Ask the Author: Scarlet D'Vore
Answered Questions (10)
Scarlet D'Vore
Are you freaking kidding me?
Game of Thrones.
A cruel world without modern day amenities that still possess the shrills to keep you peeping over your shoulder for that incoming proverbial jagged sword?
A world where 'loyalty' is the ultimate afrodesiac and constant betrayal, open deceit, and true hostility are mixed with black sorcery, delivered in an eerie state of weird normalcy?
The brutal acts of its cruel characters and the authenticity of their shameless intent is identical to the earth today, only instead of a SS Camaro with its V8 engine, pissed-off flying breathing reptiles rule the streets.
What would I do there as a cute, sexy female looking to be on top? Hell, backstab both men and women at every turn then seduce my way to the throne and its jewel encrusted crown.
After all, all is fair in lust and battle. So, my perverted actions would be seen as not only shrewd and acceptable, but also very impressive.
Game of Thrones.
A cruel world without modern day amenities that still possess the shrills to keep you peeping over your shoulder for that incoming proverbial jagged sword?
A world where 'loyalty' is the ultimate afrodesiac and constant betrayal, open deceit, and true hostility are mixed with black sorcery, delivered in an eerie state of weird normalcy?
The brutal acts of its cruel characters and the authenticity of their shameless intent is identical to the earth today, only instead of a SS Camaro with its V8 engine, pissed-off flying breathing reptiles rule the streets.
What would I do there as a cute, sexy female looking to be on top? Hell, backstab both men and women at every turn then seduce my way to the throne and its jewel encrusted crown.
After all, all is fair in lust and battle. So, my perverted actions would be seen as not only shrewd and acceptable, but also very impressive.
Scarlet D'Vore
Although I have focus the majority of my time on my own works, there are several books on my radar. Thank God my sorority gal pals cherish the written word just as much as I do.
1. The Lucky Ones by Julianne Pachico - who doesn't like a story of complex women, plus word is the author's voice is freakin' amazing!
2. Exit West by Moshin Hamid - I hear the backdrops really pulls you in to a gritty and ecliptic world.
3. Waking Gods by Sylvain Neuvel - self-explanatory and yet so much more, I'm told.
4. How To Murder Your Life by Cat Marnell- comes highly recommended, especially if your life is an absolute wreck sometimes.
There are more, not to mention what may come through the pipeline later on so I think it's going to continue to be an entertaining 2017!
Hug a writer today.
- Scarlet
1. The Lucky Ones by Julianne Pachico - who doesn't like a story of complex women, plus word is the author's voice is freakin' amazing!
2. Exit West by Moshin Hamid - I hear the backdrops really pulls you in to a gritty and ecliptic world.
3. Waking Gods by Sylvain Neuvel - self-explanatory and yet so much more, I'm told.
4. How To Murder Your Life by Cat Marnell- comes highly recommended, especially if your life is an absolute wreck sometimes.
There are more, not to mention what may come through the pipeline later on so I think it's going to continue to be an entertaining 2017!
Hug a writer today.
- Scarlet
Scarlet D'Vore
Funny you should asked (not funny ‘haha’ but the other one). My grand-mama, Ada died back in England. It was rough dealings for me, but I’ve since made peace with it (sorta). Anyhoo, me and mom traveled abroad to settle up her affairs and clean out her loft (it was less than a penthouse, yet more than a shanty, like ones you’ve seen on the original Shameless TV series). We’re cleaning, boxing and even discarding and as I walked her living room floor I kept hitting a certain spot that had an awful creak.
Finally, I felt a strong need to screw with it, more out of emotional frustration than to resolve an issue, and when I yanked back the throw rug and fiddled with the source of my anger, the hardwood piece came loose. WTF? Underneath was a hidden cubby; a secret stash and there were personal items inside it. Not illicit drugs mind you … wait, is Marijuana an illicit drug? Oh … never mind. Let’s just say she had some goodies tucked away. Goodies that were of both questionable legality AND gave you the munchies after you inhaled it … in a cigarette-like form … with fire at the tip. I also unearth an old ratty diary. I was intrigued because I never knew that grandma was a writer.
I check out her most inner thoughts and was floored by the heavy amount of four letter words and other deviant ‘tid bits’ that were on her mind, most of the day. Needless to say I will never look at Sexpot the same way again. But beyond that I found five cool-looking symbols, a serial number and a set of telephone digits on the middle page, and it stuck out like a sore thumb, in the midst of very descriptive adjectives (that woman needs her mouth washed out with soap for more than one good reason!)
Uh. Okay. What’s this? I couldn’t figure out the weird symbols that looked like ancient hieroglyphics and Google was no help. Mom didn’t have a clue either. I decided to call the telephone digits, yet when I did it just rung... and rung … and rung, with no recorded greeting to leave a message. Maybe they were friends. Maybe they hadn’t heard she passed … maybe they could shed some like on my findings. I kept the diary and snapshot the rest on my iPhone 6 and I tried calling the number later that evening and this time there was a recorded beep on the first ring. So, I left a heartfelt, but semi-generic message about Sexpot, being I had no idea who I was leaving the message for. The next day, I called once more, figuring I’d be forced to let it go and move on and I swear on my life the damn phone digits were disconnected.
WHOA!!
I accepted the dead end, buried Sexpot, her horny and unique secrets, put her stuff in storage, washed my hands thoroughly and returned to the states.
About a month later I received a letter without a return address. It was sent from Cannes, France. Inside the thick manila envelope was a host of U.S currencies, and a short note attached.
It read as followed:
Ada loved you very much, Scarlet. She even bet me Euros that you would find her hidden treasure before anyone else did. Some of the answers you seek are already in your possession (I assumed the diary). Give it time. It might come to you. There is much you do not know about your grandma (no sh^%), and I cannot tell you … yet. This was the last request of Ada. Until we meet again- your truest confidant.
P.S. Don’t lose the diary, don’t show anyone what you’ve found, and don’t spend all of her winnings on PlayStation video games.
Okay. At this time I’m completely bugging out. Who sent me this? How did they get my address? And how dare they tell me how not to spend $3000 of Ada’s windfall. That was a year ago. I haven’t looked at her ratty diary in a minute (think I will tonight), and since I’ve yet to receive any new clues and/or free money my investigation has run ashore. The phone number is no longer disconnected, but all it does is ring … and ring. I told a couple of sorority friends of mine and they offered to assist researching one Saturday evening, if I supplied the booze, but the letter told me not to share, and since my girlfriends drink liquor like an old V8 engine going a hundred miles an hour on the freeway, I’m stuck. But, maybe one day the telephone will be answered and my quest will continue...
Finally, I felt a strong need to screw with it, more out of emotional frustration than to resolve an issue, and when I yanked back the throw rug and fiddled with the source of my anger, the hardwood piece came loose. WTF? Underneath was a hidden cubby; a secret stash and there were personal items inside it. Not illicit drugs mind you … wait, is Marijuana an illicit drug? Oh … never mind. Let’s just say she had some goodies tucked away. Goodies that were of both questionable legality AND gave you the munchies after you inhaled it … in a cigarette-like form … with fire at the tip. I also unearth an old ratty diary. I was intrigued because I never knew that grandma was a writer.
I check out her most inner thoughts and was floored by the heavy amount of four letter words and other deviant ‘tid bits’ that were on her mind, most of the day. Needless to say I will never look at Sexpot the same way again. But beyond that I found five cool-looking symbols, a serial number and a set of telephone digits on the middle page, and it stuck out like a sore thumb, in the midst of very descriptive adjectives (that woman needs her mouth washed out with soap for more than one good reason!)
Uh. Okay. What’s this? I couldn’t figure out the weird symbols that looked like ancient hieroglyphics and Google was no help. Mom didn’t have a clue either. I decided to call the telephone digits, yet when I did it just rung... and rung … and rung, with no recorded greeting to leave a message. Maybe they were friends. Maybe they hadn’t heard she passed … maybe they could shed some like on my findings. I kept the diary and snapshot the rest on my iPhone 6 and I tried calling the number later that evening and this time there was a recorded beep on the first ring. So, I left a heartfelt, but semi-generic message about Sexpot, being I had no idea who I was leaving the message for. The next day, I called once more, figuring I’d be forced to let it go and move on and I swear on my life the damn phone digits were disconnected.
WHOA!!
I accepted the dead end, buried Sexpot, her horny and unique secrets, put her stuff in storage, washed my hands thoroughly and returned to the states.
About a month later I received a letter without a return address. It was sent from Cannes, France. Inside the thick manila envelope was a host of U.S currencies, and a short note attached.
It read as followed:
Ada loved you very much, Scarlet. She even bet me Euros that you would find her hidden treasure before anyone else did. Some of the answers you seek are already in your possession (I assumed the diary). Give it time. It might come to you. There is much you do not know about your grandma (no sh^%), and I cannot tell you … yet. This was the last request of Ada. Until we meet again- your truest confidant.
P.S. Don’t lose the diary, don’t show anyone what you’ve found, and don’t spend all of her winnings on PlayStation video games.
Okay. At this time I’m completely bugging out. Who sent me this? How did they get my address? And how dare they tell me how not to spend $3000 of Ada’s windfall. That was a year ago. I haven’t looked at her ratty diary in a minute (think I will tonight), and since I’ve yet to receive any new clues and/or free money my investigation has run ashore. The phone number is no longer disconnected, but all it does is ring … and ring. I told a couple of sorority friends of mine and they offered to assist researching one Saturday evening, if I supplied the booze, but the letter told me not to share, and since my girlfriends drink liquor like an old V8 engine going a hundred miles an hour on the freeway, I’m stuck. But, maybe one day the telephone will be answered and my quest will continue...
Scarlet D'Vore
Sorry for the short delay. I’ve been a hermit submerged underground, surrounded by large clunks of dirt, a soiled typewriter and multiple torn boxes of blank white paper!
Anyhoo…
To answer your question…
Scarlet & Rhett from the classic Gone with the Wind. Why? Well, since you’ve asked, I truly love the name Scarlet. AND, the historical idea of a much simpler time is quite appealing to me in so many ways. A slower way of life back in those days wasn’t considered boring or a bad thing ... and they somehow made due without Goodreads, giant TV's in Hi Def and the internet!
Not to mention, the notion of a well-dressed young stud (pencil mustache is a sexy bonus) swooping me up in his heated embrace and demanding I acknowledge his heartfelt affection (in a non-violent, non-aggressive way mind you) turns my ‘call me maybe’ into a definite ‘hells yeah!’ and is utterly intoxicating to my beating heart.
Elizabeth Bennett & Mr. Darcy from Pride & Prejudice. Honestly, who doesn’t like the memory of having a romantic ‘meet-greet’ with that special someone. I consider myself a real woman like Izzy with like-minded traits passed down, secret passions anxiously waiting to be uncovered, and a long list of lofty expectations. I can literally imagine England, my mum and grand mum’s birthplace, during that traditional period in time, as if I just stepped off a spinning time machine, wearing an emerald colored Victorian dress, missing a white glove and a glass slipper (my red lipstick smeared). I am courting a young fella like Mr. Darcy who is just as charming … and just as irritable if not more so.
And last but not least…
Ron & Hermoine from Harry Potter. First off, Emma rocks! But being a young woman not afraid to get her hands dirty or challenge the status quo is so refreshing. Plus, the chemistry and affection between the pair, though late blooming, is how a true love tale reveals itself, often in real life as much as in fiction. A guy who is sooo not your type, a guy who is awkward when you're around him and still kind of cute in the right light. A guy who overtime makes his way onto your radar then touches your spirit, without you understanding how, or why. I’ve been there before (without the magic wand mind you) and it can be a beautiful treasure when it finally blooms in the sunlight.
I do hope I answered your question, and I am honored you felt compelled to ask. Of course, there are several more that come to mind, but you don’t want me to paint you a novel, do you? ;-)
Sorry for the short delay. I’ve been a hermit submerged underground, surrounded by large clunks of dirt, a soiled typewriter and multiple torn boxes of blank white paper!
Anyhoo…
To answer your question…
Scarlet & Rhett from the classic Gone with the Wind. Why? Well, since you’ve asked, I truly love the name Scarlet. AND, the historical idea of a much simpler time is quite appealing to me in so many ways. A slower way of life back in those days wasn’t considered boring or a bad thing ... and they somehow made due without Goodreads, giant TV's in Hi Def and the internet!
Not to mention, the notion of a well-dressed young stud (pencil mustache is a sexy bonus) swooping me up in his heated embrace and demanding I acknowledge his heartfelt affection (in a non-violent, non-aggressive way mind you) turns my ‘call me maybe’ into a definite ‘hells yeah!’ and is utterly intoxicating to my beating heart.
Elizabeth Bennett & Mr. Darcy from Pride & Prejudice. Honestly, who doesn’t like the memory of having a romantic ‘meet-greet’ with that special someone. I consider myself a real woman like Izzy with like-minded traits passed down, secret passions anxiously waiting to be uncovered, and a long list of lofty expectations. I can literally imagine England, my mum and grand mum’s birthplace, during that traditional period in time, as if I just stepped off a spinning time machine, wearing an emerald colored Victorian dress, missing a white glove and a glass slipper (my red lipstick smeared). I am courting a young fella like Mr. Darcy who is just as charming … and just as irritable if not more so.
And last but not least…
Ron & Hermoine from Harry Potter. First off, Emma rocks! But being a young woman not afraid to get her hands dirty or challenge the status quo is so refreshing. Plus, the chemistry and affection between the pair, though late blooming, is how a true love tale reveals itself, often in real life as much as in fiction. A guy who is sooo not your type, a guy who is awkward when you're around him and still kind of cute in the right light. A guy who overtime makes his way onto your radar then touches your spirit, without you understanding how, or why. I’ve been there before (without the magic wand mind you) and it can be a beautiful treasure when it finally blooms in the sunlight.
I do hope I answered your question, and I am honored you felt compelled to ask. Of course, there are several more that come to mind, but you don’t want me to paint you a novel, do you? ;-)
Scarlet D'Vore
Honestly, I've been blessed not having to deal with this infectious decease too much lately. Earlier in my writing travels, if a story I thought was an awesome idea lost my interest I'd just trash it by unhooking and throwing it back into the lake in my twisted mind and write something new. Eventually, you get to that point were you go on a writing tear and can't stop writing. That's how it happened for me. I have works I haven't touch in over a year or longer. When I do look at them it will be with fresh eyes and hopefully more wisdom as a storyteller and I'll make those story shine, so it's all good.
Scarlet D'Vore
Being able to create worlds. And it can be as cruel or heartfelt as you wish ... hopefully a bit of both. I get to spend most of my day writing. I can't tell you how awesome that feels. I'm free!!! So don't piss me off or I'll be forced to write a silly world and put you in the middle of it. DUN-DUN-DUUUN!!!
Scarlet D'Vore
The same that was told to me: Write. Write. Write. And write a lot, and often. That is the only way to find your true voice, even if you attend college for writing, even if you're in high school. Structure is something that is learned. Being a writer is something you are. It takes time, but write like it's all going to break open tomorrow. Write like you're being paid to write. Like you can't breathe unless there's a pen, pencil, paper, iPad or Kindle Fire in your hands, dictating your deviant imagination in word form ... and read too, good fiction, bad fiction (hopefully mine isn't what you think of here). Know the difference but write from your heart. Nobody knows anything, and that simply means ignore the haters out there but learn from your failures. You may be the best thing (writer) since slice bread ... even if it's not fully recognized until after you're dead. Sure, you won't get to enjoy it, but your kids are gonna get paid!
Scarlet D'Vore
I'm going over my last two installments to make sure they are the best they can be; both professional-looking and entertaining. But I am also working on my next project called 'Unpregnant'. It's about a civil attorney who is dealing with the woes of becoming a mother, while still persuing her dreams of being a law firm partner and playing with the big boys ... and winning. There's drama, backstabbing and death. At the moment it is about 115k words long, but I have every intention on editing the freak out of it. And just when I think I've gotten it perfect (see what I did there?) I'm sure my awesome editor will come in with her fresh pair of eagle eyes and a literary hatchet and chop the hell out of it until it is lean and mean. And that's cool. She wants to milk the best story out of me (moo). I want to write a damn good story more than an extended one.
Scarlet D'Vore
Music! I find a song or songs that fit my mood or theme, put my itunes on repeat and write the hell out of my story. For instance, I wrote my entire Perfect series listening to one song. Madelyn Bailey, 'Titanium'! This song not only helped me write, it made me write, and write better. The same song literally made me laugh when I wrote to be funny, made me misty-eyed when I wrote to be emotional and down right pissed when I wrote to be a bad girl! Find the song that speaks to you and then listen to you heart ... and write.
Scarlet D'Vore
Being an outsider (60/40) in high school I often dreamed about what it 'd be like to have a life of preferential treatment: perfection. That's where the idea spawned from, yet the harsh realities of real life molded and shaped the structure of my story ... and also brainstorming after finishing a earlier work.
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