An interview with Steven Donahue
Today the polite wordsmith Steven Donahue is put under the grill light. Enjoy!
JJ: When did you start writing?
SD: In high school I started writing a book about an NFL
quarterback who was ambidextrous. I thought that ability would give a
quarterback an edge. However, the story never fully came together.
JJ: What was the first story you remember writing?
SD: In seventh grade, I wrote a short story about a hero
battling an evil warlord. I based the villain on my Social Studies teacher and
handed it in as an assignment. The teacher wasn’t amused.
JJ: What genre is your most preferred?
SD: Science fiction.
JJ: What challenges you the most in your writing?
SD: Finding the time and the quiet place to write.
JJ: What is your favorite thing about being an author?
SD: The immense satisfaction I feel when I finish writing a
new book.
JJ: What do you like least about being an author?
SD: The intense marketing efforts required by today’s
writers. Unless you are signed by a major publisher, most of the marketing is
left up to you.
JJ: How many books do you currently have available?
SD: Four:
Amanda Rio
Amy the Astronaut and
the Flight for Freedom
The Manila
Strangler
Comet and Cupid’s
Christmas Adventure
JJ: What projects are you currently working on?
SD: A historical novel about the Holocaust.
JJ: Which book, or series, is your favorite?
SD: The Catcher in the
Rye. I know
that sounds clichéd, but it is a phenomenal book. Sadly, I think it’s the only
good book Salinger ever wrote.
JJ: Who are some of your favorite authors?
SD: Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Earnest Hemmingway, Arthur
C. Clarke. Matt Christopher was my first favorite. His sports books made me
want to become a writer.
JJ: Which book(s) inspire you the most?
SD: I love short stories, especially those by Bradbury,
Asimov and Hemmingway. They are like mini masterpieces.
JJ: Do you listen to music when you write? If so, what
band(s) do you play?
SD: I write best in a silent room, which is very difficult
to do in a small apartment with my wife, our two dogs and our cat.
JJ: Tell us some more about yourself including your website
and where we can find you on social media sites:
SD: I was a copywriter for TV Guide magazine for 14 years.
My first novel, Amanda Rio, was published in 2004. It has
received critical acclaim from reviewers for Amazon.com and thebestreviews.com.
I currently reside in Bucks County,
PA with my wife, Dawn. I love
football, and I am a huge Philadelphia Eagles fan.
Below are links to my social media sites.
JJ: Care to share a bit of one of your books with us?
SD: From Amy the
Astronaut and the Flight for Freedom:
Amy Sutter tightened her grip on
the yoke as she stared at the monitor on the console. Sixteen oval-shaped,
purple objects dotted the screen. She took a deep breath, targeted one of the
alien ships and fired her first missile. The enemy craft exploded and created a
fireball that destroyed the ship beside it. Amy smiled and wiped some sweat
from her forehead. The other ships began firing missiles at her as she turned
the Liberty Bell to the right and dove hard toward the surface of the planet
below. A proximity alarm sounded behind her as the missiles flew over the top
of her ship. Amy then pulled back hard on the yoke and lined up her next shot.
She waited until the enemy fleet
got closer before she fired the laser cannons mounted on the outside of her
150-foot long spacecraft. She obliterated two more vessels before the Liberty
Bell took a direct hit of laserfire on the portside wing. The shielding held
but the concussion of the blow caused Amy to smack her head against the
console. Thankful she was wearing a helmet, Amy shook off the momentary
dizziness and tried to line up another shot. Before she could, three more laser
blasts wiped out her cannons. Two more blasts caused another alarm to blare.
Amy looked at the console and saw that her life support systems were failing.
However, her engines were still online. She sent out a distress call as the
enemy ships started to surround her. She then steered the ship away from the
fleet and initiated the Sprint
Drive system. The Liberty Bell bolted through a
gap in the enemy’s formation and the crafts disappeared from the ship’s radar
as they fell far behind the spaceship.
Amy let out a sigh and quickly
searched the digital maps for a suitable planet to land on. Before she could
find one, the Liberty Bell began to violently shake. The temperature inside the
cabin shot up. Before she should shut down the Sprint Drive, Amy heard a loud explosion
behind her. Then all of her instruments stopped working and the cabin grew
dark.
The exasperated pilot unbuckled her
safety belt and flipped a switch on a side panel. The door over her head opened
and the twelve-year-old girl climbed out of the simulator and down a ladder to
the concrete floor. She took off her helmet and looked at her reflection in a
small window on the simulator. She brushed back a lock of her dark brown hair
and saw a welt forming over her right eye. Amy shook her head and smiled at her
clumsiness. “Serves you right for sneaking in there,” said a voice behind her.
Amy turned around and saw Lt. Yale Brown marching toward her. The officer had a
clipboard in her hand and a relaxed look on her face.
Amy shrugged. “I got four of them
this time,” she said. “Then the Sprint
Drive exploded as I was getting away.” She handed
the helmet to the lieutenant and walked with her toward the equipment storage
room. Around them other pilots were training for various missions, while
security officers stood guard at the building’s four entrances. Amy glanced at
the busy soldiers and noticed their tense expressions.
“You can’t trust that engine,” said
Yale. “They haven’t perfected it yet.” At 5’10”, the twenty-eight-year old
woman towered over her young friend. Yale’s frame was lean and strong as a
result of her military training and her short blonde hair fit neatly under her
green cap. She wore a camouflage shirt and matching pants, standard issue for
Union soldiers, and no makeup. Her light green eyes had a tendency to change
colors in differently lighted rooms.
They reached the door to the
storage room and Yale unlocked it by running a blue key card with a magnetic
strip along a black keypad. Amy followed the lieutenant into the room and
watched Yale tuck the helmet on a shelf next to other flight gear. Then she
turned to face Amy. “Should I even bother asking how you got into the machine?”
she asked. She put her hands on her hips and smiled.
Amy reached into her pocket and
pulled out another blue key card with a magnetic strip. She waved it in front
of Yale’s face. “Just got to have the right tools,” she said. Yale glared at
her and yanked the card out of the girl’s hand. The lieutenant stuffed the card
in her shirt pocket and pointed to storage room door. “I’m going, I’m going,”
said Amy. The girl tiptoed past her friend and watched the lieutenant lock the
door.
Yale chastised the guards on duty for letting Amy slip past
them, before she handed another officer the clipboard. Then she escorted the
girl out of the facility and they walked side-by-side toward the adolescent’s
living quarters.
The crisp morning air was a
delightful change from the normally arid atmosphere on Paldor, a small hot
planet just outside the Milky Way. The Sutter family resided in building 400, in
one of the more elegant homes in the 23 square-mile Pioneer Settlement.
A fighter jet flew overhead. Amy
squinted at the tail markings for Earth’s Union Defense Fleet. She thought
about their ongoing war against the Crownaxians, an alien species that no surviving
human has ever seen. The highly intelligent warriors attacked a human
settlement on the planet Blaros. More than 3 million people were killed in the
attack and eight years later the human death toll had skyrocketed past 29
million, with no end in sight.
