Many of you will remember with great fondness wonderful movies that starred a very talented actor by the name of ALEX CORD. Television audiences will remember him best as the enigmatic and tenacious Michael Coldsmith Briggs III, Codename: Archangel, from AIRWOLF. I asked Alex recently if he would consider doing an interview with me to introduce some new readers to yet another of his talents - Alex is an award winning author, and has three books out. Having read them all, I can tell you with complete honesty they are fascinating, compelling fiction that you will get lost in. Links to the books, and Mr. Cord's sites, are at the end of the post. Enjoy... I am beyond thrilled to share this with you!!
Interview – January 2014
If you were asked to
define/describe your work to a potential new reader, what would you tell them
about your book(s)?
Each of my books is as different one from the
others as day is from night. Though the milieu, theme and premise in each is
totally diverse, there is in all of them a passionate, pervasive, erotic love
story. I am most interested in deeply felt and expressed human emotions and
beliefs. One book is science fiction (as of the present time) about a man who
wants to change the way the entire world thinks, another is about a modern day
Texas cowboy in grief, whose entire life is changed by a wild horse and a young
beautiful woman, another earlier book is about a love that never dies.
Do you have a genre
that you are particularly comfortable writing? Do you stray from it, or stick
mostly to the one genre?
I pay no attention to genre until the story is
told and the genre emerges. I usually find that once the characters are fully
alive, they dictate much of the story.
If you could write a
book with any author, who would it be and why?
There are many but I think my first choice
would be Shakespeare. Because he is a
genius. Then there is Steinbeck, Cormac McCarthy, Annie Proulx. I am inspired
by all of them.
is there a “dream” goal that you hope to achieve through your writing?
I am humbled by the enormous talents of those I
mentioned. I aspire to learn more, grow as a writer and engage people I don’t
know with my thoughts and feelings.
Do you have a personal
philosophy that you would like to share with readers?
Find the courage to dream dreams that most
people would not even dare to consider. Do not listen to anyone who says, “You
can’t.” If you can think it, you can feel it. If you can feel it, it can
happen. Let go of anger. Nothing positive can come of anger. It’s like picking
up a hot coal to throw at someone. Who gets burned? Above all LOVE! Find
something or someone to love every hour of every day. All good things come from
Are you like most
writers, working on the next book while we discuss the current one(s)? If so, what
– if anything – would you like to tell us about the next book?
I am entertaining two ideas. I am a slow
writer. I think I’m slow at everything. A lot of good people have been after me
to write an autobiography or memoir. I’ve often told stories of things that
have happened in my life that even I find hard to believe. I’m sure it would be
fun and difficult to go there. I am also intrigued by the multitude of ways
that men relate to women. Been thinking about a book on that. I’ve got some
notes on that one and a title which I will not reveal yet.
I’ve read both your
latest books, and an early one called Sandsong,
Alex. You have a wonderful and engaging voice that draws your readers in and
makes them care about the world you are creating. Have you drawn on the varied
experiences in your life and careers, or do you prefer to world build almost
entirely from your imagination?
Everything is from my life experiences. My life
experiences are the result of my imagination.
Where can readers find
you on the web?
Google. alexcord.net, alexcord.com, Amazon. I
spend a lot of time on my Facebook page “Alex Cord- Author” and
really love interacting with fans and friends from all over the world. Social
media has really opened up a whole new world for me—I have a mailing list,
Twitter, a blog and all kinds of things.
On a personal note, I
would like to thank you for taking time from what I know is a busy schedule,
it’s a pleasure to have you here as my guest today. I’ve been a fan for a long
time, and many people may not be aware of it, but you played a large role in my
decision to pursue writing as a career. Thank you for that, and for being here
Publication Date: January 18, 2011
"I thoroughly enjoyed reading A Feather in the Rain. I felt a real affinity with the characters and hope to one day see this book as a motion picture." ~ Harrison Ford, actor
"Alex Cord novel is ablaze with passion"
Alex Cord has starred in more than 30 movies and 300 television shows, often portraying men of grit and toughness. As a boy, he was stricken with polio and confined to a hospital. As a young man, he made a living as a professional bull rider on the rodeo circuit, once landing in a pile of broken bones that led to another lengthy stay in a hospital. Nothing, however, could prepare him to deal with the tragic loss of his son Damien Zachary.
"I went into a major depression," explains Cord. "Nothing in my life seemed to have any value, any purpose." He says he pulled the covers over his head, both literally and figuratively, unable to deal with the heartache. "I came to understand the weight of the phrase, ...died of a broken heart." He dragged himself out of bed one day, determined to write down his memories of Zach. But what began as a cathartic writing exercise soon blossomed into full-blown novel, A Feather in the Rain.
The story begins by telling of Jesse Burrell, a Texas rancher and horseman who had buried his son. Disconsolate, Jesse's love and lust for life went fallow. Determined to never again experience the heartache of loss, this trail-hardened cowboy chose a self-imposed lonely and celibate existence. With great effort, he managed to struggle through the motions of his life, running a ranch and occasionally winning awards in cutting horse competitions (although the ultimate dream of a Futurity championship eluded him.) That was how his life was, and that was how it seemed destined to remain.
Then through a chance encounter, he meets a beautiful young woman, her own heart shattered by the death of her brother. They immediately see in each other a kindred spirit. Their explosive love affair will set readers' hearts ablaze with empathy and passion.
"Of course, I know where the initial idea for the story came from," confesses Cord, "but a lot of it? Well, the story just took on a life of its own." Cord is a private man, not given to explaining where the line is that divides fiction from fact in his latest book.
A Feather in the Rain is Cord's second novel. The first-Sandsong-was published by Warner Books and has been optioned for a feature film production. He has also written and sold three screenplays.
Ernest Borgnine, Academy Award-winning actor, says of A Feather in the Rain, "Alex has written one of the finest love stories I’ve ever read."
Publication Date: December 12, 2013
Can one man change the way the entire world thinks?
Johnny Grant is a world famous movie star with a passionate social conscience and a gift of clairvoyance. Intensely discontent with man's inhumanity to man, contemptuously critical of corruption in government, greed, selfishness, he's convinced the human race is headed for self-destruction. Depressed by an insistent awareness of his impotence to affect the changes he feels would improve life for all of us, he hungers for power. Ultimate power.
Filming in Australia, he inexplicably vanishes without a trace. Instant news Worldwide. A turbulent, national manhunt ensues. Three days later he returns with an unbelievable explanation. Realizing the fantastic nature of his story, and lacking evidence, he refuses to be put in the position of convincing anyone. Is what he says true or not? Midst a media frenzy, his fame and influence explode in controversy.
Will it bring him the power he craves?
Saddleback Lodge was a
woodsy upscale steakhouse nestled in a notch at the top of a mountain
overlooking the Pacific. It was always crowded, often with celebrities. Johnny
and Monk in a booth along the wall had beers and shots of tequila in front of
them. A waiter placed a platter of sautéed mushrooms on the table. Johnny’s
eyes blinked open and shut several times as if to clear an image. Johnny Grant
was a movie star, Monk Hawksworth, his valued friend. With shoulder-length hair
and beard untrimmed, steel rimmed spectacles perched on a hawk-like nose in
front of piercing blue eyes. A quiet, mild mannered man of enormous
intelligence tipped the tequila to his lips and said, “You seem distracted.”
“I guess I am.” Johnny
divided the mushrooms. “These are so damn good.”
“I don’t know. Just
stuff. Financial crap. Things I’m no good at.” He took a hefty swig from the
shot glass. “I’m discontent, Monk. It looks like I’ve got it all…but I don’t,
and the truth is I don’t know what’s missing.”
“Yeah…” He chuckled.
“That too. But that’s not what I mean. I’m frustrated. I’m having fits of
He took a deep breath.
“I know it sounds nuts and I damn sure wouldn’t tell it to anyone
else…but…man’s inhumanity to man…it troubles me. I take things too personally.
But I can’t help it. I feel so powerless. I see so many things that are unjust
and I want to fix them. But…I don’t know how.”
“Maybe all we can do
is be as good as we can every minute of every day in our own lives. That’s
difficult enough.” The waiter arrived with steaks.
Among the BMWs and
Mercedes glowing dimly in the unlit parking lot, a red Ferrari Berlinetta GT
coupe gleamed in the starlight. Johnny and Monk made their way to the car.
Fitted themselves into the snug cockpit. Twelve cylinders roared to life.
Johnny smiled and said, “That sound made me buy this car. It still gives me a
It had little meaning
for Monk as long as it got him from point A to B. But he smiled in polite
acknowledgment. Johnny eased out of the lot onto the darkened road. With the
skill of a pro he wound his way down through the canyon to the residential area
below. Near midnight, there was no traffic. Monk was aware of tense alertness
as Johnny scanned his mirrors repeatedly. From nowhere, close behind them,
bright headlights appeared. “Here it comes,” Johnny said. “We’ve got trouble,
Monk. Sit tight. Do not get out of the car.” The headlights swerved sharply
left and shot forward. The car passed fast, cut right in front and forced the
Ferrari to the curb. The driver door of the sedan flew open. A big dark figure
came rapidly toward them as a smaller man emerged from the passenger side and
moved toward Monk. The big man pulled open the Ferrari door and jammed a
semi-automatic .45 against Johnny’s left temple. “Get the fuck out,” he
“Okay, okay, my friend
can’t get out without help. His crutches are behind the seat. I’ll give you my
money, my wallet, my watch, but this whole deal might be more trouble than it’s
worth.” Johnny was struggling with the seat belt.
“Get the fuck out.
I’ll blow your head off.” The guy, not prepared for this complication, rushed
“Okay, okay…” said
Johnny working to extricate himself from the cramped confines of the
close-to-the-ground cockpit. The .45 pressed hard against his head as he got
his feet under him and began to stand. He turned his head fast into the gun
causing it to aim past his ear as his right hand came up in a blurred arc
bearing a sixteen inch steel baton with a weighted tip that found its target
landing with a thwack against the big man’s temple. He crumpled, dropped to the
street as if boneless. The gun clattered on pavement. The mound of flesh did
not move. His accomplice shocked stood motionless. Johnny said, “Get in that
car and drive away. NOW! GO! GO NOW!
Johnny got back behind
the wheel of the Ferrari, steered around the heap in the street and drove
away…at normal speed. No one had seen what had occurred.
Monk had ceased
breathing. He was incapable of speech. All color had vanished. He stared
blankly ahead. Johnny turned onto Malibu Canyon Road. Monk gasped and found his
voice, an octave higher and only a whisper. “Did that really just happen?”
“How did you? I’ve
never seen anyone move so fast. None of it seemed real.”
“What did you hit him
Johnny was pushing the
sections of steel back into itself, ending at six and a half inches. “It’s a
telescoping baton.” He tucked it next to his seat on the right.
Monk glanced down at
the place. “Where did it come from…so fast?”
“I had it up my sleeve
when I got out.”
Where to find Alex: