An Interview with Scott Marlowe

An Interview with Scott Marlowe

Author edit: As an experiment I have decided to see what the fuss with KDP Select was all about and see how much it changes things.  When the experiment is over I can fully come to my conclusion.  That is the only thing that has changed in the interview

For the Love of a Royal (typewriter that is)

Because I feel Nostalgic I wanted to reblog one of my earlier posts when I first started up, and before I had such great friends with like minds.

J.S. Riddle

I would have said Ode, but that would entail poetry……and I haven’t written poetry, especially in a certain style, in a very long time I doubt I am any good at that. So we’ll just go with the flow and see where it takes us.

When I say the love of a Royal I mean specifically a Sea Green Vintage Royal Quiet Deluxe manual one from the 50’s.

She was my first love, my Royal, and I dare say that I have loved anything (or anyone) as much as I have her. As much as I have had an awakening of all literature that I could stand nothing can replace the opening my mind took when she came into my life.

It was silly, actually, how I came about it. Maybe fate, we’ll never know. All I know is that I was thirteen at the oldest and took a trip…

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I need an explaination

Google + and its many uses.  Help?

Twitter:  I speak and promote but what benefit does it have?

FB page:  what are its benefits?

My author page is informative but I have noticed a difference between those that like my blogs and those who like/read my books.  How should I mesh these in together?

I see many an author do video’s.  What are the points to this?  Does it have to be that high tech?  I’m trying to get to the next gen without feeling like a dinosaur.  Input.  I see over 100 fans, I’d like more than just a few responses please.

The day that will go on and on

Do you remember that song that goes something like “this is the song that never ends…” yeah, so today is going to be one of those. Although I may seem like this chipper kind of girl I have my days and may be pulling Ionia aside for some porch time.
It made me think; how many bad days do we have? What starts the rolling boulder of demonic possession?  It can seem like being woken up 15 minutes before the alarm were to go off, having no coffee left available in the empty container, rain, the woman/man looking in the mirror has this evil eye staring at you, or even looking at your book sales and the numbers just don’t match up with the previous days.  What happens if it’s all at once?
So now that you have thought about the simple things that can start a day off wrong, what are your remedies?  What do you do to muddle through?

I got out of bed.  Isn’t that enough?

Because it is about to be Autumn……sale time .99 cents


Tis the season for falling leaves of yellows, reds, oranges, and browns; Tis the season for pumpkin flavored and decorated everything; Tis the season for brisk walk with the wind blowing gently in your face; Tis the season for my electric bill to go down because I don’t have to run the Air Conditioning or Heat.

It is Autumn here in the southern united states and I have the pleasure to watch it unfold before my very eyes.  So because I am in a happy mood about the season I have put Rise of a Queen up for sale at Amazon for only .99 cents.  That’s approximately 366 pages for a penny shy of a dollar!!!!  Click the book to check it out

cover 1854 2676


Does anyone get so frustrated in doing your work you just want to repeatedly just bang your head against the desk in front of you?  I suppose I should say “virtual desk” since its hard to reach mine with all the papers spread out everywhere.  I know, I know I should really clean it up, but then how would I find what I’m looking for?  Take the memory stick panic not too long ago causing me to go out and buy another after I found it so I could do back-up behind the back-up.  Chaos = sanity to my I suppose.  

Life and work don’t like to mix a lot and as things go they tend to interfere with one another quite a bit.  It’s that extra little bite in the tushy.  I can’t just sit in my office, or on the bed, couch, floor, anyplace I find to get work done, and attempt to do everything at once like some sort of obsessive person.  Trust me, it happens and when it does any disruption summons the most evil of beings that would quite easily send you into the pit of Mount Doom.  Honestly I do get my best work done while in obsessive mode, but what becomes of life and reality?  Doesn’t there need to be both to really function as an author?  If not then why am I here?  Why am I interacting?  Wait, why am I here and not working?  Technically I am, I’m just staring at the somewhat organized outline I attempted to make (thanks to the suggestion of a great fantasy writer friend of mine Charles Yallowitz who is much more organized than I am and it shows; click on his name and check him out if you haven’t already), combining it with my historical outline and doing my best to make them overlap.  That’s the joy and pain of research.  I love doing such a thing and maybe I get a little in too deep and can’t pull myself out.  I feel the need to make things somewhat historically accurate while I slide that fiction right in there.  It gives the story a more sense of realism or more of a “hmmm, you never know do you?” kind of feeling.

We know my love for mythology and now you know my intrigue in history, although to be honest I am a tad snobby when it comes to any time after the colonization of the USA (Including all the wars that happened after) and I could care less.  Ancient History, World History, Theoretical History……that’s where my heart lies.  Combine that with my love for vampires and the supernatural would you doubt I would try my best to combine the two?

So Tessa’s journey countinues as time goes by and as I see the end of that tunnel I pause.  I truly pause.  I want to go further, I need to go further but that thing called Life screams at me.  So much change, so many responsibilities, and so much mixed emotions it is really hard to harness them.  Of course none of them coincide with where I’m at in the book.  That would make things too easy.  I get deeply rooted into what I write and I take on the role of each character that is important at the time so I can look down the barrel of the gun so to speak.  If I can’t feel anything or BE that person/vampire then how are my readers supposed to?  Its probably why I get so much mail on the exact subject.  I want just as much of a connection with my characters as people had with the first one.  I’m not saying I’m a best selling author, or any better than anybody else, because I’m not.  I feel and I write, both to an extreme.  I gave up on a deadline for that exact reason.  I’m letting the Beta readers help tremendously and will figure out what to do after the first draft is done, because we know that is the most raw of any form of writing.  There are times when I wish that maybe I should stick to smaller bits of work, but the story is so tremendous that even the trilogy is hard to break up as it is.  It’s a story that I’ve know the ending since the beginning, or at least an inkling.  All that middle stuff just has to be fleshed out and written.  Remember in school when the math teachers made you write out HOW you came to the answer you just knew to be correct, but it was much harder to do exactly that?  Yep, its a lot like that.  I know the answer, the formula is much harder to explain.

So as I toddle between my work and my life I wish for my helper, or someone of the same caliber because it was just the push I needed.  We can’t always be that lucky.  For now as the afternoon begins I will sit here in my hoodie under a blanket, sipping cup after cup of pumpkin flavored coffee in my nicely heated mug and stare between pages and enjoy the solitude.  Looking out my window I see the leaves  begin to turn and the cars pass by while the birds in distance speak to one another and in the background the snoring of Ares, who deserves to relax as much as he wants through the day because I’d rather a healthy dog than the one that was sick not too long ago.  Responsibility comes soon enough and won’t wane until 11 tonight.  Back to work I will go and hopefully, just hopefully, I can stop hitting that head on the desk and focus.

I so need a social life or a complete solitary one to kick start things into gear. 

A glimpse into a past piece of contemplation work

As most know, I write in a method of contemplation from time to time.  Not everything, obviously, but that is why Tessa’s journal is so personal to me because it shows her inner struggle, her highs and her lows and from that journal you get to know her.  Odd enough, I don’t do daily journals for myself.  I do snippets here and there but that’s about it.

I was rummaging through some of my contemplation pieces from a few years back and figured I would share.  It’s not got the happy theme so be warned, but I would think that at least a part of you could probably feel what I was feeling as I wrote it.   Will you know if its fiction or reality?  That’s the fun part and actually kind of irrelevant since once it transfers from the inner being to the paper it all becomes a part of its own world.  


I seriously have no clue how to feel and act anymore.  My psyche is everywhere and although I feel deep and enlightened in bits and pieces, that quickly turns to a fog screaming emotions of fear, pain, anger, and sadness.

Things have never been easy for me.  It’s a destiny I have accepted as a constant.  From time to time that brief moment of clarity I take as a strong advisement and the elation I embrace as long as I can for those are such a treasure in this sinking ship.

In a world full of people, one would think of the ease it would be to make things proper; normal. Interaction is a primal need, humans have always been a social species.  Social is by far something that is quite needed, especially for someone in such a state, but what happens when that has always been needed is what failed them in the past?  What if every interaction, even those seemingly part of the elation factor, leads to one of damaging proportions and become part of the dreaded fog?  Friendships turn sour, touching turns to pain, conversations warp the mind, and desires turn to devastation.  Trust has died along with love; happiness a facade planted on a face to show the world that everything is perfect.

Solitude seems a perfect answer until it is realized the need for social, an attachment, and an outside emotion is much needed.  So is it masochism at its finest?  The rock, the shell, the hole, a perfectly protected place; to leave it will guarantee pain, grief, agony, and despair.  

There really isn’t anyone or anything that can put a magic bubble around anything like that and I don’t care what a person tries to tell me.  If it were that way then so many things in the world would not have been so harmful.  The path set in front of us is only an illusion because the safe one that promises protection and the darker path that guarantees nothing but obstacles; they all lead to the same place and we are all in a grand delusional state to think otherwise.  What does one do?  How does one handle it?  How far until the breaking point?  What would the breaking point be and what would be the final blow that crushes it all?  Only so much can be hardened, numbed, or blocked away before even that is overtaken.

There is no real answer, and no need for pity.  The truth in the matter is that I am just a bystander in my own life watching each derailment, unable to stop it.  The faces of Janus know me by name with each passing moment that ticks through time.


Where’s the bus stop….

because I’m ready to get off this ride.  It has made me nothing but dizzy, tired, and downright ornery.

It has been a most intense month I can be certain.  Without delving too deep I can say that internal and external conflict have made things rather difficult to focus on my main agenda.  Not a day went by that it wasn’t filled with one extreme or another and everybody had a say in things whether I was a part of it or not.  So a damned if I did or damned if I didn’t kind of thing.  What makes it worse is that its hard to pull yourself out of something you tried to stay away from in the first place.  I’m the chosen lightning bolt apparently.  Family and friends have fallen ill, some have become better; some have unfortunately taken a turn for the worse, a friend of mine got engaged (woohoo!!!!!), and solemn anniversaries have passed (September 11th was also my deceased mother’s birthday), and all in total there are just good days and bad.  With the good ones I spread the energy into my writing and enjoying a day just as beautiful as this one.  With the bad, the bed calls, the mellow music plays and I can only hope I can pour some of it into my work.

Bad news in me geek world, I missed DragonCon once again.  One of these years, I swear I’m going to make it.

Some good news, for sure since i seem to have not kept those up to date like I should have, is that I had finally collected the funding needed to have Ares tested and they came out well enough, although we are keeping watch on certain levels. Considering he will be 11 in a few months he is doing well.  

Some other good news, my promotional days went off well and am getting some wonderful messages telling me their thoughts.  If those turned into reviews I would go through the roof!

As life keeps shooting its arrows in my direction, some even full of vile poison, I dodge the best I can.  So no fear.  I will sleep better once that nice new king size bed comes to my door tomorrow.  Oh I am so looking forward to some  great comfortable sleep.  It is definitely needed.

New tabs to check out

check out my new tabs on

I added Interviews and Reviews finally.

My time will be sporadic this week, BUT I am always up for an interview And most definitely and more than happy to see a new review to pop up.

I have an interview and a review to come up soon so I will see if I can add them as soon as I can.

The House Where the Things Go Bump in the Night

Otherwise known as my house.  The one I painstakingly sweated tears and blood to get in time to move, the one that brought me to a better place to live, the one that brings old charm into a beautifully old neighborhood, and the best place I have ever rented.  Mind you, this place was built in the 20’s so there are a lot of elements good and bad that mix into all of this.

Until it gets dark of course and I take notice of all sorts of things.  Every little sound from the creaking of the floorboards, the small drip coming from the tub, tree branches scratching my windows, and of course things always dropping onto the added-in skylight in the kitchen.  As I am in writers mode at this time of night all these tiny simple things turn into something grandiose in my mind and it runs away faster than I can keep up.

You see, I do have a few fears of the house.  Yes me, the one who kills people off with a pen swifter than you can get a paper-cut, I do have fears.  Granted some are warranted (like needles and snakes) while others are purely subconsciously settled.  Those won’t budge so I figured, hey let’s share 🙂

Lets start with what I like to call the Goblin Door.

ImageSee that tiny door?  I’m sure its not hard to miss.  It sits quietly in my kitchen between a door and the refrigerator.  Most would pay no mind to it or take it as it is, a door to something necessary.  I don’t see it that way.  I see it as just what I imagine.  A door that somehow lurking behind it sits a goblin determined to come out and catch me at the most inconvenient time.  So naturally, I have put a few obstacles in its path.  First, I have a tin object hanging from the LOCKED door, so if it were to slide open the tin falls and I’m alerted to the beginning of a bumpy night.  For good measure I usually throw the bin in front of it, followed by the broom, and a few containers filled with dog and cat food.  This by far is creepy enough.  Let’s move on to the other thing that really bothers me.

My basement.  You’re thinking, “yeah so its a basement, no big deal a lot of people don’t like them, but they are only basements and nothing else.”  Or is it?  Who is to say that this house is not sitting on top of a portal to the other world, the goblin door just being one of many places these creatures my come out?  It can be pretty easy to tell that something could be amiss in the supernatural world just by looking at things.

The stairs.  yes, the stairs.  Woohoo, simple.  Yet why in the world are they held up by rope?  That is something that baffles me and flashes red lights as I squeeze myself down them.

ImageThe moment I step down from the stairs I am greeted by tons of old brick, dirt, and rock since the house was built into a hill.  Pipe after pipe above me leading sometimes from nowhere to nowhere.  I turn to the left and what can I see? 

A place Goblins can go to and from their other realm (or whatever creatures that might decide to visit)



I can only imagine some dark disfigured creature slithering out of that hole and leaving behind heaps of ash.  

I proceed a bit further and something people haven’t seen in a while is what looks to be an old coal generator of sorts, complete with real lumps of coal on the ground. To me, this seems like an easy storage units for nibbles the goblins save for later.

ImageOf course we could always hope that the reason these goblins have been kept at bay was because they  haven’t found a use for me yet.  Maybe they’re the kind that prefer to EAT the coal, or bricks, or concrete, add a multitude of minerals to the mix.  Let’s hope this is the last place they stop for if they want a midnight snack.



So there you have it folks.  My house, my imagination, and the creep factor.  I will tell you one thing, I kid you not, I have a sword that for any reason I hear ramblings, scurrying, clanking, or to even go to the basement after the sun goes down (it has windows, but lighting is left up to two dim bulbs) I will use to the best of my ability.





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