Author Interview and Giveaway: Shawn Martin

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Shawn Martin whose latest book Forget Me Not is released today. Forget Me Not is the second book of the Shadowflesh Series. Leave a comment for a chance to win one of two print copies of the book.

The books in the Shadowflesh Series are as follows: Shadowflesh (February 2013), Forget Me Not (March 2013), Invisible Ink, Shadow of Doubt, and Nevermore (the last three TBA). Shawn subscribes to the theory that even though a picture is worth a thousand words, a poet believes a word is worth a thousand pictures–so he tried keeping his titles concise, using words that were rich with passion, lament, fear, and dreamy imagery.

“If, for example, I had called the books Aileen’s Story, Aileen’s Other Story, etc… the titles may have been accurate, but they wouldn’t have made anyone’s world move. Titles should make the ground quake and the skies swirl,” he explained.

Much of what is in Shadowflesh and Forget Me Not was taken out of the pages of Shawn’s personal experiences. He encountered bullies and intolerant religious types and outcasts who hid in the shadows. In fact, the outcasts–the group who belonged to no group–was the group he hung out with in high school. They hid themselves from the bullies, or simply hid from themselves. He has known both love and pain, life and death. He has seen dreams come true and nightmares shatter hearts.

“Somehow I had managed to survive those years with my memories intact, without reconfiguring my past to conform with the future I had constructed,” he said. “Of course some of the paranormal elements were spawned in my imagination, but they were nourished from both the darkest and brightest days of my teen years.”

For the last several months, Shawn has been working on the third installment in the Shadowflesh Series, Invisible Ink.

“I had found myself with the book nearly finished, but felt it lacked the passion and promise of the other two books. That was likely a grim reflection of my personal life,” he admitted. “However, my darkness has been vanquished, and light is shining on both Invisible Ink and my life once again. I’m spending my nights rewriting the story and hope to have it out sometime next year.”

Shawn began writing fiction during his high school days. I asked him to tell us about some of his early writing.

“Everything from a touching tale about a killer whale falling in love with a submarine, or a musical play about a lonely girl trapped in an insane asylum, all mirroring the time when Alice had been admitted to Wonderland Memorial, or heart-wrenching excuses written to school counselors telling them why poor Shawn had missed school the last three days because he had saving nuns lost in a cave,” he said. “Ten years ago, I spent serious time refining my art, hoping that one day it would rise up to the level of being a talent. After many Zen moments of near success consumed by the dragon of failure, my status went from amateur to pro in February 2013, with the publication of Shadowflesh.”

“Do you ever suffer from writer’s block?” I asked. “If so, what do you do about it?”

“When writer’s block comes to visit, it often plans on staying a while. It robs the psychic nourishment from my mental fridge. It kicks me out of my bed, steals the remote, and worst of all, runs away my muse—that super-secret inner voice which whispers words into my pen and breathes life into my soul. I fight writer’s block by forcing myself to get a change of scenery, a change of perspective, and a change of attitude. Writer’s block doesn’t like change, and he often slams the door and leaves. Then my muse comes wandering back home, ready to tell me about her adventures.”

Shawn told me that he doesn’t invent his characters as much as he meets them, just like he meets people. He will find himself immersed in a situation or event, where new and interesting people cross his path, and he gets to know them.

“So, really the plot, in its rawest, brutish form, comes first,” he told me. “Then I meet the characters, and they blossom like a rose nearly a week after Valentine’s Day. But then once I get to know my characters, the plot grows and details emerge, and more characters are met. And so on, and so on. Plot does indeed come first, but it is woven in with the characters so much that it’s easy to lose sight of where it all began.”

“What is your work schedule like when you are writing?” I wondered.

“I have to balance my writing schedule with the other obligations in my life. While I’d like to be one of those old Victorian authors in his oak paneled study puffing on a pipe in his red velvet smoking jacket, writing, writing, writing, I live in the 21st Century and am a slave to our times. I work as a firefighter, which has my undivided attention 24 hours out of every 72. I don’t write on duty, so that gives me two days to devote to my stories. I prefer the late evening into the early morning hours for writing. My inhibitions are low and my creativity is high, a perfect combination for spilling ink onto paper.”

“Now, a fun question. Have you ever eaten a crayon?”

“Wow, what a question! I’m afraid the answer is, yes. I’ll offer this explanation, which should never be interpreted as justification. When I was young—grade school young—and far from my finest moment, I had upgraded from the standard sixteen crayon box to the exquisite sixty-four crayon box. The colors had such fascinating names, such as mulberry, and mulberries sounded absolutely delicious. The crayon looked so ripe, and I thought, what could be the harm? One nibble later and I was sorely disappointed. It tasted nothing like any berry I had ever eaten. It more closely resembled wax and made my teeth feel gummy. Since then, I’ve sworn off crayons.”

“Thanks for stopping by! And, good luck with the new book.”

“It was a joy sharing a little about myself with you, and I want to offer a big Thank You to Long and Short Reviews. Never stop reading, dreaming, and living.”

About the Author3_31 author photoShawn Martin calls Springfield, Missouri, home. After graduating from Missouri State University with majors in Economics and Political Science, he bounced around the Midwest only to end up right where he started.

His day (and night) job is being a firefighter. Aside from rescuing cats in trees and removing burnt pot roasts from ovens, he spends his time finding the hardest way to do the simplest of things. The rest of his time is spent weaving words into another installment in the Shadowflesh Series.

Website ~ @martiniaff152 ~ Facebook ~ Blog

3_31 ForgetMeNot 200x300Fortune has smiled on seventeen year old Aileen McCormick ever since Addison came back into her life, giving her the love she has so desperately longed for. That is, until a mysterious man slithers across her path and slips a spellbinding cameo around her neck. The cameo holds more than just the image of an enchantress who hungers for souls. It possesses a curse that strangles away every memory Aileen has of Addison.

Addison, a three hundred year old fugitive from the netherworld, recognizes the wretched woman inside the cameo and the curse she has cast on his unsuspecting love. The enchanted cameo has but one purpose: to torment Aileen with hints of love she can no longer recall.

Nothing more than a stranger to Aileen, Addison insists that she knows him, that she has felt his lips on hers. Thinking the handsome young man in his leather jacket and dark Wayfarers is playing some cruel game, she pushes him away and runs into the arms of Geoff, the one person who could ever rival Addison.

Geoff has waited oh, so long for Aileen. Before the opportunity slips away, he sweeps her off her feet at the Christmas masquerade ball. But fate thrusts Aileen into Addison’s waiting arms. One passionate kiss later, she knows beyond a shadow of doubt that she loves the icy stranger with smoky blue eyes.

Her newfound love is overshadowed by tantalizing hints of the first love she shared with Addison, just beyond her memory’s reach. And remembering comes at too high a price. Aileen cannot escape the deadly cameo. She runs for her life with the curse only a breath away. If she truly wants her memory back, the enchantress is all too willing to restore it. It will cost her, though. Cost her everything.

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Shattering Grief by Shawn Martin (w/giveaway)

Like most writers, I supplement my addiction to creativity with a day (and night) job in the real world, the one that exists outside the pages.  It ensures the lights stay on and that there is always sauce on the spaghetti.  In addition to a steady paycheck, my occupation has opened the doors into the raw emotions people feel on what might very well be the worst day their lives.

I am a firefighter.

For nearly eighteen years I have been given a unique perspective on anguish and fear, anger and forgiveness.  I’ve witnessed both hope and misery, and have respectfully drawn on my experiences to make my characters more than superficial mannequins reciting lines.

As I began sculpting the conclusion to Shadowflesh, I wanted to bring out the true emotions of grief then relief.  I struggled with how Aileen would react, what she would feel as the story drew to an end.  Warning:  What follows hints of a spoiler.

Several years ago while pulling a double shift, a house fire was dispatched to our unit.  Like clockwork, the crew hopped onto the truck and sped to the blaze.  Other than flames blossoming out the windows, it was an average house in an average neighborhood.  A family stood outside, clutching what few belongings they had managed to save and staring at the impossible injustice of destruction.  Tears streamed down panicked faces.

I asked if anyone was inside.  None of them could seem to gather enough calm breath to speak.  Finally, a teenage girl coughed up the word “cat.”

As the crew began to snake the thick hoses to the front door, the girl grabbed my arm.  She shook her head hopelessly and explained, “He’s afraid.”

I glanced at the flames and billowing black smoke, wondering who wouldn’t be.

As one crew took care of the fire, I had joined the search team.  Working my way through the house, I found a back bedroom filled with deadly smoke.  I looked around, but found no cat.  Then I glanced at the bed, then the bed ruffle.  Peeking underneath, I discovered the petrified cat hiding in what little oxygen was left in the house.  After coaxing it out, I wrapped it completely in a towel I’d found on the floor.

The girl saw the covered bundle I carried outside, and I saw the grief in her eyes.  I could see she believed I carried the lifeless body of something she loved.

I’ve studied the grief cycle.  Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. She must have sped through those first four phases while I crawled through the smoke and heat, because all I saw on her face was acceptance.  She had calmly and sadly accepted her cat had died.  Her grief was complete.

She held out her hands, and I placed the towel in her arms.  The towel stirred.  A slant-eared tabby poked his head out and wailed a long complaint.  The girl’s eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.  And she exhaled, shattering her grief as if it had been a fragile stained glass window.

In Shadowflesh, Aileen didn’t lose a cat.  She lost something much more dear to her.  She fell through those same emotions as quickly and sadly as the girl who stood before her lost home.  Fate had been cruel to each of them.  As the story drew to an end, Aileen shattered her grief with the same light in her eyes as the girl holding the frightened cat.

While I tap away at my computer working on the next book in the series, I do it with a bittersweet smile on my face.  The characters’ emotions were born from the real pain, anguish, and hope I witness during the daily grind.

 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 4_10 Shawn - pic to RTShawn Martin lives with my unconventional wife, two amazing sons, and a clowder of cats in Missouri. After graduating from Missouri State University with mostly harmless majors in Economics and Political Science, he took to the road rather than enrolling in law school.

When he finally settled down in 1995, he became a firefighter. Aside from rescuing cats in trees and removing burnt pot roasts from ovens, he spends his time finding the hardest way to do the simplest of things. The rest of his time is spent working on the next book in the Shadowflesh Series.

 

4_10 ShadowFlesh 200x300 (2)Death and darkness lurk in the shadows, awakening the flesh and forbidden love. Torn from her home and fighting bouts of suicidal depression, seventeen year old Aileen McCormick lands in the small coastal town of Redcliff, North Carolina. Her first day of school promises to be the worst day of her life when a menacing group of boys target the new girl. Shoved into the arms of arms of Addison Wake, she knows she’ll never be the same. Addison’s otherworldly charm and drop-dead gorgeous face leave her breathless, but only for a moment.

Grim and painful secrets lurk in his dark soul. Addison Wake isn’t exactly like other boys. Far from it. He’s dead and has been for 300 years, locked in an ethereal prison by a lethal enchantress named Donelle. When she hungers, she blesses Addison’s tortured spirit with moments of freedom, allowing him to roam the mortal world as Shadowflesh. But that dark blessing comes at a price. He must deliver the souls of five unsuspecting humans to Donelle. Knowing he’s here only for a short amount of time, Addison refuses to let himself fall in love and break Aileen’s already fractured heart. He pushes her into the arms of another, but destiny throws the two shadowy lovers back together.

In the darkness of her room, Addison confesses his love and his deadly secret to Aileen. When four dead bodies pop up in Redcliff, Aileen asks herself is her love for the mysterious boy unconditional? Is the love worth the risk? And will she be the next victim?