Interview Q&A – The Colors of Us – A Platinum Chocolate Later in Life Second Chance Romance with author LongTemple

Q1. How much of this is drawn from your life?

A1. Olivia’s life mirrors my own in many ways. My walk away from marriage was my lived experience. Being invisible while doing everything is a painfully lonely existence — worse, in some ways, than what Cinderella endured in the fairytale. At least she had people around her, even if they were unkind. For Olivia, as it was for me, the house itself was empty — just her and a husband she catered to without acknowledgement. His indifferent silence was its own form of torture, and that was enough. I didn’t need to make him monstrous in the story because the truth was powerful already: Olivia was breaking free. And so did I.


Q2. Is there a red line in forgiveness in relationships?

A2. I believe there’s always room for forgiveness — if not for the other person, then for yourself. Forgiveness frees your spirit from the heavy burden of anger and resentment. That said, the line becomes much murkier when it comes to physical abuse. In those cases, safety and self-preservation must always come first. Fortunately, for both Olivia and myself, that wasn’t part of our story.


Q3. Henry David Thoreau said in his Walden that “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Do you believe that?

A3. I do believe that, and I’ve seen it play out. Too many men fall into a kind of complacency — they grow lazy, assuming their companions exist solely to wash their clothes, cook their meals, and keep life running smoothly. Men without vision or drive, men who stop seeing their partners as equals, are the ones I describe in that light. That quiet desperation becomes not only theirs, but something their partners are forced to endure alongside them.


Q4. What is the difference between marriage and a relationship?

A4. For both Olivia and myself, the difference comes down to the legal and financial weight that marriage carries. Marriage brings with it certain securities — financial togetherness, protections for the future, and a sense of binding permanence. In a relationship, two people can certainly build comfort, plan together, and even create financial stability, but in the end, it doesn’t carry the same legal or emotional weight that a marriage does.


Q5. Were the driving lessons meant as a metaphor for the budding relationship?

A5. Yes, absolutely. The driving lessons were both a metaphor and a reminder that at any age, you can learn something new or even rekindle talents you thought were lost. For Olivia, it was more than just driving — it was about trust and growth. Victor’s patience embodied a calm reassurance, showing her that she had the power to do whatever she set her mind to, and that he would be there to catch her if she stumbled.


Q6. Victor has no apparent faults. Did you contemplate giving him some?

A6. I’m glad you asked that because it’s something I hadn’t really noticed — I’ve been writing “perfect” characters, almost like dreaming out loud. So no, I didn’t contemplate giving Victor flaws in this story. But it’s something I’ll keep in mind moving forward in my writing journey, because the truth is, there are no perfect people.


Q7. Was the process different in writing your first book and your second? In other words, what lessons did you draw upon in writing the second?

A7. Oh my goodness, the process was very different. My first book was a short novella, really just a way to get my feet wet — and honestly, it was horrible. But it was worth writing because it showed me exactly where my flaws were. I realized the difference between simply telling a story and truly showing one. Things like visual cues, character development, backstory, setting, and sensory detail were all pretty much missing in that first attempt. By the time I wrote my second book, I knew better — and I was determined to bring those elements to life.


Q8. Did you think about making Olivia’s first husband more of a monster?

A8. Olivia’s husband was already monstrous in his silence — the way he controlled her, surveilled her every move, and refused to acknowledge her presence. That kind of indifference is its own form of torture. What more of a monster could I create than someone who erases you while you’re still alive? Maybe I could have pronounced it more clearly rather than leaving it vague, but to me, that quiet cruelty spoke volumes.