Hey Tumblr crew! If you’ve been scrolling for that perfect blend of silky R&B and heartfelt soul, let me put you onto Sophie Marks. She’s the Brooklyn-based artist (originally from South Florida) who’s been dropping gems that feel like a warm hug on a rainy day. I’ve been obsessed since discovering her earlier this year, and with her recent buzz, it’s time to co-create some hype. Let’s draft this post together – I’ll start with a solid outline based on her latest updates, and you can tweak it!
Quick Bio Update (As of July 16, 2025)
Sophie Marks is a Berklee College of Music grad (class of 2018) who’s been honing her craft in songwriting and performance. Influenced by ‘90s R&B legends like Aaliyah and Lauryn Hill, she started releasing music post-grad, evolving from pop-R&B fusions to deeply emotional soul tracks. Now based in Brooklyn, she’s all about vulnerability and groove.
Note on Education: Sophie trained her voice in classical music for nine years at Bak Middle School of the Arts and A.W. Dreyfoos High School of the Arts in Florida. She attended a summer program at Berklee College of Music as a teen, which ignited her passion for songwriting. She ultimately graduated from Berklee in May 2018 with a major in Professional Songwriting and Music Education.
Note on Record Label: Sophie is an independent artist who launched her own brand, Sophie Marks Music, right after graduating from Berklee in 2018. This self-managed approach has allowed her to release music on her terms, including her albums and recent singles.
Recent milestones: - 2021: Finalist in Billboard NXT with her original “River,” and dropped her album Coisa Linda. - 2024: Released LET ME IN, a full album packed with sensual, introspective vibes. - 2025 So Far: Singles like “White Walls,” “Two Steps Back,” and the standout “Easy to Dream” (out June 11, with an official video on June 26 directed by Cole Swanson). She’s hit playlists like Pandora’s Indie R&B (as cover artist!) and collabed with Sinead Harnett on “Boundaries.” - Fresh News: As of July 11, her tracks have racked up over 200k streams in just one month – fans are loving it, and she’s teasing “more to come.” On X, she’s been engaging with fans, replying to viral clips of her music with heart emojis and gratitude. Spotify monthly listeners? Still around 67k, but climbing fast with this momentum.
Her style is pure contemporary rhythm and blues: silken vocals that glide over ethereal sonic landscapes, laced with emotional intelligence that hits deep. Think restrained drums and rhythms that “kill you softly” while building to sublime highs – perfect for late-night vibes.
A Quote from the News: In a 2018 interview with Boston Voyager, Sophie shared her love for songwriting: “I really enjoy lyric writing because the meaning of the song is what matters most and I love writing stories that inspire and resonate with people’s lives and experiences. Music and storytelling bring people across all cultures and sectors of society together as a whole.”
Why She’s My Current Fave
“Easy to Dream” has been on repeat – those poised percussion elements and dreamy lyrics? Chef’s kiss. It’s got that nostalgic soul feel but with modern production that keeps it fresh. If you’re into artists like Jorja Smith or Snoh Aalegra, Sophie will fit right in your rotation. Honestly, I haven’t had this much fun discovering new music since Robyn’s electrifying track 'Electric’ with its infectious energy, and Allie Michelle’s poetic, soul-stirring vibes that blend spoken word with melodic introspection. Her music just pulls you in with that same kind of addictive, feel-good depth that makes you hit replay over and over. I saw this video of Sophie on TikTok, where she sings the main line in her single; I’m so emotionally moved by this performance and soundscape; I perceive her to have great depth to her emotional intelligence. It’s moments like that – her raw, vulnerable delivery – that make her stand out and connect on such a profound level.
Sample X-Style Teasers
Discovery Post: “Just discovered Sophie Marks (@sophiemarks_). Her single 'Easy to Dream’ is an exquisite exemplar of silken vocal timbre and ethereal emotional intelligence. For aficionados of profound soulful melodies, do peruse her work at https://music.apple.com/us/album/easy-to-dream-single/1818947589 🎶✨ #SophieMarks #RnB #NewMusic”
Follow-Up: “Following up on Sophie Marks’ 'Easy to Dream'—the level of self-control in this drum and rhythm track is killing me softly. Such poised restraint in the percussion elevates the soulful narrative to sublime heights. 🎶✨ @sophiemarks_ https://music.apple.com/us/album/easy-to-dream-single/1818947589 #SophieMarks #RnB #NewMusic”
HEY! I’m going to be announcing a bunch of EXCITING STUFF in a Tumblr Answer Time on Tuesday, March 22nd, from 3-4pm EST. These things include a NEW BOOK SERIES!
Ta da. Last night I finally finished up making this print-ready and cleared the pencils and solvent and brushes off my desk and the next time you hear anything about this deck from me will be when the Plan for making it available is final.
Thanks for all the lovely words about it, guys! This was a hugely satisfying project to work on while I was brainstorming on The Raven King.
‘Barbara Moore and Bill Krause at Llewellyn Worldwide inked a world rights deal with Maggie Stiefvater for a tarot card deck and accompanying title. Laura Rennert at the Andrea Brown Agency represented Stiefvater in the deal. Stiefvater
created a few tarot cards to promote the launch of the latest title in
her bestselling Raven Cycle series: book three, Blue Lily, Lily Blue
(Scholastic, Oct. 2014). The cards were given away as prizes to fans,
but Stiefvater was unexpectedly inundated with requests for a full deck.
This deal, Rennert said, was inspired by those requests. Stiefvater
said the cards, originally conceived as appealing mainly to her readers,
“evolved instead into a reflection of the creative life.” The tarot
deck will be packaged with a book, The Raven’s Prophecy Tarot Card,
that describes Stiefvater’s creative process with the 78-card
collection. Rennert said the book will delve into “how she created the
artwork and how it relates to the meaning of the cards and the larger
tarot tradition.”‘
I have a few asks wondering when these are coming out — the deck came out in Sept. ‘15, and you can get them from Amazon/ B&N/ Book Depository/ your indie/ my indie/ etc etc.
Maggie how do you draw eyes that are proportional? To clarify: the first eye looks fine but then the second eye looks like it came flying out of an industrial trash compactor. Are there any tricks to stop this from happening? I'm tired of drawing sideways people
Do you play the guitar? I play the guitar. Not as well as I play other things, but still, I know how to say enough words in guitar to order dinner and find a public restroom. Anybody who has played the guitar for any length of time knows that there are two ways to tune it: you can tune it to the precise notes each string is meant to play (by playing the notes and comparing them to either another tuned instrument or to an electronic tuner) or you can tune it to itself. In the latter, you just tune one of the strings to something sort of like the note it is supposed to be, and then you tune each of the other strings in relation to that first one.
This is how I do proportion.
When I draw, I don’t like gridding or tracing or anything approaching scaffolding, partially because I work on papers that don’t allow for erasing or covering up of any early marks and partially because the more work I do right on the piece of paper before I begin, the stodgier my final piece becomes.
Instead, I start with a well-defined shape: an eye. A tire. Something non-negotiable in form and size. Then I measure all distances from that shape. I tune it to itself. Example.
When I did this drawing of my friend Natalie, I started with her left eye, and then I used that to measure distances as I drew each new component:
I hovered my pencil over that eye to judge distance, then counted to the left. Her right eye was one eye and a bit of change away. The top of the ball of her nostril was a little less than one eye length away. Top of forehead was two and a half eyes away from that original eye.
I also keep general rules of the face in mind:
I want to make sure the eyes are on a level with each other. I want to be certain the nose is centered by taking note of where the nostrils begin in proportion to the eyes. I want to see how the width of the mouth compares to that. Note that the ears are on level with the top of her eyes. Etc. etc.
I keep in mind that the face is a nuanced thing. A deeper shadow on the ball of a nose can make it wider or thinner. Flattening an eyebrow only slightly can improve or ruin a likeness. A shadow beneath an eye can instantly push it deeper in the socket or age the likeness.
Example — I sketched myself the other night. Because it wasn’t for an assignment or commission, I was working fast. Just farting about while listening to the new music that had dropped that day. So I was lazy with my measurements and I drew my eyes too far apart on this stupid sanded suede paper which is utterly unforgiving of corrections. Now, it wasn’t a lot too far apart. But because I was tuning the guitar to itself, I drew my nose too wide, too, and the result was a drawing that was a person who looked a lot like me but wasn’t me.
I couldn’t fix the eye spacing, but I could at least give myself my real nose. It’s a good example of how the slightest of shadows can completely change a facial shape:
In conclusion, eyeballs. Guitars. Imaginary lines. This is the world I live in. Join me.
how did you learn to use colors so well? like when i look at a lot of your drawings things are not the color that they are in reality but they are a color that makes SENSE somehow?
Our minds process shapes based upon light and shadow, not on color, so you can get away with using nearly any color you like as long as it follows the value rules of the image. Swap any midtone for any other midtone: a moderately dark brown can become a moderately dark green. Swap any light value for any other light value: a peach can become a light blue. So on and so forth. As long as you preserve the value structure of object you’re drawing, you’ll preserve the realistic integrity of the form.
That’s not to say your color experiments will be pretty, though. Combine lime green and neon orange and a blue purple in a piece and you’ve got a nightmare image only Nickelodeon could love. Spend some quality time with a color wheel; play around with how the colors affect each other when viewed side by side; poke around with the science of complementary colors. The objective truth that blue and orange knock each other’s socks off might seem like just a fact to memorize, but when you’re actually trying to make some text pop in an illustration piece, you’ll see why The Wonderful Wisdom of the Color Wheel matters.
And finally, it’s important to remember that making colorful art often means not using colors. I have hundreds of colored pencils in my studio space, but I usually use only 20 of them on even my most colorful of pieces. It’s not about using as many colors as you can; it’s about making the colors you do use sing like an old lady’s budgies when you’re trying to sleep.
Two years ago, my friend Robin Wasserman and I were down in
Florida for LeakyCon, and we used our free afternoon to go over to DisneyWorld.
“Let’s go on Space Mountain,” Robin said.
“Isn’t that a roller coaster?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “But it’s for kids. Little kids ride
it.”
I don’t like roller coasters. I don’t trust roller coasters.
I know many of you like them. Bless your dear hearts; may you always live in
interesting times. My philosophy is this: I write books for a living. I live in
the middle of New York City. I get enough thrills and uncertainty and screaming
on a daily basis—I don’t need to seek those things out by riding a glorified conveyor
belt. But I trust Disney. It’s a Quality Product and the rides are pretty okay,
even for someone like me who closed her eyes for a moment when Robin made Dumbo
go up too high.
Space Mountain isn’t just a roller coaster—it is an indoor
roller coaster. It is located inside of a spiky, windowless building. I write
YA—I know a dystopian Murder Dome when I see one. But Disney can get away with
this kind of ghoulish, terrifying structure because it is the land of happiness
and you believe that whatever lurks in the spiky dome must be wonderful because
Mickey.
Along with my confidence in Disney, I was bucked up by the
fact that I had done a little fast-talking earlier in the day and had secured a
special ticket to bypass any line. Space Mountain had the longest line in all
of Disneyworld, so this was the best and most natural place to use our special
pass. I was mad with power.
“Sure,” I said, smiling up at the bright Florida sunshine.
“Why not?”
The pass that let you bypass any line didn’t actually let us
bypass all lines. We were put in a special, shorter line that was still pretty
long. It wound into the depths of Space Mountain, on and on further into the
belly of the thing. People crowded in behind us. My better instincts were
starting to kick in by this point, but we were committed to the idea of riding
Space Mountain because the only way out was through. By the time we got to the
loading deck, I had lost all sense of where we were. We’d been in this
structure for a while, and there was no sense of perspective in terms of
height. The carriages were single-file, so everyone was going it alone. I was
stuck in the front.
Then we moved.
Visually, this is all there is to know about Space Mountain:
it is dark. Very, very dark. The only lights are these neon tube things along
the wall that strobe and are supposed to represent some 1960s version of
zipping through space. I closed my eyes at once, but they pulsed through my
eyelids. Aside from the distant screams, it was quiet at first. A quiet
rollercoster is a bad rollercoaster because the only noise is that gentle tick-tick-tick
as it pulls you up something very, very high. And when you go up up up on a
rollercoaster, it means you are about to go down a long, long way.
Space Mountain ticked-ticked-ticked for a long time.
“I THINK…” Robin screamed to me. I never knew what it was
that she thought, because this is when we went down.
Whoever designed Space Mountain was either too cowardly or
too clever to murder people outright—or perhaps an innocent designer decided to
make mechanized anxiety attack for medical purposes and Disney built it by
accident. If you’ve had such an attack, you’ll understand Space Mountain at
once: you have no idea what is going on, but it is terrifying and you have no
concept of when it will end. It drops, it dips, it tilts you sideways so it
feels like you will fall out, and, as an additional insult to your system, it
shakes. And all the while it STROBES STROBES STROBES so basically your brain
gives up trying to figure out what this thing is and either hits the button for
your pleasure center or the button that says THIS IS WHERE I LEAVE YOU. Time
has no meaning in Space Mountain. You are simply on Space Mountain until you
are not on Space Mountain anymore and it spits you out on the other side.
We staggered off into the gift shop and I grabbed a display
of key rings for support. Robin was ashen.
“That’s not what I remember,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
When I could speak (which was a while later) I said, “That’s
okay. Everything is good now because I am not on Space Mountain anymore.
Whatever I am doing will be okay because at least I’m not on Space Mountain.”
That’s basically how 2015 went for me.
A MEDICAL BADNESS
I’ve discussed my situation a lot in posts and tweets and in
person, but I don’t expect you to keep up with these things. So I will summarize:
I had a medical badness.
If you want the slightly longer version, this is it: I’ve
had a condition for several years that required two surgeries. The condition
itself causes various problems internally that you don’t always know about
until something goes wrong. I’ve had issues with it for about 3-4 years now,
but it wasn’t anything too bad. I
just got very tired and sometimes dizzy and I was suddenly getting sick a lot.
But I was basically sound. I did have a bit of a rocky time recovering from the
first surgery, but it wasn’t anything too extreme.
I went in for my second surgery on November 17th,
2014. That’s the morning I got on Space Mountain. I went in for something that
wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and from the point I woke up in the recovery
room, I was on a weird journey of dips and falls and shakes and I had no idea
what was going on—and neither did the eleven doctors that treated me in 2015,
at least for a while.
The first thing that happened was that I got a
post-operative infection and was hospitalized and treated with many IV
antibiotics. When I was discharged, I never got better. I seemed to get worse. The
early part was the most serious, when my heart rate and breathing were affected.
I was in bed for most of December and January, or I was hospitalized or in the
ER or at the doctor. I was confused some of the time and couldn’t move around
much. My blood tests were coming back with some weird results that didn’t make
any sense. My body temperature went up and stayed up for six months, and every
day I had something that resembled a low-grade flu. The many antibiotics had
ripped up my stomach, so for about two months, all I could really eat was Cream
of Wheat and bananas. I was being checked by many specialists throughout this
period, and many grim guesses were made as to what was going on, including
Lupus, so it really was like an episode of House.
Hospital power stance: sometime in January or February
I was able to stand a bit more by February, which the second
phase hit—that was pain. I also couldn’t control some of my muscles very
well—it was hard to hold up my head or move my arms and hands at points. This
only (and still only) affects a specific set of muscles in my upper body.
March was almost entirely spent in medical testing, and I
mean that literally. By this point, many things had been struck off (including
Lupus) and now I was sent to an amazing neurologist who is famous for his
testing. I spent entire days and weeks in machines and hooked up to electrodes.
I gave vials of blood to anyone who asked, and even to some people who didn’t.
(You’re welcome. Happy birthday.)
I had to give these 20 vials of blood in one go one day, which I did not love. I said to myself, “It’s cool. I’ll just take a picture and I can use it in a post someday.” TODAY IS THAT DAY.
His testing gave the first inkling of what
was going on. What I had apparently looked like multiple sclerosis. It wasn’t.
It was, however, some kind of neurological damage. It was uncovered that my
condition had given me a critical iron deficiency. I wasn’t low—I was empty.
This is why I had been so tired and had been getting sick all the time before
the surgery. This was probably why I got a post-op infection. That had weakened
me. And then an element was introduced that was like the match thrown into the
woodpile. Here, speculation takes over, but my doctors have made a very
educated guess as to what it was. Something was introduced into my system at a
very high dosage, and it attacked my central nervous system. I’m very
deliberately not saying what the thing was, because what happened to me was a
very specific set of circumstances, and I don’t want to tell a scary story
about a common treatment. Things just lined up badly.
March: Wish you were here!
The worst part of this was not knowing what was wrong, and a
lot of the speculation was dark. We really didn’t know what my prognosis was. I
couldn’t really be left on my own for very long, and the trips to the ER were
frequent. But, things began to level a bit. I didn’t get better, precisely, but
I learned how to live with what was happening. A combination of time and
treatment slowly got me back on my feet. At first, the goal was just standing.
Then it was walking out of the building for air. Then to the corner. Then I
could sit at my desk for a bit and try to do a little work. At the end of July,
I managed to get to GeekyCon, where I did my panels and got around with the aid
of a mobility scooter. I was thrilled to go, but I spent a lot of time offstage
feeling pretty ill and trying to get myself together to leave the room again.
We discovered when I got back that my body hadn’t been ready for that level of
activity, and I had several months of fallout. These included some unpleasant
mood swings and fluctuations of my blood sugar and blood pressure. My body was
like a clunky starship that only that one plucky pilot really knows how to fly.
I developed a series of hacks and tricks to get things done. I began to learn
what the various weird signals my body was sending me foretold. I carried
glucose and medication and planned for the dips and the pain.
In late November, an additional medication was added to my
regime that made a huge difference. My body seemed to level out quite a lot,
and my level of daily pain dropped drastically. Some of the mental fog cleared
up, as did some of the mood swings. On occasion, I have pain free days! And the
pain now, while not great, is not as mighty as it was earlier in the year.
In the last few weeks, there have been more spaces than
rough patches. I don’t want to speak too soon—but things certainly have gotten
better. And FOR SURE I am not where I was this time last year, when we really
weren’t sure what the future held.
The prognosis is a bit of a question mark. Neurological
damage takes a long time to repair, so the timeline is now in terms of years,
not months. But! I am managed very well. I take medication four times a day,
and that keeps the worst of it at bay. (If I miss a pill, I know it.) I am
largely VERY functional now. I can do almost all the things I did before—I just
have to be careful not to overdo it.
WHAT IT ALL MEANS
Why am I writing this? Why am I telling you this tale of
woe? BOO HOO HOO.
Well, I’m doing it for a few reasons. One is to explain what
the hell happened this year. I didn’t expect this bodily implosion. I had lots
of books on the schedule. I had a book tour and lots of appearances, most of
which were canceled. When I could work, I spent months trying to catch up just
on email and immediate deadlines, and I was slow. I pretty much lost about 80%
of the year, in terms of writing and making things and doing events. At points,
I was unable to read, so I even got behind on that. The stress of being so
behind and so out of it isn’t super helpful when you’re sick for a long time.
Writing sounds like one of those things that super CHILL, but when you get
behind it feels like you’ve fallen off a moving train and are trying to catch
up on foot. It was a huge bummer not being able to make things. I had thoughts
like: EVERYONE WILL FORGET I EXIST AND MY BOOKS WILL TURN TO DUST.
And then I remembered that wasn’t true. Being sick messes
with you. It sucks.
But! It can be pretty useful too. Here are some Things I
Learned In 2015:
1. Whatever you are
at the moment, you’re still you.
Sick you is just as valuable as well you. Don’t let the
mindfog monsters tell you any different. Being sick messes with you. It can be
isolating and reality-bending. I felt that a lot this year. Then I decided it
was sort of the other way around—I really valued when I was with people. I needed them. It’s good to see how kind
other people are. Being more kind became my goal. And it can be reality
EXPANDING. I saw my body in a whole new way. I stopped taking simple things for
granted—and taking things for granted is what gets us into A LOT OF PROBLEMS. Thank
you to the Spoonies out there who helped me learn these things. In the Game of
Spoons: You Win Or You Sleep.
2. Declutter Yourself
I love books about the magic of removing clutter. Getting
sick is a great cleaner. Because I could do so little, I had to hit all the
non-essentials with a flamethrower. I had to take care not to get overwhelmed,
so I took better care with my online habits. If I saw bullshit coming my way, I
said, NO THANK YOU, SIR.
3. No pants, no rules
Goodbye stupid rules! Sometimes I couldn’t walk very well so
I would occasionally roll slowly across the room to get what I wanted and
nobody could say A WORD ABOUT IT. I got a mobility scooter. I ate ice cream for
dinner. I got a whole bunch of free hospital bracelets and Band-Aids. I never
had to wear pants. And when I was able to do things again like go to a grocery
store or drive a car, it was all VERY EXCITING.
4. Pain is just this
thing
There’s no way of comparing pain—we don’t know what anyone
else is feeling. We can only go by what is said. I can tell you that there was
a non-trivial amount of pain this year. It rarely stopped. I had to make
friends with my pain. It was like a bizarre roommate that followed me
everywhere, so I spoke to it. “Come on, Pain,” I’d say. “We’re going to
Walgreens!” “We’re going to write now, Pain.” “Hey, Pain, check it out! There’s
a new episode of Bones!” I visualized my pain as a little monster, not unlike
Animal from the Muppets, and that made me feel a bit affectionate toward it.
Pain is just this thing. It can be horrific and shut you down, but if it
lingers, then you have to make some kind of sense of it. I realized that I
didn’t have to care too much, all the time. Sometimes this was easier said than
done, but you can get pretty far through sheer bloody-mindedness. Sometimes it
may hurt but—hey, sometimes it does.
Pain does have real effects on the brain. Constant pain
leaves a mark. In armchair neurology terms, if you experience pain regularly,
you can build a kind of neural superhighway to the pain center of your brain.
You essentially train your brain to be better at experiencing pain. Conversely,
there are steps you can take to block this progress and reroute the pain impulse.
These are mostly meditative. I practiced daily meditation, which I credit as
the reason I didn’t go bananapants during some of this. There are specific
techniques you can use to deal with long-term pain. I highly recommend You Are
Not Your Pain by Vidyamala Birch. This is not a quick-fix: you have to practice
regularly. But you can change your experience of pain. This is my only “MJ
Recommends!” of this post.
(You may be reading this and have a pain syndrome that is
very severe—I do not mean to suggest anything that diminishes your pain. If you
ARE that person, this is me reaching out and saying, hey! How YOU doing? If you
took a shower, or sat up, or looked at your computer, or whatever—COOL! If
you’re sitting there thinking, “No one gets how stupid and horrible this is.
I’m alone.” Let me tell you—YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I see you. You look awesome. Let’s
have ice cream and stare at the wall together!
5. SO WHAT
So What is the best phrase. It helped in dealing with
anxiety, and it helped with this. I had to accept some of this crap was
happening. I didn’t want it to happen, but it did. Sometimes you have to ride
the ride. So what. You be you.
AND NOW…WHAT I AM
DOING IN 2016
I was writing books and making things when this happened. I
am back doing that! Obviously, there have been delays. I hope you did not
FORGET me, if you KNEW ME AT ALL. And if you don’t KNOW me, maybe you are ABOUT
to.
I am going to be announcing a NEW BOOK SERIES soon, as well
as updated dates on SHADES OF LONDON BOOK 4 and SCARLETT BOOK 3. I am also
making OTHER, SURPRISE THINGS. I do go a bit more slowly, but I also work more effectively
now, so the delay is not SO great.
I will resume ASK AUNTIE MJ here on Tumblr, so you can send
your questions into the Ask box! And if you emailed me, I am sorry if I did not
reply. Again, I’ll be more able to do that in 2016.
At home, I am going to start my physical rehabilitation! I
have not been able to go to the gym or do proper exercise for an entire year. I
will be working with a physical therapist and just VERY CAREFULLY IN GENERAL to
regain strength and control, as well as endurance. I may keep a journal of this
because I predict the journey back is going to be interesting!
I want to thank the many people who have supported me this
year, especially my partner, Oscar, who had to do everything I was unable to
do, which for a while was just about everything. My family helped, as did my
friends—so many friends who sat in hospitals with me, or came to see me, or
carried my stuff. My mother the super nurse ran my entire case file. People like
Nurse Erin from the internet answered DMs in the middle of the night when
things got bad and I didn’t want to freak my mom out any more. The many
messages of support helped—I read them all. Thank you. 2015 showed me how very,
very lucky I am.
And thanks to the makers of PODCASTS, because podcasts got
me through it all.
I have some neurological problems, but okay!
I am coming back in 2016. Expect me.
Suck it, Space Mountain. Mama’s in the gift shop now.
