Marla Machado-Arce

Today's Author Talks is with the talented Marla Machado-Arce! Be sure to connect with this fabulous author on social media! Her links are at the bottom of the interview! 

Tell me a little about yourself:

Ok, that's a loaded question.  I'll try to keep it as short and sweet as possible.  I'm first generation Cuban-American, both my parents were born in Cuba and came to this country in their twenties.  I'm 41 married with a daughter and a dog, I currently live in NC just outside of Asheville.  I was born in New York City in October of 1977.  The Yankees were in the World Series, David Berkowitz had been terrorizing the city for the summer, and Charlie's Angels was the big thing on TV.  As legend has it, it took my parents a week to name me.  My dad wanted to name me Farrah, my mom was having none of it, I believe Laura and Teresa were bandied about.  Ultimately, they settled on Marla, because my mom's boss at the time had a daughter named Marla and my godmother, who claimed not to want to be my godmother but really wanted to be my godmother, suggested Marla and it stuck.  Yup, Marla Machado is my real name.  I'm an only child, I lived in NJ just across the river from Manhattan until I was 22 when I moved to Florida.  I met my husband within 2 months of living there and we've been together ever since.  Last year we packed up our life and moved to North Carolina.

I always had a pretty vivid imagination growing up, I suppose because I had to learn to entertain my self.  I'm a product of Catholic school who learned to love books at a very early age.  I'm still best friends with the kids that I grew up with in my neighborhood.  My sense of humor is pretty dry and sarcastic.  I'm pretty sure I was British in a past life and I'm a complete anglophile.  I love to travel and one day, soon hopefully I hope to travel to the UK.  Otherwise I'm pretty tame, I spend time with my daughter and husband.  

What inspired you to be an author?

 I never set out to write a book, that had never ever been a goal of mine.  I've loved reading since I was very young, being an only child leaves you with a lot of time on your hands.  My first books were the Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High books.  I read my first romance novel when I was 14 and I never looked back.  2012 was a pretty rough year in our family, my father in law was diagnosed with lung cancer and passed away with in six months, my mother in law and brother in law moved in with my husband and me, and life was pretty chaotic for about a year and half.  One night I was about half a bottle of wine deep and my mind started wandering and the characters in my first novel, The Road Back, started talking to me.  And they wouldn't leave me alone.  So I wrote down what was in my head and I gave it to some friends to read.  And they loved it and wanted more.  So I wrote more and more until finally I had finished my novel.  And that is how I ended up writing my first ever book.  My second novel, The Road to Forever, is part of the series and features peripheral characters from my first book.

Is writing your full time job? If not, what else do you do and how do you juggle both?

It is not, I have a full time job in addition to my jobs as wife and mother.  I do a lot of writing in my head and then when I have a chance to write it down I put it down wherever I can and then eventually I get to my computer and put it in my book.  That's why it takes me so long to write my books.  In my head though I'm always writing.  It's hard finding a balance.  Sometimes I'll get an idea that I can't not put down at the moment and if I'm home I'll run into my office and put it down.  

How many stories have you written? (You can include published and non published works)

I've written 2 and a half, I'm almost finished with my second novel, The Road to Forever, and I started writing a spinoff novella.  It's still very much a work in progress and I'll go back to it eventually.  I also have very loose out lines for the last two books in my Road series and ideas for another 4 book series I plan on writing. 

What is your writing process? 

I have to have an idea and characters that speak to me.  I tend to put a lot of my self in my characters and so they need to have some substance.  I start talking to them, and I think to myself, would I be friends with this person?  Could I be or would they irritate me after a while.  If I could be friends with them then I start to develop their personality and I take something from the people in my life and those characters become a hodgepodge of the people I love.  Once I have the characters then I have the story.  

Where do your ideas come from?

My ideas can come from literally anywhere.  I can be scrolling through Facebook and see a headline and then boom a story will appear, or I'll be people watching and start concocting a story in my head from just watching them.  Sometimes I draw from the experiences people in my family have had.  

What’s the best way to market your books?

Lately I've been using Twitter and Facebook a lot.  As an indie author you have to be your own biggest advocate and you have to be shameless about promoting yourself and your work.  Bloggers are a great source for marketing.  I've sent out copies of my book to bloggers and some fellow authors.  Reviews are a great way to help you market yourself.  You just have to push and push and push.  And be relentless.

What is your writing Kryptonite?

When I can't make the story flow.  I hate when I'm reading a book and the author jumps around and what I'm reading doesn't make sense.  So if I'm re-reading something I've written and the story doesn't flow or jumps around that takes me out of my writing and I can't continue until I know how I'm going to make go from point a to point b in a way that makes sense.

What advice do you have for other aspiring authors?

Write what you love.  It's the only way you are going to make your story good.  If you write what you think people will like you will end up with something subpar.  I love trashy romance novels, so that's what I wrote.  If I love it there are other people that love it.  So if you love dystopian fantasy, then write that, if you love stories about vampires or zombies then write that.  I promise you, your passion for that thing you love will come through in your writing.  

What authors inspire you?

That's a long list.  My first author that I read relentlessly was Johanna Lindsey.  I love Kat Martin, Julie Garwood, JR Ward, James Patterson, Janet Evanovich, Julia Quinn.  Also I love indie authors, Abbi Glines, Aurora Rose Reynolds, Autumn Jones Lake, Meghan March, Jamie McGuire.  There are few indie authors I'm friendly with on Twitter, they inspire me because we're all in the same boat and we commiserate and help each other.  Just recently an author friend used my book for some inspiration for her current work in progress and it was the best feeling when she told me I had inspired her and she was able to keep writing.

Fiction or non-fiction? Which is easier? 

Fiction, for sure fiction.  Because it doesn't have to be based in reality. 

What are you currently working on? 

I'm almost finished with my second full length novel, The Road to Forever, it's the second book in my Road series.  There will be two more books and possibly some spin off novellas.

And before you go, is there anything else you'd like to say to our readers?

I'd like to say thank you for reading this interview.  I appreciate your time and if you've read my book I'd love to hear from you.  If you have read me, thank you, thank you, thank you. You can reach out to me on Facebook or Twitter or on my email.  

Can you leave us with an excerpt from one of your projects/novels?

This an excerpt from The Road Back:

The knock on the door startled me. It was unexpected. I’d only been home twenty minutes. I was more than just a little annoyed, since I had been looking forward to the quiet. Four precious hours of silence. My four-year-old twin girls, Kyle and Kate, were at preschool, giving me a much-needed break. I’d give my life for them, but anyone who has small children in any incarnation knows how precious silence can be. Jason, my husband, had kissed us all goodbye hours earlier and headed off to work. I was aggravated with him since today would have been his day off. We had argued over the change in plans last night, but he had agreed to cover a friend’s shift and there was no getting out of it. He’d tried to explain why, but I’d shut him down. We’d planned this for weeks, and I was pissed. I was supposed to be getting my hair and nails done. I was long overdue for some highlights and a manicure and pedicure. Jason had agreed to take the girls to school so I could get some much-needed “me” time, hence the source of my irritation with him. I needed to recharge.

We’d decided two things after the twins were born, that my factory (i.e., my uterus and vajajay) was closed for business and that I’d stay home to raise them. I’d never been the stay-at-home mom type, and some days I questioned my sanity at agreeing to quit my job - a job that I loved and had worked very hard to get. Jason pled his case and I caved, mostly because I found it nearly impossible to say no to him, but partly because I’d wanted that bonding time with my babies. I also suspected the massive amount of hormones blasting through my system at the time had played a part in my eager capitulation. Also, Jason’s career was on the fast track and we didn’t need my income. He’d also agreed that I would get “me” time.

I frowned, remembering the argument from last night again. He’d been texting me on and off throughout the morning with apologies, and I had ignored him. He was sooooo going to owe me. I usually have a hard time staying mad at him, but today was the exception to the rule. Damn it. He promised I would have the morning to do what I wanted. The more I thought about it, the angrier I was getting.

The knocking on the door wasn’t stopping. In fact, whoever was there was getting more persistent.

I really considered not answering, but the knocker was determined and clearly not going away. I guessed I would have to deal with whoever was at the door so I could get my couple of hours. But the closer I got to the door, the more I realized something wasn’t right. Through the door’s side panel, I saw Ian, Jason’s partner and best friend, and Jason’s commanding officer standing behind him. My pulse sped up, and my hands started getting clammy. No, whatever they were here to tell me wasn’t good at all. I gripped the door handle and forced myself to open the door.

“Karina,” Ian started.

I stopped him and shook my head. I didn’t want to hear what he was going to say.

“Karina, let us come in,” he said more forcefully.

I stepped back and they filed past me into the living room. Everything had gone eerily quiet, and I could only hear the blood pumping in my ears. Their faces were grim. Ian’s eyes were red. I could tell he had been crying. Again, not a good sign.

“Karina, there’s no easy way to say this,” Ian started.

“Just spit it out Ian!” I snapped. I couldn’t take the anticipation. My north eastern upbringing and bluntness came to the fore. It was my defense mechanism. I automatically fisted my hands and set them on my hips. Half the time, I didn’t even realize I was doing it. Jason called it “the cut-and-run stance.” He’d told me on more than one occasion that when he saw me standing like that, it was better to cut and run and come back when I was in a better mood.

“Karina, there’s no easy way to say this,” he repeated.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He took a deep breath as if buying himself more time.

My world shattered at his next words. “Jason’s dead. He was shot this morning while executing a search warrant.”

I heard the words but refused to believe him. I shook my head. He started toward me, and I backed up. I didn’t want to hear any more. It can’t be true, I thought. It’s not true.  He promised me he’d never leave me or the girls. Ian is lying, I know he is.  For God’s sake, he has to be.

“Karina,” Ian started again as he reached out for me.

That was when I snapped. I slapped him hard across the face, and I realized I was crying. I heard sobbing and realized it was me. I was desperately trying to drag in a breath, but I couldn’t seem to make my lungs work. My legs gave out from under me, and Ian caught me. I sobbed harder. How can this have happened? I tried to wrap my brain around what had happened and couldn’t. Then everything went black.

When I came to, I was on the couch. I didn’t know how I got there or how long I’d been there. I was numb. I heard muted voices. I thoughtmore people had arrived. When I looked around, I saw the wives of other cops we were friends with. When did they get there? I knew what theywere thinking: thank god it was not them. They’d be saying silent thank-you’s tonight before bed, kissing their husbands a little more, and hugging them tighter tonight. Tonight, for them, everything was okay. They were not mad at their husbands, because today they just got a dose of reality; a huge dose that most of us buried on a daily basis when our husbands went off to work.

Something spurred me to action, and suddenly I was moving. I looked at my watch and realized I had to pick up the girls. I thought, Oh God, my babies. How will I make them understand?

“I have to pick up the girls.” I stood up from the couch. Everyone turned to me, staring like I had just grown an extra head. I stared back. Turning, I saw Hannah, my sister, come over to me. Her eyes were red and puffy. That was when I saw Kyle and Kate. They were already home. How long had I been out of it?

I looked at the girls. They were looking at me so innocently, and I realized I had to break their hearts. They were most definitely Daddy’s girls. Fraternal twins, they were as different as night and day - in temperament and looks. Kyle was brown haired and blue eyed with her round face and cupid bow lips, so much like Jason. And Kate took after me with her strawberry-blonde hair and brown eyes. Her face was longer, more angular than Kyle’s, but strangely, their lips were exactly the same. Jason and I used to joke that we each got one to look like us, thus negating the need for more kids.

“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Kate asked me softly in her baby voice. She knew something was wrong. They both did. I struggled not to cry, as I knelt down to look them in the eyes. I gathered them close and inhaled their sweet baby smell. I sat on the floor and crossed my legs, oblivious to the prying eyes around me. I sat them on my lap, Kyle on my right and Kate on my left.

I didn’t know how the words came, but finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they came. “Girls, you know how Daddy is a police officer and his job is to protect people?” I was alternately looking at one then the other. They nodded, and I continued. “Today, Daddy had to go protect heaven, and now he’s with Jesus and the angels.”

“When is he coming home, Mommy?” Kyle asked, confusion coloring her statement.

Tears pooled in my eyes and overflowed down my cheeks, “Oh, baby, he’s not coming home.”

I was spent. I could not talk more. Hannah took the girls up to their room, and I was alone again. Someone - I think Ian - helped me up. Time seemed to stop and speed up at the same time.

Author Links:

Facebook - www.facebook.com/marlamachadoauthor

Twitter - @marla_arce

Email - mmachado77@gmail.com 

Good Reads - Marla Machado

Blog - marlamachado.wordpress.com