Disclaimer: the narrative is pure fiction. The letters that follow are very real and from readers who wanted to express their appreciation for the Snarky Narrator and Sylvain Reynard. My thanks goes out to “both” for indulging my tom foolery or perhaps tolerating is a better word.:)
To learn more about The Snarky Narrator, Sylvain Reyanrd and their latest work, The Raven, .please go here.
Please feel free to scroll down to the good part where SN steals the show. He does not disappoint.
The Fox Who? A Night with the Snarky Narrator
A few weeks back I had the pleasure of interviewing Sylvain Reynard, the author of the Gabriel’s Inferno trilogy. The series is a must-read, by the way. Reynard was delightful and most accommodating. I’m in awe of his word-building expertise. We met for coffee and had a lively discussion about the characters in his novels. Lovely guy, but still all throughout the interview my mind kept wandering to another man deeply rooted in Gabriel’s Inferno saga; a man who knows his way around parenthesis and a turn of phrase; a man so witty, so intriguing that even The Most Interesting Man in the World pales in comparison; a man known only as the Snarky Narrator. I, myself, being a long-time proponent of snark and a lifetime user of parentheses, knew I had to meet him. Could Reynard be my in with Mr. Snarky Pants? Would he introduce a girl to the snark of her dreams? As our interview was coming to an end, I casually dropped the Snarky one’s name in hopes Reynard would take the hint. He merely scoffed it off and excused himself to the men’s room. That was the last I saw of the kind one. He did pay our tab and left a note that read “O’Malley on 53rd Street, at midnight, come alone, wear a beret and ask for Pepé Le Pew” (Mon Dieu!)
Later that night dressed in a hounds tooth sheath, black leather high heels boots and a friggin’ beret (which I hope screamed of understated elegance), I found myself walking down a dark alley in search of O’Malley’s. It was pitch dark, aside from one flickering street lamp. The whole area gave out a creepy, Jack the Ripper vibe. Was this the Reynard’s idea of a joke? To add to my woes, my feet were killing me, and I’d already tripped twice. High heels be damned. I was cursing Reynard, The Snarky Narrator, and his blasted parentheses; mumbling to myself about mysterious authors and their snotty neighbor when I spotted a sign for O’ Malley’s and a tall leggy redhead who looked like she stepped out of Vogue magazine, standing guard at the door. I would like to say I sauntered over to her. But it was more of a step, trip, step. She gave me the once over and clearly found me lacking. In a bored voice she said, “How can I help you?”
Feeling foolish, I mumbled, “I’m here to see Pepé Le Pew.” She laughed, rolled her eyes and told me to follow her. She led me down a long, dark, narrow hallway, and again I found myself questioning just what Reynard had gotten me into. I was so busy imagining my impending doom that I ran slap dab into the back of Red who had come to a stop. Apparently we had reached our destination. Doing my best impression of a Von Trapp singing the Cuckoo Cuckoo song, I looked around her and saw the most gorgeous, hunk of male standing behind the bar. Ladies, I would love to describe him to you, but there are no words to convey the depths of his beauty. I was speechless. He winked at me, asked Red to give us a few, and offered me a drink of my choosing. Of course I said something lame like when choosing my poison, I always opt for Diet Dr. Pepper straight up and on the rocks. He just smiled and poured me a cold one. He said, ‘So Reynard sent you here?” I stammered, “Yes, he said to ask for Pepé Le Pew and wear a beret.” At that, the Adonis threw his head back and laughed and said, “Reynard has a sense of humor after all. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m the Snarky Narrator, but you can call me SN, my dear. I hear you have some questions for me, pull up a bar stool and let’s have a chat, shall we”?
Now folks, I would like to tell you that I wowed the Snarky Narrator with my sassy snark; that he was blown away by my Southern charm and sweet social graces. However, when confronted with Snark excellence, my false bravado went out the window. All I could do was stare like a starry-eyed teenager mooning over her first crush. My inner sassy snark was screaming at me, “Get it together, woman!” But my 16-year-old self was drowning her out with, “He’s so hot!” (Apparently, my 16-year-old self isn’t very articulate). Luckily for me, I had come prepared. I always get by with a little help from my friends. A group of women I like to call Reynard’s Angels had given me notes and questions to ask SN. I passed the notes over and watched and listened in awe as he read and answered the questions. (This is where reality kicks in. The following are actual letters from some of the kindest women on the planet)
“My Dear Sexy SN, thank you for answering some questions for us. You’re so kind.
You have become quite popular with the ladies. How does SR feel about this? Has he said anything about your story? If so, who would narrate it?
Thank you. Some people have trouble sharing the spotlight … I think readers enjoyed my narration and that’s why they’ve responding so well.
If my story were to be told I’d have to narrate it myself. I couldn’t leave a tale like that to SR.
In Chapter 35 in Redemption, the Emersons encountered at the Uffizi a young, fair-haired man with strange gray eyes who spoke to them about the Botticelli’s illustrations with irony. He seemed very mysterious. Gabriel asks Julia to stay away from him… Do you know who this man was? Is he perhaps someone we’ll see in The Raven?
Yes, I know who he is. But I can’t tell you. You’ll have to bribe me
Btw, that chocolate body paint is still waiting.”
This sounds like an excellent tool for bribing. I’m interested …
In my opinion, the parentheses on SR books are masterpieces! I think you are genial, intelligent, beautiful, charming and your words are the touch of humor in SR’s books. But you need to know, there are rumors that you are a character from the SR’s books. A privileged character. What you have to say about it?
Thank you Renata. There are lots of “characters” in my apartment building, but trust me, I’m not one of them. I’m the narrator.
You think being a SR’s neighbor may have been a predominant factor for you to work with him in the books? How is work with SR? Have you thought about going solo? Your comic timing is wonderful!
In the beginning I was just trying to help SR out. But now I think it’s clear that I need to tell my own story.
Thanks so much for answering our questions, while your snarky character is just adored; your kind generosity is also commended.
My questions to you are:
The Raven will make the fourth novel by SR you have narrated, for budding storytellers aspiring to the ultimate ‘ Snarky Narrator’ status, do you have any words of wisdom you would like to share?
Never trust a thin chef.
You recently said in a ‘Bookish Temptation’ interview (December 1, 2013) that you were about to become a model for Calvin Klein. As a self confessed Henry Cavill look- a-like, one can only imagine that business must be ’blooming’ I mean ‘booming’. Is this working out for you and has your ‘snarky edge’ been an advantage?
When Henry Cavill and David Gandy weren’t available, I was the obvious choice. (Even though I don’t wear underwear in real life)
The SR twitter account is a delight to visit; the tweets are always charming, positive, supportive & sometimes hilariously funny. The expressed charity and kindness from SR and his readers is inspiring and I love to escape the reality of everyday life to chat with like minded SR readers.
May your next adventure be snarkier then the last!
” Je vous adore et si un jour vous voulez venir sur la côte d’azur, je me ferais un plaisir de vous faire la visite :),
Oui, Alexandra. Certainement.
How important is the point of view of a writer?
I think it’s very important. The “voice” of a writer is what the reader hears in his or her head and it should be unique and hopefully, pleasant to listen to. I think that’s why I, as the Snarky Narrator, have garnered so many admirers. Readers love to hear me talk.
Hello SN! Thank you so much for your time. Perhaps, we can play some video games after you answer my questions… (Grinning & crossing my fingers.)
I think that a man who is intelligent, have a good sense of humor & cooks is extremely sexy. Do you cook? Any signature dish?
When I cook for myself it’s simple comfort food like chili. I’d never serve it to a date, however. For you, I’d make spaghetti and meatballs … and then we can play Grand Theft Auto.
If you were to take me to a date, were would you take me? (Duck my head blushing & smiling.)
I’d take you to a Botanical Garden so we could admire the beauty together.
(Cue silly narrative) and then I handed SN one last letter. I watched with nervous anticipation as he began to read.
I wrote this note just in case the unthinkable happened and I was so overcome by just the snark of you, that I was rendered speechless. I want to thank you for agreeing to this interview and for being the snarkiest of snark. Please give SR my regards, and tell him, Pepé Le Pew and I have a beret full of sugarless gummies with his name on it. If you see the dashing Gabriel, please give him a kiss for me, on the cheek of course, anything else would be unseemly. I do have one question for you. What would you title your memoir?
Snarky: My Years in Captivity.
Stay snarky, hunky and parenthetical.
Thank you, ladies. It was a pleasure to be with you, SN.
This one goes out to the Snarky Narrator.
8 thoughts on “The Fox Who? A Night with the Snarky Narrator from Gabriel’s Inferno”
Loved it, Tosha, well done!! :))
Well done, my friend. xo
great job Ms. Tosh 🙂
Thanks to one and all. x
I was so happy to read this when you posted it. It was the Highlight of my work conference! He was snarky and you were lovely. Your narrative was amazing! Thank you for allowing us to be a part of this.
Your questions were brilliant. Thanks for pushing me to do this. It was a lot of fun.
Wonderful narrative. Can’t be snarky about it, sorry!
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