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Thought I'd stop by to say hello, and to share this video I took the other day of our first snow. I noticed Mr. Cardinal sitting all by himself in a tree, but of course we can imagine Mrs. Cardinal was somewhere nearby. I went out later to toss out some sunflower seeds and the next day they had a wonderful feast.
This last week has been bitterly cold. I am NOT looking forward to a long winter of this! The first snow is pretty but after that it's all downhill. So, could someone please buy a house in Hawaii and invite me over for cocktails?
A brand new year, a brand new me . . . isn't that how it's supposed to go? Except, I'm not exactly sure that I'm feeling so brand new! Okay, yes, I am happy to see the old year pass away into the dirty fog it created, but isn't this *stuff* getting rather old, all this 'I have to be a better version of myself' starting right now, stuff? How about I'm happy with who I am and nothing needs to change, thank you very much? I worked hard on myself last year, and all the years past, and nothing needs to change. I just need to accept myself exactly as I am, right here, right now. Anyone else feeling this?
I keep hearing everyone say that 2016 was such a terrible year, but I don't feel the same way. 2016 was a great year of lessons and revelations. Of learning to trust my intuition, of learning to be comfortable in my own skin (even when I'm not that comfortable), of acceptance, of facing reality, of knowing what I can and cannot change, of what my tru…
My main character Emma starts things off getting mugged in Times Square, which, if you will pardon the cliche, is the final straw that broke the camel's back. Past events have turned her from bitter lemon to battery acid, and now a thug's gonna run off with her purse on New Year's Eve? Already in grief over the decision she had to make in a time-travel experiment gone wrong, she sneers at and bears life as it comes, sporting a very rough pixie cut, bright red lips and enough black eyeliner to make a racoon jealous. And then there's Jesse, the biggest calamity of all. But Emma likes calamity. It keeps her sane.
Emma's mad, and Emma doesn't want to be hugged or coddled, and she doesn't want to be lied to. Jesse can be as much of a jerk as he likes, as long as he's honest about it. Mostly he's a good kid, if not a tad reckless—in a stupid and endearing kind of way. Anyway, who cares? There's no mother, no father, no one to tell Emma what to do. Sh…
A few years ago I started a pen name to separate one style of writing from the other. It was an experiment, but mostly I did it to make this whole process a little less confusing. On one hand I was writing paranormal young adult, and the other a mainstream, literary style, and I needed to be able to do so without any worry of confusing the two--and myself! Many writers have separate pen names in order to help them focus and categorize, but mainly to promote. Anyway, I have been hesitant in telling you guys this, but at this point it feels stupid not to.
Today seemed like a good day because one of my books is free in commemoration of Janis Joplin's passing. Cimarron Man and other stories is a collection of shorts (some longer than others), many of which have been published by literary journals. One story, The Secret Life of Johnny Cool, was so much fun to write, sort of an epic journey of a nomad across the California desert where he meets two runaways from an all-female cult in Jo…