at the print out)…make
nice-smelling candles to sell at your local church. That’s very impressive, Ivana.
Ivana (looking very pleased): It is, Ned. And I also play the guitar.
Ned (with just a hint of irony): Aha. You wouldn’t be a
singer too by any chance, would you?
Ivana (a slight blush suffusing her attractive cheeks): Well, funnily enough, I was in
a band for years.
Ned: Singing?
Ivana: Lead.
Ned: Naturally.
Ivana:
Naturally. (Here Ivana beams, winking at Ned and raising her brows just so.)
Ned (taking the hint) affords himself an indulgent smile: And you were successful, I take it?
Ivana (grinning expectantly at the
thought of delivering a witty punch-line): Well, we made just enough to keep me in waitressing.
(A slight pause follows during which eventually Ivana stops grinning.)
Ivana (tossing her hair playfully): I’d like to point out that I am no longer in that
line of work.
Ned: Oh? What made you
give that up?
Ivana: Popular demand,
really.
Ned (laughs heartily): Sorry to hear
that. It must have been tough when nobody showed up.
Ivana
(looking pointedly around the empty studio): I wouldn’t know about that. We had lots of people come to our shows. Loads,
really.
Ned: So it was a good show then?
Ivana: Oh yes, well worth the two dollar cover charge. We had
queues every pension night.
Ned: Really? At the door?
Ivana: Well … (looks undecided for a moment then decides
to tell the truth)… perhaps I should explain. There were queues at the toilets every pension night because we only
played every second Thursday and they wouldn’t let us use the stage so we just set up by the wall between the Ladies
and the Men’s but the drummer couldn’t really fit the drum kit in that tiny narrow space so the kit basically
barred the toilets on both sides and people had trouble getting in.
Ned (after a pause during which he stared intently at Ivana sitting across from him): Right,
right. Interesting. So why didn’t you keep going if you were that popular?
Ivana: I wasn’t really comfortable with that kind of exposure.
It was too much. People were taking photos and everything.
Ned (perking up): What? You did nude photos?
Ivana (gasping theatrically): Me? I never!
Ned: Why not?
Ivana: Nobody asked,
if you must know.
(An awkward pause follows during which Ned contemplates why
it was that Ivana wasn’t asked to pose nude and Ivana contemplates why Ned would be wondering about that when there’s
a great literary tome to talk about. The hush is broken when Ned eventually mutters):
Sooo… let us speak about the novel. I would imagine it is worth a lot to you.
Ivana: Well, Ned, I don’t think about it in monetary terms.
It’s not viable, really.
Ned: Of course not. You
can’t really put a price on those things, can you?
Ivana: Oh, I could.
Ned laughs a wee bit
too loud. Leaning slightly forward, he winks at Ivana across the table.
Tell
me how much you got for the book.
(Ivana sighs, looking
resigned if slightly uncomfortable because she knows she has no choice but to answer - after all, she had promised to give
a ‘warts and all’ interview):
Well, without giving away any details,
dear Ned, I can tell you that the money I’ve already received is well in line with the immense talent I possess and
the high profile I enjoy.
Ned: Yes, I've heard
you're huge on social networking websites. It says here you've got about five hundred friends on Ned's Greatest
Reads.
Ivana beams proudly and casts more
demure glances: Actually, it’s a bit more than that. 538 in total.
Ned: Right, right. Interesting. Soo…(Ned nods thoughtfully, swiveling slightly in his
swivel chair) …would you say you’re close to these people?
Ivana (hesitantly): Well…we’re friends, you know.
Ned: Aha. So if you came face to face with one, you’d be okay with that?
Ivana: Oh yeah, I’d be all right. I carry me Mace on me
at all times.
Ned picks up a stack
of loose papers he had been gathering into a pile during the interview and taps the pile into a neat stack.
Ned: Well, then, Ivana, it’s been a pleasure. (He beams
at the author, extending his hand towards her in a gesture of good-bye.)
Ivana (confusedly): Huh? So soon? Can we talk about the book?
Ned: Sorry, love, we’re out of time.
P.S. After the interview, Ned invited Ivana to sit on his knees. When she declined, he settled for
sitting next to her to pose for a photograph.