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the neverending journey

I have recently made the decision to undergo weight loss surgery.  I have been some level of overweight for most of my adult life.  At my largest, I weighed in at 320 pounds.  The smallest I’ve been as an adult was 153 pounds.  Currently I’m circling 280, and fighting to get down another five before I see the surgeon again.

Like most women who have struggled with their weight, I’ve tried every fad diet, every supplement, every new-fangled idea that came along.  Some of them worked, some of them didn’t.  Most recently I tried a very restricted eating regimen, which resulted in a loss of sixty something pounds, but I was only consuming 800 calories per day, which simply isn’t sustainable.

All of that dieting and sporadic bursts of exercise has my metabolic system so screwed up that when I upped my calorie count to 1000, I stopped losing weight.  When I upped it to 1200 on my doctor’s advice, I started gaining it back.

I’ve gained almost 30 pounds since then. Admittedly, I lost my will for it when I started gaining it back while still restricting calories, and I’ve struggled to get back to eating healthy after my vacation in September.

Ultimately, what made the decision for me was the levels of pain I am in on a daily basis.  My back, my feet, and most of my arms and shoulders are in chronic pain every day.  If I manage to walk my 10K steps on one day, the next day I can barely walk.  It’s nuts.  If I can’t walk, I can’t do much.

So, here we are.  I see the doctor on Wednesday, and that is when she will decide if we can schedule the surgery for before the end of the year. My hope is that this will set me up for a 2019 that is healthier and stronger, and less pain-filled than 2018 was.

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in the morning fog

Winter in San Francisco generally means temperatures in the mid 40s to mid 50s and fog.  Sometimes really thick fog.  That does seem to be the case this year.  Even though I live a good 45 minute BART ride outside of the city, my little city can get pretty socked in too.

Fog means dangerous driving conditions, particularly when you don’t know the roads you’re driving on.  For me, I find fog mysterious and beautiful, especially when it hangs low over the mountains or the bridges.  I never do seem to get out into it with my camera however.  One of these days I’m going to get up to the Marin Headlands when the fog rolls in.

Just imagine what the world of horror movies would be like without fog!  It sets a mood, for sure.

where-shadows-fall

If you have been waiting for the paperback to get your copy of Where Shadows Fall, your wait is over.  As of this morning, the paperback is available.  Click HERE to get it.

We’re headed into the busiest time of year, with holiday parties and get togethers, shopping and cooking and chaos of all kinds.  My life is no exception.  I’ll be trying a new-to-me cookie recipe this coming weekend for a company pot luck, and I have my first holiday party tomorrow evening.

Then it’s all a landslide into Christmas for me.

What about you, Readers?  Do you have a special holiday tradition, no matter what holiday you celebrate?

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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.

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flames everywhere you look

I live in between two raging fires right now, albeit quite a bit closer to the northern one.  My home has been inundated with smoke for days, I don’t venture outside much to avoid any complications from weakened lungs or sinuses that don’t even need a reason to go bonkers.

I am fortunate that I can work from home and that I live where I do. Today I am reminded that many are not so fortunate.  Many are right now in emergency shelters after fleeing for their lives with whatever they could grab on their way out.  Some escaped with nothing more than the clothes on their back before a wall of flame came to take away their homes.

Still others never got out.  They died in those flames.

As an author, I do a lot of thinking about death, about ways to die and what those methods of death do to the body.  For me, there is nothing more horrific than burning to death while still alive. Nothing.

There are many stories coming out of the areas that are burning; stories of heroic rescues, of animals finding ways to survive and stories of people coming together to help one another.  I saw two stories in the last 12 hours about surviving by getting in a body of water.  The first was about a horse that managed to get into a pool  and was found shivering, but alive.  The second was about a group of people who, realizing that they were trapped by the fire, took to an icy cold lake.

There are other stories too.  On my way into the office this morning I read the words of a man who barely escaped in his car, watching in his rear view mirror as his neighbors fought, and failed, to escape the flames.

Towns have been decimated.  Thousands are homeless.  Many have lost kin, friends, and pets.  The entire concept is terrifying to me.

Firefighters are battling the blazes, working round the clock in an effort to contain the fire, and I pray that they are successful soon.

Imagine losing everything in your home; clothing, photos, mementos, family heirlooms, all gone in a flash.  My heart goes out to the victims, and once I get paid tomorrow, I’ll be donating what I can.  I’m thinking I can weed out my closet too.  I have way too many clothes.  I’ll see if I can find somewhere to donate some of them for the victims.

Please, if you can spare any amount of money, I ‘m sure that there are plenty of places you can give to support those who have lost so much.

Thank you, Readers.

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november 11

I’m a big fan of remembering our past to keep us from repeating our mistakes, and the keeping of armistice day is particularly important to my mind.  When we look back at human history and the loss of human life that came from both World Wars, and war in general, it’s hard to comprehend any justification sufficient enough to bring us to the brink of such violence again.

And yet, I look at the world around me and it saddens me to see how close we are today to a violent clashing between world powers, and how much destruction it could bring us today.  As a species we seem to have excelled in the technology to destroy ourselves, perfected it in a manner of speaking.  Today we have the power to end life on this earth over the minor, trifling disputes that seem all together important, important enough to demonize and otherize those not like us, those who believe differently or look different or whatever reason we might give.

Even just within the country I call home, I have never in my life seen us so divided, so willing to level blame and accusations without consideration, even without fact in many cases.  Our technology allows us to spread lies as if they are truth in a heartbeat around the world.  It provides us glimpses of who people are when they are presenting their worst side, but never when their better selves are on display.

I sometimes feel as if war is inevitable now.  As if we are about to toss all of the lessons of years past, disregard the humanity of the “other side” and fall headlong into a bloody, terrible conflict that will not end until we have once again grown weary of the bloodshed.

But, sometimes, there is hope.  Sometimes someone reminds me that humanity is not yet lost.  Sometimes we put down our guns and our flags and our pride to remember what has gone before.

Now, if only we could vow to keep that peace beyond a single holiday.

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I voted!

(This Wednesday post on Tuesday is brought to you by Election Day)

It was a wonderful thing waking up this morning to see all of the “I voted” stickers on my Facebook feed.  I always vote by mail, in part due to my agoraphobia, so my ballot went out well over a week ago.

Mid-term elections are known for a low voter turn out, but already it seems that this year will be different.  When less than half of eligible voters actually cast their vote, and so many districts face active voter suppression (I’m looking at you North Dakota and Southern states), our government is decided by that small group of people who actually make it to the polls to vote.

With a country that seems so divided, every voice counts more than ever!  Right now the far-right and the far-left are the only voices at the table, because they’re the ones who voted in the last election.  It’s time to shake off the lethargy of the middle and get out there, make your voice heard.

In most places, Uber and Lyft are offering free/discounted rides to polling places, and some areas have sponsored “I’ll take you” systems where calling a central number will get a neighbor to pick you up and take you to vote.

I’ll ask only one thing of you as you set out to perform this serious civic duty: vote with Kindness.  If the option is between hurting your fellow human beings and helping them, choose helping.  If the option is between taking rights away and letting the equality promised in our founding documents proceed unhindered, choose the latter.

Have a good election day, Readers!  Make your voice heard.

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taken a-back

There is this moment, just as I am waking up, but before I’ve moved or opened my eyes.  In that moment, nothing hurts, at least not above my baseline.  I try to hold on to that moment, because I know that soon, I’ll have to move, have to sit up and put my feet on the floor, and then the pain will come.

I sometimes joke that if I ever woke up not in pain, I’d assume I died through the night.  I’ve had chronic pain conditions most of my adult life, and I’ve developed new ones as I’ve gotten older.

Most days I can be functional with a few coping mechanisms, some gentle stretching and my meds for nerve pain.  I’m fortunate to not need anything in the opioid category for pain relief.

This morning, as I slowly became conscious and I hung there in that glorious moment when nothing hurt, I wondered what it would be like to be there all the time, to have my body back.  I’ll probably never know.  I just adjust to the new normal each time something new comes to claim my body for its home.

This week has been rough for pain levels.  My lower back, and in turn my legs, have been extra loud in the symphony and have required I do some babying and icing.  They seem to be somewhat better today, though my whole back is a hair above what I call “normal.”

That’s okay though.  Today is a writing day, and aside from getting some laundry done, I have no other plans.  Just me, some Death Wish Coffee and one of the two stories I’m currently working on.

What about you, Reader?  What’s on your plate today?

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early morning San Francisco

I’m the first one in the office, which isn’t unusual.  Outside my window, the sun is starting to show itself between the buildings and the cloud cover.  I’ve worked from home for the last two days, and my house is not in a good position to watch the sun rise, so this is a nice treat.

I thought I’d talk a little bit today about books I’ve been reading.  Recently I finished From Unseen Fire, by writer Cass Morris, who I met at last year’s Sirens Conference. It is her debut book, and if you like well researched alternate history, this could be a good choice for you.  I’ll admit that the frequently flipping points of view made it a little difficult for me to get into at first, but her writing draws you in and you can see the research she put in before writing.  Beautifully drawn characters and a believable alternate Rome made this a solid four star read for me.

There can be no surprise that I had There Before the Chaos in my hot little hands the day it released.  My love for K.B. Wagers’ writing has been a long term affair, and this follow on to her debut trilogy was intense.  I tried to take my time and savor it, the way Hail savors her favored blue chai, but it went by all too fast.  Political and savvy, this first entry into the Farian War trilogy drops us in on Hail Bristol in a rare moment of peace, but peace was clearly not meant to last.  Kickass characters, heart stopping action, heartbreaking emotion…it’s a whirlwind.  You need to get in on that whirlwind and go for a ride. It gets a solid 5 stars.

One of the things that brings a book up to a five star experience for me is world building.  I can tell when an author has put in the hours to create a world I can crawl into.  It’s something I strive for as I write.  Both Wagers and Morris did this very well.

It looks like the day is starting here as people keep coming through that door, so I should refill my coffee cup and buckle down.  Happy Wednesday, Readers.  May it be filled with small pleasantries and deep kindness.