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downhill slide

My focus the last week or so has been on my upcoming surgery, which means not much writing gets done.  I still try to take at least fifteen minutes to write every day, even if it is a half a poem or the sketch of a story idea.

Every word is a struggle right now, however.  Nothing is moving easily and I’m second guessing myself left, right and center.  I think some of this is likely due to the absolutely horrific state of my office right now.  My office doubles as the spare bedroom, craft room and storage space, and in recent months I’ve all but emptied the closet while looking for things, without putting stuff back into the closet.

The rest of the house is clean, so this weekend, my focus will be on getting the office in shape so that I can write without the clutter.

I expect that the writing will also flow easier after the surgery is over.  I’m not nervous really, though I’m anxious to get it over with now that the decision is made and all of the precursors have been met.

Between here and there stands four days of work (including today) and a weekend of cleaning and laundry.  It’s all downhill from there!

 

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

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kindness matters

The guiding principle that I follow is simple: Kindness Matters.

From the tiny gestures like holding the elevator for someone, or a smile in passing to the bigger gestures like buying coffee or lunch for someone to the grandiose gestures, like paying off someone’s debt or buying someone a car…it all matters.

I try to infuse my life with that kindness, to live each and every day thinking about kindness first.  I started to think this way years and years ago, and with each passing day I get better at it.

I still have unkind thoughts, that’s just human, but when I do, I stop myself and think about what is driving that thought.  Usually, it isn’t because of anything someone else has said or done.  Nearly always it is because I am being cranky.  I generally treat it by doing something kind for someone else.

Funny thing is, it works.

I am a happier person in general since I adopted this notion, since I brought kindness first into my life.  I can’t pay off anyone debts (including my own) in a grand sweeping notion, but I can buy the homeless guy trying to stay dry and warm in the nearly endless rain we’re experiencing now a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich.  I’m not buying anyone a car anytime soon, but I can knit or crochet hats and scarves for people on the street.  I can bake cookies to take to work to share, even though I can’t have any.  I can hold the elevator door for the mother with two toddlers and a stroller and a diaper bag and briefcase on her way to the daycare on the 2nd floor.

I can also accept people for who they present themselves to be, faults and flaws and all, and love them for who they are.  I can offer the people around me the permission to be themselves, wholly and completely simply by being myself wholly and completely.  This is why I generally have no filter.

I am not ashamed of who I am:  Fat, 50, geeky, kinky, dorky, thinky, cis-gendered female (with all that implies…boobs, periods, mood swings, hot flashes, etc), agoraphobic, socially awkward.  I don’t hide much, I don’t keep much private, even though others think I should.

It’s a kindness I give to the world around me in the hope that one day we will stop being ashamed of things in which there should be no shame.  There’s enough pain and shame and blame and misery in this world.  No need to invent more.

So, on this rainy Wednesday, give yourself permission to be you, and remember that kindness really does matter.  It can change lives.  It changed mine.

 

 

Photo by Robert Baker on Unsplash

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shades and shadows

I spent a lot of hours in the world of Shades and Shadows as I was writing and editing it.  It isn’t a comfortable world, and over the years, the story moved and changed, things got edited out that I once loved because they just didn’t fit the story any more, and everything morphed as the ending became clearer.

It isn’t hard right now to see an America divided against itself, two extremes set against one another.  Meanwhile, the middle gets trampled.  It’s easy to prey on fear.  It’s easy to rile up anger.  And truth gets lost in the rhetoric and vitriol.

Conflict builds, momentum grows and the conclusion comes crashing down in Where Shadows Fall, which is available for FREE right now for your Kindle! Just click here.

You can also enter to win a copy of all three books for your Kindle by clicking here.

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the last stand

I haven’t really talked enough about Where Shadows Fall. I struggled a bit with getting this book done, maybe in part because I knew it would be the end of my living in that world, at least for a while.

The grand finale takes place in Washington D.C., which I think was rather inevitable, given what we know about the man pulling the strings.  I didn’t set out to have a meglomanical bad guy.  In the beginning he was just a guy who believed that Others were evil.  Clearly, I maintained some of that in the overall story however.

To me there is nothing as frightening as a person who believes without doubt, someone who fears that other for no concrete reason but because they have been told to believe. They can’t be reasoned with. No argument will penetrate the protective barrier of that belief mixed with fear and hate.

I always thought that it came from religion, from man’s need to control mankind’s access to gods and the power that came with that.  However, as we can see in America today, it doesn’t have to come from within religion.  It need only wrap itself in the cloth that resembles religion to draw people in.

I find that terrifying.  Maybe that’s why the 8th Battalion became one of the big bads in these books.  It certainly drives the character of Colonel Shallon.  Blind belief is a dangerous weapon.

That is where my thoughts are today, Readers.  I hope yours are more pleasant on this cold, January Saturday.

 

Photo by Ji Pak on Unsplash

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welcome to the future

It’s an odd thing, really.  By which I mean time and our visions of the future.  We’ve arrived at the year 2019, which past us predicted would be in varying degrees of dystopian decay, with technology that we haven’t quite realized.

We may be well on our way to dystopian entropy, given our current political, social and economical situation, but our cars don’t fly yet, at least not at the common man level (I’ve seen the prototype, but it’s a far cry from being affordable or even legal)…which I suppose is good, considering the terror it could cause.

I’ve been feeling pretty ho-hum about things since Christmas.  My idea of New Year’s eve, was a Star Trek:Voyager marathon that ended around eleven.  I’ve never been a big resolution maker, because I realized young that most of us just make some big proclamation about big changes that we’re are never actually going to follow through on without any plan for how to accomplish them.

That said, however, I am resolving to work on two specific goals this year, and I already have plans in place for how to accomplish them.  I probably won’t really be discussing them, but they are health and finances.

Today is my first day back in the office, like many other Americans, I assume.  I like first days, they feel like a fresh start.  My goal for the next three days is to finish up a few unfinished projects from last year so that next week I can begin new things.  I also hope to get at least three hundred words written every day, whether on the current project or something else.  My daily writing has been slacking lately.

I guess I should get myself busy with that.  I have a mile long list of emails to respond to this morning, so I’m off to the day job.

Happy New Year, Readers!  Welcome to the future!

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taking a sick day

I had writing plans for this weekend, but I seem to have caught the cold that’s been going around, so I am going to call it a sick day and not beat myself up over it.

I think it might be a good day for my couch, my blankets and pillows and whatever movies I can find to entertain me on Netflix.

Sometimes a sick day is good for the writer’s brain.  We can step back and hopefully when we return, we are ready for action again.  At least that’s what I’m hoping.  I have a full religious liturgy to create!

Whatever you’re up to today, I hope you make room for some rest as well.  And, if you’re in the area, some chicken soup would be nice.

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shining lights and quiet nights

We’re less than a week out from Christmas, which hardly seems possible.  I think I maybe finally found the knack of not going overboard on spending for my family this year.  I’m a gifter.  I like to give gifts.

For a lot of people, this time of year can be difficult.  The days are short. The nights are long.  We try to compensate with lights.  We put them on our trees, we put them on our house.  For me, it’s candles.  I love to fill my living room with candles during the holiday season.

It’s a form of what we call “sympathetic magic,” the act of calling something to you by imitation.  What we’re longing for is the sun, so we light our lives up with artificial light to tempt it to return.

The only thing I like better than candles lit against the cold dark of winter, is the cold dark of winter itself.  The winter solstice is Friday, the day of the longest night.  Every day after that the days will grow slowly longer and the wheel will turn, spring will come.  There will be candles in the early evening, but before I go to bed, I will put them all out and spend some time alone in that quiet that only comes in the dark.

It’s a good time to do a self-inventory, to judge your progress against goals, to adjust your attitude toward yourself and others.  Preparation, for you to return with the sun and ready yourself for the growth to come.

At least, that’s my solstice tradition.  Followed on Christmas with family time, food and gift giving.  I hope that however you celebrate, and whatever you celebrate, that this season of good will finds you happy, healthy and hopeful, Readers.

I am more grateful for all of you than you will ever know.

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where birds fly free

It’s an early Saturday morning, early enough that it’s still dark outside.  I can hear the gutters still draining off the steady rain of the last few days and every now and then, a gust of wind. It’s a nice sound, especially because we have needed the rain so badly.

I’m waiting on cover options from our designer for Where Shadows Fall and working on the next project, but for today, I am taking a break to go watch some birds with my mother and a friend (who incidentally is the woman I modeled the character Victoria around in the Shades and Shadows books).

We have a number of ecological preserves and wildlife sanctuaries or refuges around us, and while I may not know the names of every bird we will see, I’ll enjoy watching them and spending time with two women I adore.  It is a chance for my camera to venture out and take some shots, like the one above, which I took at the Woodbridge Ecological Reserve a couple of weeks ago.

It’s nice to take a break from one creative endeavor for a different creative endeavor.

Right now though, I’m sipping my morning coffee and contemplating breakfast. I hope your Saturday is everything you need it to be, Readers.

And, if you’re shopping for the reader in your life this small business Saturday, consider any one (or more) of my books, found here.

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the thanksgiving problem

We live in an age of new understanding of old traditions and previously accepted history.  I doubt that there are many Americans who haven’t at least heard that there is a problem with what we think we know about the beginnings of our country, or that the first “thanksgiving” was not what we learned it was in grade school.

Yet, tradition and images that we all learned in those classes persist, and tomorrow much of the country will have the day off of work to gather, happily or not, with family we only ever see at this sort of holiday dinner and engage in the very American past-time of overeating while at the same time body shaming one another and dancing around politics and dark family secrets.

The Thanksgiving problem is multi-layered, really, beginning all the way back when white people first arrived on these shores.  There are people better educated than I am who can explain all the problems with that better than I can, but if I can offer my understanding in short:  There’s the fact that a bunch of white people just assumed the land they wanted was their’s for the taking, the idea that they did so woefully unprepared for what that land would require of them, the notion that we turned the natives into the enemy because they were different, the traditional idea of “good Indians” who helped those white people survive and “bad Indians” who were savages that would kill for no reason…And I’m sure a lot more.

There is the toxic demand for families who live separate lives for a reason, to come together and steep in a day heated by disgust, anger, forced affectation of affection, the stress of getting the food on the table, etc.  This is something I try to help young LGBTQ folks understand,  that they really do not have to submit themselves to that for the sake of a national holiday based on a lot of really bad history and colonialism.

No one should have to spend a day with those who at best despise them and at worst want them dead.  No one should have to pretend to be someone that they aren’t to keep the peace at the dinner table.

We could also talk about the toxic combination of food waste, gluttony, body shaming and the double edged standard that surrounds meals like this.  If a fat person carefully prepares a plate with a healthy portion of healthy foods, they get asked “Is that all you’re going to eat?  Look at all this food we made.”  If a fat person tosses the concept of healthy eating out the window, they get told, “See, that’s why you’re so fat. You need to control what you eat.”  On the other hand, a skinny person eats twice their weight in food and half of a pumpkin pie, and are asked “Where do you put it all?”

Still, as problematic as Thanksgiving can be, there is also something to be said to find ways to reclaim it, remake it.  You can see some of that in the trend toward “Friendsgiving,” where those who have no families, their families are distant or whose families are as good as poison chose instead to come together for a communal meal.  These are the places where LGBTQ get to create family out of supportive friends, allies, and peers.

We can also work at chipping away at those images and traditions that are not actually based in reality and giving voices to those our colonialism, which began in Plymouth, marginalized, abused and murdered.  If we can find a way to morph Thanksgiving from a holiday that celebrates that false history, and start to use it as a means to celebrate the actual humanity of those who are a part of the fabric of our country, meaning the Indigenous people, people of color, women, transgender people, gay and lesbian people, fat people, skinny people, those in between, geeks, nerds, Pagans, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, and atheists, etc, then maybe we can reclaim it and make it a truly American holiday.

 

 

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the chill of winter

It isn’t really winter here in Northern California, because it is, after all, California.  It is, however, colder here now than it was a few months ago.  Cold enough that my early morning writing is being done with my heavy bathrobe on over my pajamas.

I grew up where winters are a little more dramatic, where blizzards could mean days off of school, where I learned to ice skate, and ice fish, on the pond that emptied into Lake Ontario.

I have a lot of fond memories of winter in Upstate New York as a child.  I loved the winter then.  Sledding and skating and snow ball fights.  It would take you longer to get dressed to go out in it than you’d actually spend outside in the snow because it was so cold!  As I got older there was the fun addition of snow mobiles.

I left NY when I was 18, and I’ve been back to visit a time or two, but a blizzard that nearly kept us from getting home kind of soured my taste for it.  And, as I get older, the idea of all of that cold, wet snow and all of the work just to get around in it, makes me think that I’d rather stay here, where the snow doesn’t bury us to the second floor window and the cold rarely nips low enough to freeze.

It took some time to get used to the holidays without snow, but now that I have, I like not having to worry about driving on sheets of ice to get to see my family. As we head into the holiday season, that’s an important consideration.

Still, I’d take a bit of that snow about now if it would help combat the fires here in California.