Posted on Leave a comment

so you want to start a revolution…

Through Shade and Shadow is just that, the start of a rebellion, though no one involved knew that at the time.  And, right now, Through Shade and Shadow is available for free for your kindle.

This first book in the Shades and Shadows trilogy introduces Alaric Lambrecht and Mason Jerah, and the world in which they live.  It’s a world that is starting to come apart at the seams.

If you haven’t read it yet, now is your chance to get it before Where Shadows Fall drops.  Let me lure you into an America not so different from our own, one where tribes of paranormal people have blended into the fabric, hiding their talents to prevent their own destruction.

Shades, a name given to them because of their particular weakness to the sun, are primarily healers, though they can kill just as well as heal.  They are feared for their gifts, particularly after one is found to be a serial killer. Of the tribes, Shades are the most feared and have the hardest time hiding due to their issue with sunlight.

Shadows are psychics and mind-readers, among other things.  Their gifts come from their minds and their name comes from the ability to control another person, shadowing them. Of the tribes, Shadows hide the easiest among the human population, their gifts easy to disguise.

Shifters are shapeshifters, people with the ability to shift into something else.  Of the tribes, Shifters have been hunted the most voraciously over the years, resulting in a low number of them still in existence.

Sages are those who use magic and each Sage is attuned to a specific form of magic based on their elemental affinity.  Of the tribes, Sages have had the easiest time adapting to the modern world, hiding among the new age and Pagan populations.

America is falling apart, shredding itself in it’s fear of those it once thought were myth, and Alaric and Mason are directly in the path of the destruction.  War is coming.

Shades and Shadows

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Looking for a signed book for a Christmas present for the reader in your life? I have a limited number of books available, including Forever and Through Shade and Shadow with the old cover.  Hit me up in email at natalie@nataliejcase.com  or in DM on Facebook.

 

Posted on Leave a comment

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.

Posted on Leave a comment

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.

 

 

Posted on Leave a comment

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.

Posted on Leave a comment

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.

Posted on Leave a comment

#amwriting

I’m sitting in my home office on a Saturday morning, enjoying the last bit of the Death Wish Coffee before I get my next shipment later in the month, and writing.  It is maybe my favorite day of the week, especially when the words are working well.

Today is one of those days, when the words are working and the story has changed enough that my re-write of existing words to change from 3rd person to 1st person has become writing fresh words that take the story in a slightly different direction.

My main character, my point of view character is an eleven year old girl when we first meet her.  She got her name when one of my best friends responded to my naming dilemma by telling me to name her Fred.  She was being facetious, but I took the suggestion to heart.  Her full name is Alliafred, but those close to her call her Fred.

The world she lives in is different from anything I’ve published before, and I’ve been really enjoying create a map of that world, though I lack in the drawing skills and naming skills.  I’ve been working on the world’s backstory for years.

In other news, I’m told to expect Where Shadows Fall to be ready to publish before the end of November, and as soon as I can, I will share the cover with all you.  I’m very excited to share this story with you to close out the Shades and Shadows series.

Now, however, it’s back to the coffee and the words.

Posted on Leave a comment

living off script

Life is an odd thing, if you think about it.  You’re born a squirmy, screaming thing that can do nothing for itself.  If you’re lucky, you’re cared for by people who love you just because you share the same blood.  You grow and you choose friends based on the clothes they’re wearing or the TV shows they watch or the color of their hair or whatever random thing makes them attractive to you.  You learn skills, you set yourself off on a path to earn a living, and maybe make your own squirmy, screaming thing that you then have to love and care for.

It’s almost like we’re born with a script to follow…even if some of us don’t follow it all the way.

Today is my mother’s 70th birthday.  She followed that script.  She became a nurse, she got married, she had two kids…but then there was an unexpected twist written into the script when she wasn’t looking.  She found herself divorced with two kids to raise with nursing skills so far out of date that going back to nursing wasn’t even possible.

She raised two kids, one who seems to be following the script pretty well. He married, raised two kids to adulthood, etc.  Me, well, not so much.  I kind of walked away from the script a long time ago. I never married, though I considered it once.  I never had kids, though I considered that once too.

At my age, it isn’t going to happen, though I have considered fostering from time to time.  I get attached too easily and I’m driven to fix things for others, so I think it would probably kill me to do.

I’ll have to settle for living off script, I guess.  It isn’t a bad life.

I have a cup of Death Wish coffee and some edits to get to before I head out to see Mom.  Happy Saturday, Readers!

 

Posted on Leave a comment

observations on a wednesday morning

I hopped on the early, early train this morning, the one two trains before the one I normally take, because I got to the station so early. It always surprises me how full the train is at 5:45 am.

When I stepped onto the train, I could see construction workers, half asleep, some squatting on their toolboxes, others sprawled across seats they’d managed to find before the train got full.  There were glassy eyed medical workers in their scrubs, blinking blearily out the window and kids on their way to daycare, mostly asleep in their parents’ laps.

There were a couple of college students too, trying to read from textbooks as the train jolted this way and that, clinging to the overhead straps to keep themselves upright.  A few stops in, two older women got on, each with a cane and looking like a strong wind would knock them over.  We had to rouse two able bodied folks sleeping in the accessible seats to make sure they could sit down.  It was one of those mornings where four accessible seats on each end of the car wasn’t enough for those who needed them.

I read most of the ride because I can’t resist the call of a new book.  At my stop, I got off the train with the masses and shuffled along to the escalator, praying that the escalator to the street was working because my right hip just is not up to stairs right now.  On the concourse I could see the homeless that had slipped into the station for a bit of warmth, sleeping while they could.  They’ll get roused soon enough and be forced to move on.  At least here in San Francisco they don’t have to worry about freezing temps and snow as they do in some places already this year.

Because I was early, I didn’t pass the regular people: the guy who looks like he belongs in a mob movie, the pregnant woman who is always on the phone, the homeless guy who sets up just in front of the one Starbucks, hoping for a cup of joe from a kind stranger.

Construction has the street all torn up, traffic re-routed, as they build whatever “pedestrian improvements” they’re making.  Closer to work, the striking workers were already hard at it outside the Courtyard Marriott, some of them blocking the side walk and chanting incoherently, others standing around the table where the coffee lives and talking.  I considered stopping at the Starbucks there, but then I remembered that they were closed due to the strike.

I was early enough that the usual security person wasn’t at the desk yet, so I nodded good morning to the man I don’t know and headed upstairs.  It was quiet and dark, the automatic lights weren’t due to come on for another 15 minutes…but I like it that way.

Now, however, the sun is up outside the window and I’m no longer alone in the office.  I guess that means I should refill my coffee cup and get busy. Happy Wednesday, Readers!  May it be filled with kindness.