Tuesday, March 13, 2018


Lauren deleted everything- pictures, social media accounts, text messages, her contact list. She was done with technology ruling her life. Already she felt lighter, more in tune with the world around her. She hoped she could convince  her friends to join her.

She went to school;  no one spoke to her. No one looked her way. 

Kylie and their friends stood at  the lockers. Lauren approached them.

“Hey,” Lauren said.

Nothing. She tugged on Kylie’s arm. Kylie shivered. She rubbed her arms.

What the hell? Lauren thought.

Kylie’s phone chirped , and she read the text. She started crying, “Lauren’s gone.”

Friday, March 9, 2018

Tryptophantasia and Other Poems by JM Scott Free on Kindle Through March 12, 2018

 Hey all, Trytophantasia and Other Poems is FREE in all markets through March 12, 2018.

This chapbook contains 30 unique poems. Some are avant garde, some are surreal, some are LANGUAGE type poems, and some are found poems.

Why not grab a free copy today?

Enjoy this sample from the book.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Daughters of New America Coming Soon!

Every so often, I write this poem or story and I feel like it is great. This doesn't happen often because I think I suck. Which bring us to Daughters of New America. It is a series of books more like novellas that follow three teen girls after a world event decimates more than half of the population.

It started with an image of people exploding for no reason. I had the image for awhile and nothing to do with it. After a couple of years of percolation, Bryndle Sweetwater was born. She is Solider Girl. Yet, I found myself enchanted or obsessed (depends on how you look at it) with this world I created for Bryndle.  The one novella grew into three novellas, a poem, and maybe a short story (this one is still percolating).  I feel like these novellas are some of my better stuff. I don't know why I feel this way and to be honest my intuition always leads me astray (it says enter this contest, I have a good feeling about this. I haven't won a contest or been published yet. So much for trusting your gut.)

As I mentioned there are three novellas and they do not have to be read in order. Although I will probably release them in the order I wrote them because I am strange like that. I guess it is some kind of OCD thing.

Here some details of each novella-

Solider Girl- Bryndle Sweetwater is 15 and lives in Nebraska on an army base where her dad is in charge. On the day of the event, Bryndle watches her mother explode before her eyes. There are three people left on the base, Bryndle, her father, and a baby. The problem is Bryndle's father is in charge of some powerful weapons, and a shady general wants them.  Getting rid of the weapons was not easy but essential. They leave for Mapleton a research farming complex in Vermont. It is here Bryndle becomes the strong woman she is meant to be.

Survivor Girl - Holly Biscayne is an 18-year-old homeless girl from Allentown, PA. After the event, she is still running the streets but now a group of people want to kill her because they believe she doesn't belong. She is saved by another a group of people and they move onto Ipswich, NY. After a pregnant girl is taken hostage, Holly finds the strength she never she knew had and puts someone else before her despite loyalty to the group who saved her.

Solitary Girl- Lane is a 16 year old girl from Spring Valley, PA. After the event, she meets Randy at a safe place. A friendship develops and then something more. She is exiled from the safe place while pregnant. Now she must get to Mapleton, to save her baby in this new and dangerous world.

I am about halfway through the first draft of Survivor Girl. I don't have concrete timeline yet, but I am hoping to start releasing in July and ending in September. I cannot wait to share these stories with you.

Till next time...

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Sweet Dreamland Wheels by JM Scott FREE in Kindle Markets Through March 7, 2018

Hey all, I wrote three posts on my blog this week. That almost has to be a new record for me. Anyway, this will be a short post because I was just telling you that Sweet Dreamland Wheels is FREE in all Kindle markets through March 7, 2018.

These were  poems I wrote a few years ago part of the April Poetry Writing challenge sponsored by the former Found Poetry Review. I miss their April poetry prompts.  Many of these poems are experimental, all use some kind of source text to create the poem.

So why not enjoy this sample, and grab a free copy today.

Friday, March 2, 2018

Haystack Odyssey

It's a haystack odyssey wrapped in white plastic lingering in thrashed fields, but there are no animals in sight. One day it a false spring and now crinkly ice patches sleep on the grass that looked like it was starting to turn green again.

It is 9 p.m. and the wind still knocks on the window. I like to pretend I'm in  pioneer times in a little cabin in the woods throwing logs in the fire. I secretly wish the power to go out just for fun since it hasn't went out in awhile. I think to myself that I can survive in a new world. I can shoot a gun, and I don't live near a lot of people. I have a big enough yard to grow stuff even though my green thumb is non existent. I can grow tomatoes. They don't win the blue ribbon, but they are always sweet and juicy. 

As much as I like the wind, I wait for spring and the onslaught of thunderstorms. Thunder so loud, it shakes the old walls and lightening so close, the hair stands up on my arms. I like the storms that can spawn a tornado but never do. And I am lucky for that because even though I have a tornado action plan-  my feet and brain stop working when the touchdown siren goes off. 

It's coffee at night while the wind blows. It's dreaming of living in the middle of the woods. It's dreaming of being a writer that people know. I sit here just thinking when I should be writing because that story is there. I tell it to myself when there is nothing but silence between gusts.

I close my eyes and open them in a haystack odyssey looking for moo cows that hide in overgrown shrubs, and I feel like I should write a poem about this moment but words flee and die in the wind.

Monday, February 26, 2018

Morphine and Shot Guns

When the lateral combat of debris
heaves from their bustling ecstasies
It becomes the rupture-
colloquial and lopsided,

crossbones  shudder
from storm to storm, and scoop
over its deceptive grindstone,

banks of fallacies
chew like greyhounds, their
fermentation dawns threadbare

while the grizzled gospel
of  milky morphine
tiptoe through toothy
acronyms with shot guns.

Thursday, February 22, 2018

Can You Trust the Vision?

I learned not to interfere with the visions- not to change the outcomes. Because it never worked out as Granmama would always tell me. But this one was different.

My adult,  bloodied,  daughter, Jay-Lynee, lay on the road. The knife-wielder  had brown-almost-black eyes and elfish ears. Connor.

Maybe it won’t come true-  my visions are never wrong. 

As I drove home, Conner chased his ball out into the road. He stopped.

I could have stopped; I had plenty of time to stop.

the sun was in my eyes; I didn’t see him.

His five-year-old body broke under my tires.