Dear K

 

Dear K,

You asked me for a blog, since I haven’t written one in a long time. The truth is, I haven’t found a suitable subject. I wanted to write about the things I’ve been doing this year in the pandemic, how I’m grateful to be working, grateful to have my husband working from home, grateful for a mild winter, and happy to have Grendel in my life. 

But 2020 has been a shitty year for so many worldwide, I don’t want to sound glib or insensitive, especially since death has touched everyone, including me.  I thought maybe, if I write it as a letter to a good friend, it won’t sound that way, and you are often a favorite muse for ‘Earth to Thoeba.’

Being isolated didn’t affect our lives as badly. Dan adjusted to working at home, and I’m sure he prefers it. He makes jokes about ‘the commute’, which means shutting his computer off, walking across the living room, and pouring himself another coffee. For him, this is a kind of relief. He prefers not to leave the house if he doesn't have to.

I continued to work, but the hours weren’t crazy. I looked forward to more writing time. That didn’t happen as well as I hoped. I found myself engaging in non-writing projects. I did my usual spring cleaning, yard work and gardening, and later fall-cleaning. In between, I painted a few kitchen areas in a beautiful color named ‘Enchanted Flute.’ It’s a muted blue-grey that magically works with everything around it. It took longer than anticipated. First I had to remove the wallpaper. (You were right. Fabric softener helped) That is when I learned that the previous owners of this house used wallpaper to cover about a thousand holes and badly placed nails and screws. We decided that they did what they could—Google wasn’t around back then to look up How-To home repairs. That’s how I learned how to re-caulk the tub this year too, as well as patching way too many holes.

Oh! And I made both Dandelion and Pear Wine from scratch. Can’t taste any of it until March.

Grendel was an unexpected and delightful bonus, especially after losing Spartacus Jones. (After ten months, I still ache for him, and I’m crying as I write. I loved that boy more than anyone or anything.) It began with Dan leaving wet cat food leftovers outside for birds, stray cats...anything that needed the food. If Freya wouldn’t eat it, why waste it? (By the way, Freya is as perfect as ever. Even my Mom adores her. She’s ten years old now, and still a sweetie.) We noticed it was always a black cat that came after dusk for it. He began to come earlier and earlier until one day he showed up at the door to ask for it.  We let him inside, and he’s been coming in ever since.

He hasn’t chosen us—not really. As I type this, he’s been sleeping in the basement for six hours. Sooner or later, he’ll come upstairs and howl to be let out. Dan reminds me that he’s feral and he’s not our prisoner, so we let him out. We want to get him fixed, but he stresses out when we try to keep him in, and he’s always so hungry, we don’t dare starve him for 12 hours to get it done, not right now. We’ve brought him to the vet. Vet says he’s ‘fighting fit’., and she’s right. He’s a muscular, scabby little guy, and he’s finally gaining some weight on his skinny butt. He’s about two years old, and I want to get his hearing checked. Maybe he’s just fearless, and doesn’t respond to loud sounds. Hmm.

This is another reason why I’m grateful for such a mild winter. Not just because I hate being cold. I can’t bear the thought of him being out there and not being able to find shelter. I find it funny how I can sleep like the dead, but still hear him meow at the door and wake to let him in. But what if he comes when I’m at work on graveyards? Dan doesn’t hear him as well as I do. We’ve been so lucky this winter. The temperature hasn’t gone below -10 Celsius. (14 Fahrenheit)

In October we lost my friend T, who is our friend A’s mother, to a heart attack. I was sitting here at my desk when 911 came. She lived across the street from me, and I stared out the window and counted family members, sent A a text...You know it’s bad when the ambulance arrives and the paramedics aren’t in any hurry.

I miss her voice and her boisterous cackle. I miss the way she called me ‘Doh-nah’. I’m really going to miss her rice pudding and her curried chicken livers that she made just for me because those were the bomb! I never did get the recipe, and mine just aren’t as good. T was a social animal and a giver. I made more friends through her.

On the day of T’s funeral—Halloween-- an ambulance arrived next door. Everyone watched as they took J away, and days later, we learned that she’d lost her long battle with cancer. J was just such a lovely person, and she fought hard against cancer, for over a decade. The last time I spoke to her and her husband it was in March, and we raised our voices from way across the sidewalk as to not get too close. She had given up on chemo, didn’t have the strength for it anymore, and was trying something else I can’t remember now. I can’t pretend that I knew her well, but I genuinely liked her. Such a good person with such strength and character, and I’d been hoping to see her more often after the pandemic was over.

 

Days ago, we lost TC. I met him through friends and he was awesome. He was a member of Mensa Canada, but so down to earth. He had a horrific car accident eight years ago that left him with a brain injury that confined him to hospital. I should have visited more, but I was afraid he wouldn’t remember me. He did, but I still didn’t visit more. No time, no energy, excuses. I should have, but I didn’t expect him to leave. His system gave out, and I should have expected that would happen eventually. That feels pretty shitty. Everyone feels that death. I wish I had better words. 

I’m still writing and editing. ‘Elaina’s Fate’ is actually in the second edit, but it requires so much work. There were so many missing details and wonky ones. I had to re-write several passages and erase and re-vamp entire pages. It’s okay. It’s going to be a much better book. I’m still writing ‘Her True Name: Volume Three', but I need to do a bit more research. T was going to help with that, but she’s gone. I will research the Hindi gods I need on my own. I’m going to dedicate it to her when I’m finished. I just wish she’d be here to read it.

It’s been a strange year. I wasn’t sure what to write, what to blog. I'm crying for all the loss. Sometimes I can't keep track of all the battles. There's no many reasons to be angry and so many causes to fight for. I'm hoping that when Trump is FINALLY out of office, things will work better.  It was never just feminism, I know, I've always known--but I've had to check my privilege.  It was hard, and it has to continue being hard. Otherwise, how else am I going to learn? This year has been so enlightening in scary ways.

I think of you too, more than you know. We may have met on Farmville, but I consider you a close friend. Haven’t we shared so much? And not just recipes for Beef Stroganoff.

I may have had a better 2020 than most, but it doesn’t mean I don’t think of you, and of the people I lost. I know so many people out there are having the worst year of their lives, and I feel somewhat guilty for my good fortune. So this is my new blog post, written for you my cherished friend. Drop me a note soon, and let me know how you’re doing <3. I love you. Please take care of yourself.

 

Thank you.

This was a week after he got here.

I want something to do with my heart. I need to find a way to lift it, spice it....something. I can't handle the bleakness of grief. I can't handle the short journey from my porch through my door, because there is no Spartacus Jones waiting for me. It's the worst part of my day. So, I'm writing another grief blog. I've said so much, but I feel like I haven't said enough.

By the way, thanks for ignoring my punctuation, grammar, sentence structure and  other screw ups a writer knows better than to publish. I've been told my words were beautiful but they are the ramblings of a half-plastered cat lady that didn't know how else to express herself.

Honestly? This hurts every bit as bad as losing my father. Yes, really. It's a different kind of pain, but it's still monstrously painful.

There are two kinds of people in this world. There are pet owners and generally kind people who, upon hearing of the death of anyone's pet will express meaningful, empathetic or at least sympathetic condolences. Then there are the others. The ones whose eyes will glaze over as they excuse themselves from the irritation and discomfort of a grieving pet owner. It's just a cat. 

This was the day he arrived.

But eventually, everyone will tire of it. They have lives to live, and while this is all very sad, it's not their shit to hold.

So right now, I'm avoiding humans. Everyone. First, I'd like to thank all of you in my real world and the world of social media for all the sweet messages. I often wonder why I write whiny blogs and post them on all my social media accounts, but I think I understand why I do it.

Right before I leave my garage, right before I take the short walk to my back door, I sit in my vehicle and cry. I shriek, I howl, I sob and let rivers of tears and snot drip down my face. I scream as loud as I can, inside the SUV. Then I straighten up, lock up, and check my mail. I unlock my back door, and feed Freya.

This blog, and the one before it, are the writer's version of screaming into silence. I can be truthful with myself in that I announced the death of Spartacus Jones on social media and wrote the blog for attention. My heart broke, and the world continued without him.
It's my scream in the garage, but I needed you to care. I'm a little ashamed to admit, I needed all your likes, hearts, sad icons and comments. Dan and I feel somewhat isolated right now, and I drank your comments and icons up. Now I know why they call it 'Thirsty'. Still doesn't stop me from doing it.

It's like, "I don't want to see or talk to anyone, but I still need you to comfort me." Weird, eh?  But whatever. It's working.

It actually helps.I may look like a crazy cat lady and a fool, but I know I needed this. So I just wanted to say Thank You.

Strange Days.

What a chaotic year it's been! I'm full of gratitude for it though. Sometimes I've been sad and depressed, but looking back, I've been fortunate.

I got a new job in March. It's got the usual stresses, but there's so many cool things about it. I'm never running late, because I make my own hours. I decide how many hours I work in a day. Some jobs are easier than others, but the more I work at it, the better I understand it, and the better I get at it. (Shout out to Colleen, Marie and Tracy. Heartfelt thanks for your help.) I'm making a decent wage. It beats kitchen work all to Hell, and not just because I can take a break when I need to. I can stop and think, and I can just take a day off when I need one.

Like when my Uncle Duane and I talked my mother into finally moving to Edmonton. We finally got her to agree, and I was tasked with finding her and my sister an apartment. I grabbed a free periodical and found the perfect place in three days. They love it! I'm still patting myself on the back about it.

May came on like a race. Myself, Duane and other family mobilized to move Mom and Jody, and while we did so, Mom signed the paperwork to sell her house. It happened that fast!  I didn't need to beg for days off, because I make my own hours!!

Summer came and went with the warped speed of Canadian weather. That's no typo, the weather here is warped. It rained too much to get a good garden, which is something else I struggled to keep up with, as I got the west end territory for my job. BLISS! I only have to drive five minutes on a good day to get to work, twelve maximum. It's more intense, and more hours, but that means more money.

In September, Mom decided I needed a new used vehicle, because having just our rickety old Dakota for my job wasn't going to cut it. I CAVED. I let her give me the money to buy my SUV. My friend and neighbor named it 'Sophie'. She has personality glitches I've learned to deal with. When I have more time, I'll deal with those, but in the meantime, I love her. We own her free and clear. Shout out to my husband Dan, who talked me into said SUV. After all, if Mom is paying for the vehicle, shouldn't it work for her too? Dad would have been proud.

Then winter came, and with it, a notice from the bank. Would we like to pay our mortgage off? What?! We can just DO that? I had been tracking our mortgage through my phone, and I expected to be finished in the spring, but we can do it now? No penalty?

We went in, wrote a check, and it was done in twenty minutes. Shout out to Scotiabank for making this easy from beginning to end. Shout out to Tracey Morgan who approved us fifteen years ago, and approved us for fifty thousand more than we asked for because she said that people without debts like us would not be happy with a home in the price range we asked for. (We had no idea how much houses cost.)

We are going into 2020 without any debts at all, and in a time and recession like this, I can't tell you how happy I am that we will not have any mortgage payments. I know just how lucky we are, and that we made all the right decisions. Not everyone has that privilege, and I feel strangely arrogant right now, but...

Cherry on top? A friend of mine has a kidney, just in time. It means someone else lost someone before Christmas, but I am eternally grateful for their organ donation. My friend really needed it. She has a huge family and many friends who got another Christmas with 'M', and more time. Yes, I am an organ donor. If something happened to me tomorrow, I'd like to give someone else such a gift.

Where Is my writing is all of this? Hopefully more so in the new year. I'm in a calmer place now that the house is paid off. I no longer feel like I'm in such a rush. Our shelter belongs to us, and everything else, I can work with. Maybe that's all I needed. I'm optimistic, about everything.

I wish, for you and yours, the same kind of confidence I feel now. Please, have a Happy New Year.

Practicing Gratitude

I often use this blog to vent my hurts, but I'm actually a lucky person. I have a good husband, good friends, a cool sister, cool family, two awesome cats, a pretty cool job I love more and more the better I get at it, and a really generous mom. I'm pretty grateful.

Speaking of which, here's my new baby.

It's a 2009 Dodge Journey

Mom paid for it. Why? Because she doesn't think we should wait for our inheritance when it was clear I needed a vehicle of my own to do my job effectively. Thank you, Mom. You were right, and the universe agrees, because I'm getting really busy.

Have you ever had your instincts kick in so hard, you couldn't ignore them? It happened on a Thursday. That was when I realized I could no longer resist my mother's tempting offer, winter is on it's way. Time to let her buy me the damned vehicle.

I managed to find a car dealership website that didn't ask me personal financial questions before they let me see their stock. Sweetheart Motors.

It was on the south end. I hate driving the south end, but my gut told me to check it out. I wanted another little Dodge Dakota, but my husband talked me out of it. Since my mother was buying, shouldn't we get something that works for her? Good idea, and there was a Dodge Journey that was in our price range that looked good.

I went and was DELIGHTED to find out that Sweetheart Motors was owned and operated by women. Whew! If you're a woman who has ever bought a car from a dealership, you know why I was relieved.

Long story short- I ended up buying the exact Journey I was eyeballing on the website, and I am SO HAPPY. It was an easy experience. My SUV is named Sophie and she's better than I imagined. Definitely practicing gratitude here. I thought about my father all the way home--how he would have been proud of me, following my instincts and getting something kinda perfect. The whole process took about three hours.

Then a week later, something happened. I did a job, and came out to the parking lot to find that my key fob didn't work.  'Don't Panic.'  Good advice Mr. Adams. (Author of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.)

My jacket and purse were in the vehicle. All I had on me was the dead key fob and my cell phone. I called my husband. He was home from work, but he never has his ringer on. He just happened to be next to his phone, and HADN'T begun to mow the lawn yet. (An hour long affair at our house.) So it was lucky he got my call. Also lucky? He was less than five minutes away. Here is where I mention how grateful I was that I no longer work the east end opposite from where I live.

I get in the truck and say, "We need to go to Battery World." Where is it? Right across the street from where your buddy owned his computer store. And Thank God, they were already open and easy to find. Traffic was minimal.

Guess what? My key fob has a key in it. Who knew? Certainly not me. Sophie is the newest thing I've ever owned.  (Thanks Mom) Anyway, we went back, and discovered that, yes, that was the only problem. I went back to work at the next job, and Dan went home to mow the lawn. Something that could have been a huge problem, turned out to be a minor setback. I am grateful, especially since I can see how it could have gone sideways.

The moral of the story: Being positive all the time isn't always possible. But I believe that practicing gratitude leads to more positive outcomes. If you CAN practice gratitude, do it. It works for me, maybe it can work for you.

Also practice kindness. You might be the only reason someone has to think of something positive. It's hard to practice gratitude if you can't be positive. It's not a switch you can just turn on and off.

Having said all this....I hope this is a refreshing change from me venting on the blog ;) 

Fathering a Feminist

I adored my father. That much is obvious. Yet I was always under the impression that my father would love me more if I was a boy. Maybe it was because they were expecting a boy. They were going to name me Christopher Robin.

When I was five, I was given a black pair of Bauer hand-me-down skates. I knew they were boys skates, my Uncle David's first pair. It didn't matter. Daddy liked to skate, so I would learn how to glide across the ice like he did, no matter that I didn't have the same pristine white skates with toe picks that I saw other girls wearing.

I have a fantastic memory of my father swooping over and asking me what was wrong. "Daddy, I can't skate!" I wailed. He showed me how to push and glide, push and glide--it wasn't at all like walking, and I didn't have picks to help me push off. He took my hand, and together we surfed the ice until I let go. I did exactly as he showed me and suddenly, it was easy. Viola! "Daddy, I'm skating!" In later years when we shared that memory he remembered it differently. He remembered me letting go of his hand and saying, "I got it, Daddy." And off I went. Sure enough, his little girl could skate.

It's a common theme in my life, always wanting to please my father and be good at all the things he loved. Because I believed he would love me more if I was more like him. More like a boy. It shaped who I am in interesting ways.

He played guitar and loved music. I took up drums and learned how to read music. I learned to appreciate all music-- classical, jazz, folk...stuff that wasn't metal. He loved airplanes and got a pilot's license. I became his co-pilot and navigator. I read all the books he used for ground school, weather patterns, cloud formations and how to read flight instruments. Our family went to airshows and my father and I collected T-shirts of our favorite aircraft. I built model airplanes. He loved hockey, both my sister and I learned how to 'speak fluent hockey', and we have our favorite teams of course. I collected hockey cards, and learned the value of those too. I can no longer tell you what Goals Against Average means, but my sister still keeps up with everything from draft picks to playoff games.

Here's where the feminism comes in...When my parents bought an acerage, I made myself useful. There was a lot to do, and if I wanted to spend time with Dad, that meant tough chores. It meant clearing brush and taking down small trees. It meant rototilling the earth and gardening. And lots of weed whacking. Lots, and lots, and lots of weed whacking. With a gas-powered weed whacker, no less. Those things are freakin' heavy.

And I grew strong. 

'Longest Distance Flown' at a Fly-In Breakfast

One day, he needed to bring a pallet of shingles to the roof. He had friends that volunteered to help, but Dad really just wanted to make sure it got done. Everybody seemed to be taking their time, and the roofers were going to be there in just a couple of days. So I helped him. This involved Dad hoisting a stack of shingles on his shoulder, and climbing a ladder. I stood on the roof, and grabbed the shingles from his shoulder by the plastic straps, and placed them in stacks. Such hard work! But it was worth it...After dinner, Dad's friends phoned. They were ready to help. I'll never forget how my heart sang when I heard my father say, "No, it's all finished. Me and my ah....daughter got it done." I could hear his pride. I saw it in the way he lifted his heels just a little when he said it.

We both hurt like hell the next day, but I was chuffed. From that day forward, I felt like I could do anything. I was strong and hard working. My father was proud of me. I'd heard him bragging about me. I'll never forget it.

That was the day I realized I could take any job, and work every bit as hard as a man. I realized my power and I was determined that if I worked like a man, I deserved to be paid like one, I deserved to be given the same opportunities, and I deserved fair treatment. My father believed in me. The best part? I did it. Just me. I didn't have to be a boy.

Looking back, I realized my parents raised a feminist all along. I realized my father simply never told me I can't. He never once said, "You're a girl, you can't/shouldn't do that." Not once. My parents just let me be myself, and I'm grateful for that. I like who I turned out to be.

I am a creative woman with a few odd interests and abilities and I am a good worker with a solid reputation. I'm that person, because my parents never told me, "You can't."

Diving in with my Heels On.

I'm in love with this book!

So I bought this book called Writer's Market 2015. ( Robert Lee Brewer, Editor) Brilliant stuff. If you are a writer, you should get one. I bought it because I need to know the best ways to market myself, and how to write an effective query letter. Not to mention, this book is stuffed full of the names and addresses of editors, agents and publishers and what they are looking for. Actually, that was the main reason I bought it, but I got MORE.

I'm at the part where it tells you how to build a Platform. 

Platform? I know what a platform is. You can dive off a platform. Platform shoes make you taller. Right? Not exactly apparently. I've just learned how to dive into a platform to make myself bigger, that's for sure. Am I the only writer who didn't know about this? It's not hard to do...in theory... but I think it will be hard to build. I hate being in-your-face and trying to push a sale.

Essentially, I've learned that one must use social media such as Facebook and Twitter to gain followers. Other things you can do to build a platform include mailing lists, newsletters, and street teams. Hoo-boy.

Turns out I had the right idea, but like the book says, "Think big. Then think bigger." It's not enough to have eight hundred followers on the author page, or seven hundred followers on Twitter. I need THOUSANDS. Tens of thousands. Yeah, I have 90 followers of this blog after 4 years.

So here's the plan: First I'd like to thank the bloggers and fans who've been tweeting their reviews like confetti for me. I've been retweeting them. Thanks for making it easy to make myself look good.

Jennifer R@pearlofagirl30
The Avid Reader@Magicofbooks
Lana&Mel@MelandLanaWrite
Roxanne Kade@RoxyKade
Melissa Simmons@GHBTours
Girls *Heart* Books@2grlsheartbooks
MythicalBooks@MythicalBooks

Thanks ladies <3 I deeply appreciate it. Thanks to Norm R. Peterson too. I saw all those retweets :) I'd like to thank all my Facebook bloggers too. There's a long list of you to thank too.

Image Courtesy of: jscreationzs@FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I've been a bit of a Twitter snob, going about things all wrong. I didn't see the point of following people who didn't seem to have much in common with me. NOW I get it. It's about Networking. It's about building a platform and staying in touch. It's about supporting others as well as yourself. It's my own fault if I find Twitter boring, because I haven't connected.

So you know I'm here...Where are you? Where's your blog? How do I reach you? Share, share, share. If you'd like me to follow, let me know in the comments. I look forward to hearing from you.

Odd Things to be Thankful For.

Thanksgiving isn't a big thing in my family, thus it always catches me by surprise when it shows up. The holiday is coming this next Monday, (Canada celebrates Thanksgiving in October) and I'm not quite prepared for this blog. THANKFULLY, I just found my list of odd things to be thankful for. It's a little list of inventions and things I never take for granted. Yes, they're all man-made, but humans and the divine spark within them created these things.

Left-Turn Traffic Signals: Each time I'm at an intersection and I see that green arrow I feel a delighted sense of relief. Turning left against traffic is stressful, and it makes me feel better when I don't have to decide when it's safe to go.

Instant Ichiban and Miso Soup: Comfort food for under a dollar and it takes less than 5 minutes to prepare. Favorite simple pleasures.

Garage Door Openers and Remote Car Starters: I live in Canada and winter is coming. Enough said.

The Internet and Cell Phones: Every single week I marvel at the technology in my hand. I wonder how many people were able to get un-lost through maps on their phone. Or to tell someone they're running late. How many fights have those two options prevented? How many times a week do I need a fact or a measurement and I just type in a phrase to the  Google Chrome app? I don't need a TV or a newspaper to get a weather report. The world's knowledge sits in the palm of my hand, accessible by touch. I think of that often.

I Could Go On and On: Kindles can hold hundreds of books without you needing to dust them all. Facebook puts you in touch with old friends, new friends, co-workers, potential clients--Everyone. iTunes insures that never again to you buy an album only to discover you spent over $20 and you only like the one song.

Sure is a great time to be alive, isn't it? Gotta be thankful for that!

A post for Mel

I keep complaining about being busy, I know. Better to be busy than bored, honestly. I've given myself permission to slack off on the blogging for the summer. Why not? Everybody takes a holiday at this time of year, why not writers?

Well, okay, writers don't actually take vacations. We're always writing in our heads somehow. Do you know how many blogs I've written in the last month that didn't make it here? Five.
Some were boring, or just too boring to complete. Some were too negative to publish.

But I am excited about this. A lot of writers are. It's called the Romance Writer's of America Convention. I can't wait! This year it's in San Antonio, Texas.

I feel like Cinderella. Costs were such that I was sure I couldn't go. None of the friends I met on the Washington trip were going, so no roommates for pricey hotels. I couldn't afford a room, air fare, and the cost of the ticket to the convention itself, all by myself.

Enter Melaida Corpuz, Modern Day Fairy Godmother. ( as in, God, I love you, mama!)

Isn't she beautiful? Mel videotaping my wedding. Photo by: Dawn Dalton

We went for lunch (All you can eat Japanese, of course) and on the way there I moaned and cried at how impossible my dream destination was.  She said, "I'd like to talk to you about that later." It suggested she had a solution, but I didn't see one. I assumed that because she's a part time travel agent and a world traveler, that she'd try to help, but probably still couldn't find me something I could afford.

I was wrong.

Turns out a certain airline screwed up Mel's departure from San Diego  to the point that they offered her free airfare for herself and a guest to any American city. Do you see where this is going? When she went on Facebook and asked the general public where she should go, I suggested Washington D.C. since I had such a great experience there.

I never thought she would share her ticket  with ME.

Mel asked if it would be cool if we went to San Antonio together and she and I could hang out together--When I wasn't doing the seminars, of course. She booked a less expensive hotel which is DIRECTLY across from the Marriott where the convention is held. I think I wept. My insides jellied. Gobsmackedness.

Oh yeah...How much cheaper? At least $40 a night cheaper. Want her travel agent website? Here it is: www.ytbtravel.com/melaida

Wanna know some things weird? How about some backstory? Melaida and I are literally one day apart in ages. She's at least 10 1/2 hours older than me.

We went to junior high and highschool together, as VERY different people. We weren't fond of each other. She was religious, and I was a headbanger. Not a good mix. If you would have told either of us that we would become best friends, one of us would have beaten you up. Not saying who. ;)

Maturity and Facebook creates strange situations I'm freakin' grateful for. Besides Mel, I've found others I knew in highschool that I never knew cared about me, and my God, I love them too, but Mel is especially special.

The photo I published of her from my wedding, for example...that was her gift to me, to video tape my wedding. Later she tells me she wished she had me on video when I opened the wedding album she assembled for us personally SQUEAL!!

I can never really repay this awesome sweetness she did. I can't wait to spend this trip with her. Melaida Corpuz, I LOVE you!! Thanks for everything and all your thoughtfulness! <3

Definitely Thankful.

I got so preoccupied with all that's been going on this fall, I forgot about Thanksgiving! I feel like a real putz for that...But just because my family didn't really celebrate it, and me and my husband rarely do, that doesn't mean I don't reflect on the things I'm grateful for.

I'm grateful for my husband, who believes in me so much he lets me stay home to work on my writing. I'm grateful for my best friend Darci who always has my back and is forever helping us with home and computer stuff. As a matter of fact, she's having us over for Thanksgiving Dinner tomorrow. I'm thankful for my sister, who has always supported me.

I'm thankful for all my writer, blogger, Twitter, Facebook, Staccato, Shenanigans, and plain ol' Good Friends. And for my, dare I say it?--fans. Maybe it's too early to call them that. You're only as good as your last book, right?

I'm grateful for my reviews too--good and bad. And for all the opportunities that come my way as a result of all the hard work people have done on my behalf.

I'm grateful for all the simple things, like the view out my windows, the harvest from my garden, and those little sparks of inspiration.

Most of all, I'm grateful for my CATS. Because no matter what, they make me smile everyday and there is nothing in this world I love more than them. Thanks, God! And Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Wish I Could Make Everyone a Winner...

Honestly, I would really love it if I could just give EVERYONE a little gift for participating, but I would go broke! I don't even have that much swag or even bookmarks right now.Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU all for making this my most successful contest to date. I am truly grateful. You all rock!

I would particularly like to thank the following people for submitting the most entries: My first official fan, Kevin Warren for NINE entries. My good friend since highschool Kelly Moen for SIX entries, and my sister Jody Lean for SIX entries as well.

But this is a random draw, and these are the winners chosen by Troll, not Rafflecopter.

1. KEVIN WARREN!! Big surprise, huh? With nine entries, I was sure he'd win.

2. DERINDA LOVE!! Nice! Way to go, girl!

3.KJ PARTRIDGE!! Happily met KJ!

Again, THANK YOU everyone. I'm planning at least one more contest in September for the release of 'Aphrodite's War', and I hope you'll participate then too. Hopefully I will have e-books to give away as well. <3

Kevin and ladies, I will need mailing addresses and will be contacting you via Facebook soon.

Next blog will appear next Thursday, so we'll see you then!