Ink Motions - Interview
How do you get an idea for your novel?
Honestly? All sorts of ways. My main inspiration is that I want to write stories where my main characters aren’t defined by their sexuality. For my most recent novel in the Theo Bourne series, I was actually inspired by Slender Man. I wanted to write a story based around his “myth”.
My newest story (which is slated to release in March), there was a lot that gave me inspiration. I pulled influences from multiple books in fantasy, RPG video games, and the bible. Crazy, right? But I wanted to write a fantasy story set with two gay characters, and I wanted to create a world rich enough that you could get lost in it—a world you would want to live in.
What is your writing style? Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?
My style varies per each book, I think. Before any book though I sit down and create multiple outlines. Depending on the book, I may also create notes, character sheets, diagrams, and so forth.
Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing when you are blocked?
My roommate, Laney. I just have to talk to her and I can work out my problems for a story. Music wise, I’m heavily inspired by Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin, and 30 Seconds to Mars. I listen to them a lot when I’m doing fight scenes. But all kinds of music inspires me, depending on the story.
How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?
10: 5 published, 1 slated for release, 1 beginning the editing stages with my editor, and 2 that I’m currently working on. Then of course there are all the ideas that I have bouncing around in my head, demanding attention.
Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about there writing that captures your soul?
F. Scott Fitzgerald made me want to write. Diane Wynne Jones and Neil Gaimen made me want to write fantasy.
What is you favorite plot line type?
Fantasy. I love, love, LOVE fantasy. So much. I love creating worlds. I also love horror and action. Fight sequences are so fun to write.
Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?
I know they always say it, but never give up. You don’t have to write every day. You don’t have to read every day. But if you want to write, and I mean if you truly want to write and be published, you can’t give up. You have to harden your skin against rejection, accept that what you write isn’t going to be perfect and that there’s a chance someone has done it better, and continue to pursue your dreams. Hold them close and don’t let anyone extinguish the flame.
What is a good villain?
Someone that makes you feel. Anyone can do a bad thing. A villain is someone that does a horrible thing and you feel for it. You feel for them. You feel for the victims. You’re torn between jeering him/her and cheering him/her. He/She has as many dimensions as the protagonist. An in depth character with flaws, a past, and a drive.
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Genre: Paranormal; Suspense; LGBT
Series: Theo Bourne; Previous Book: One Bad Day; and Event Horizon
Theo and Carlos are called out of vacation when a madman called the Bogeyman begins to butcher small children. It's a race against more than the clock as a third victim is abducted. The FBI has stepped in to put an end to the terror that has seized Columbus, but with very few clues to go on, Theo and Carlos are left scrambling for answers. Rhett Bishop just might be the help they've been looking for, but it comes with a price - one Theo isn't sure is worth paying.
The deeper they delve into the bloody massacre rocking Columbus, the more things spin out of control. Theo struggles with his own crippling fears and tries to build the courage to ask Carlos one of the most important questions of his life. But things can never go easy for the two detectives, and as they sort through their case, Carlos begins a battle of his own. A contender has stepped up to take Carlos's place as Alpha of the local werecoyote pack. If Carlos isn't careful, he may lose more than his position as pack leader.
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An Excerpt From: WHITE BONE, RED SKY
Copyright © EVELYN SHEPHERD, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Loose-Id, LLC.
“We just got our bags.” I passed Carlos the keys to my Challenger. I had broken down and traded in my Mustang when it had been on the receiving end of one too many lycanthrope attacks.
“Good. Vacation is over, then. I need you down here at a new scene.”
There was something tight in his voice that made a fist squeeze my stomach until it felt like my airplane pretzels were going to come back up.
“On our way,” I said. Chief rambled off a location and disconnected before I could end the call.
“What’s going on?” Carlos asked as he popped the trunk with the key fob.
“Not sure, but Chief wants us to see a crime scene.” I passed him my suitcase and bag. After we quickly loaded up, I took the keys back and slid into the driver’s seat. My hopes of a shower and bed were blown away with the exhaust as I peeled out of the parking lot.
Carlos and I were partners on the Columbus Police Department’s Preternatural Task Force, or PTF for short. The supernatural have lived among us as legal citizens for years now. It was my and Carlos’s job to investigate any crimes that arose among the arcane dark side of Columbus.
It worked for us because we each had our own ties to the inhuman. Carlos was the leader of the local werecoyote pack, though at the moment, his standing was a bit shaky. I was a Phantom, a human with the combined powers of telekinesis and bilocation. Creating doppelgängers was my specialty.
“Well, the break was fun while it lasted,” Carlos said as he leaned his seat back. I reached over and patted his thigh encouragingly. It would have been nice to ease back into work, but there was never rest for the maleficent.
I got on I-670 and worked my way west, making a loop to I-70. The interstate was dead this late on a Wednesday night, giving me clearance to test how high the gauge on my speedometer could go.
Carey Wayland Elementary, where Chief had asked us to meet him, was just off Livingston, two blocks down from the High Street intersection. I coasted to a stop behind a police car and cut the engine. The crime scene was crawling with officers. A perimeter had been set up around the school, blocking a few curious bystanders from treading on the evidence.
The fist around my stomach clenched into a vise. I had an inkling that whatever was beyond the police tape was something I didn’t want to see. I grabbed the keys and pulled myself out of the car. Carlos followed behind me as I approached the tape and slid my badge out.
Like my gun, I always kept my badge on hand. I had secured both Carlos’s gun and mine in a lockbox and brought them with us to Madrid. I never knew when the shit would hit the fan, and the bad guys didn’t care if we were on vacation.
“I’m Detective Bourne, and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez,” I said to the officer standing watch. He glanced at my badge and lifted the tape for us.
The school’s playground had a ten-foot, chain-link fence wrapped around it. Spotlights had been set up at various points, illuminating the crime scene with a harsh fluorescent flood. Police lights spilled across the pavement and over the rusted swing set and jungle gym, which looked like they dated back to the nineties. A stifling breeze rattled the swing chains.
We were just about to head into July, and the summer so far had been anything but merciful. Even after two weeks of being gone, none of the humidity had abated. Sweat had already begun to form along my back. My black T-shirt clung to me like a second, soggy skin.
“Bourne, Ramirez!”
Chief Pratt waved us over to a tall slide. Chief was a cross between a walrus and a boar: heavy on the Italian and horns. Over the years, his hair had thinned out and left him with a laurel of steel hair. He puffed on his cigarette like a steam engine and talked around the cancerous stick in his mouth.
“It’s about time you showed your asses.”
“Sorry, next time I’ll try not to be on vacation,” I said and turned to the cadaver. After years of solving grisly murders, it was natural to keep my game face on, but it never made it easier to see the victims. The acid in my stomach soured in the summer heat, even though there wasn’t the usual tang of blood that lingered around cadavers. Of course, that didn’t mean the scene wasn’t any less violent.
A girl, Caucasian and no older than ten, was stretched out along the bottom of the slide, her arms crossed over her chest. Her hands had been removed at the wrists, and her skin had taken on the ashy pallor of death. Her eyes stared blindly up at the sky, searching for a hope that had been too late.
“Shit,” I heard Carlos hiss behind me. I held my hand out and took the set of latex gloves Chief passed me.
“Has she been photographed?” I asked. With a snap, I slid the gloves on and crouched beside the body. “So who is she?”
Chief nodded. “Stacy Markegarde, age ten. She was reported missing a week ago by her father after she didn’t come home from gymnastics class.”
I ran a finger along the incision on her wrist. The skin was slightly puckered and shriveled back, like it would be from a burn, but otherwise the incision was clean. I could see the bone and muscle of her arm. The muscle had dried to a reddish brown, and I watched as a june beetle crawled across the tendons. I brushed it off and continued my examination up her body. As I lifted her arms, I noted they had begun to stiffen.
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I started writing really young, but didn’t pursue it as a career choice until a failed attempt at pursuing a degree in criminology. Now I’m a full fledged writer. My works include the Theo Bourne Series and The Meteora Trilogy. My story I Am Here has been nominated for an EPICon Award in horror.
www.evelynshepherd.com
www.sheblindedmewithmagic.tumblr.com
https://twitter.com/eveeshepherd
1 comment:
Thanks for having me!
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