Considerations that happen to fall on Easter Sunday

-


For a week I've been mulling over how to write this post; rejuvenating or restarting a blog after so many years away deserves careful thought, although in the long run this entry will be way down the list. Yet after a nearly four-year hiatus of musing about the work, here I am on Easter Sunday. Not sure of the connection, but I'm certain it's meaningful.

In the meantime, where do I begin? Maybe I'll note why a blog that has been around for over fourteen years only has two entries as of now. I started on Blogger in 2007, wrote A LOT, then switched to WordPress in 2013, where I blogged until 2018. All those entries are saved, but not everything needs to reposted; in addition to writing plenty of novels and publishing some of them, I became a grandmother during that time. Both of my parents also died, Mom's passing in 2018 the impetus for closing the WordPress site. No longer did a career as an author appeal; all I wanted was to shut down, attempting to fathom how both of my parental units were gone, Dad at seventy, Mom just sixty-seven.

Yet my role as a wife, mother, and abuela carried on, and in those guises I found that life continues even after one's parents are no longer. Thankfully I had finished writing The Hawk right before Mom passed, so revising that behemoth kept me busy on the noveling end. Yet thinking about starting anything new was so difficult. Then came the pandemic. Dude.... Yet I muddled on through, making and wearing masks in 2020 while trying to write. After two failed attempts, I wondered if the muse was gone; had I buried it alongside my folks? But no, a determined cast of characters knew the third time was the charm. So began a series That Which Can Be Remembered, the first installment the appropriately titled The Possibility of What If. I'm hoping to release that book in the next couple of months; fantasy in genre, which I've never written, also with one foot in the here and now. A plague takes from my heroine her beloved, although things are not as they seem. A road trip ensues, a formidable crew of women traversing hostile territory in search of new lives, old friends, and a missing spouse. And with them I'm hauled from the depths, back onto the indie publishing bandwagon.

Full disclosure; I have queried this series, but no bites. Unless an agent clamors for a look-see in the next couple of weeks, I'll release the first installment in early June. Need to get some covers sorted, a little tricky when the protagonist, Brynn Dahl, has blue hair. We'll see what I can manage, yet it feels very good to be harnessing this energy once again. Four years ago Mom was complaining of back pain and less than two months later she was dead of cancer. It's striking how quickly time passes, although Dad warned me when he was my age (mid-fifties) that time sped along at an unbelievable rate and that heads-up was from a good twenty years ago. He wasn't lying; my grandkids range in age from seven to three, what? My husband recently retired, seriously? We moved from the San Francisco Bay Area up the California coastline and while we're farther away from family, we're in a good place for cool weather and peace of mind. Yet peace is relative; war in Europe and the lingering effects of Covid aren't going anyway, while a dear member of our family is battling cancer. Man, it's like when you think life is getting back to normal, shite again hits the fan.

Maybe this is where writing this on Easter Sunday becomes relevant. Faith remains an integral part of my makeup, the belief that not only is there life after death, but that good overcomes what seems so blatantly awful. That Love is stronger than hate, that grace is given freely. That for as inconsequential is one more blog written by just another indie author, stories of hope MATTER. Notions like the better angels of our natures triumphing are VITAL. That fighting the good fight EVENTUALLY wins out despite numerous setbacks. One man killed over two thousand years ago is still considered by many as saviour of the world. That's the crux of my journey, a cross changed from defeat to redemption. Despite all subsequent attempts at crushing dreams and squelching existences, this human race continues. My little part of it is writing and releasing novels. And so here I go again....

One lone poppy from last year's plot; I only noticed it yesterday amid weeds I had planned to pull. Kind of indicative of today's post.

Popular posts from this blog

Good to be home

-
Image
This Mandolin block was waiting for me last night; I added four perimeter diamonds and it was finished! Subsequent pics are all EPP made during our holiday. Despite a head cold that emerged late Monday/early Tuesday, our holiday was marvelous! I add this disclaimer because right now I feel pretty crappy, so if this post rambles, it's due to my current state of health. Ice Cream Soda block My goodness, there is a lot I want to say, perhaps the best way to get back into the blogging swing is to eke out bits here and there. The Gee's Bend Quilts Collection was AMAZING! Thirteen quilts were on display at the Philadelphia Museum of Art , beautiful comforters I never thought I might see in person. All were hand-quilted, most were completely hand-stitched. Designs, colors, and purpose made me grateful for my minor contributions to the quilting world, as well as causing me to wonder at future projects and ponder my fabric stash. Much food for thought at that deeply touching exhibit, wh...
Read more

Always good to be home

-
Image
  Heading west on I-580, just having crossed over a lengthy bridge. My goodness, where has the time gone? I've been back for two days, but no moment has been free to post here. I enjoyed a lovely getaway with an old friend, some warm temps, and an environment wholly altered to where I live. All in all, a terrific holiday, and now guests are arriving, which will probably preclude my usual flow of entries, although I truly am hoping to release my next book VERY SOON, lol. Getting out of one's routine is full of positives, the sense of adventure, especially when going somewhere new. Spending time with a pal from the the past enhanced the sojourn, much over which to chat. She knew our locale well, for which I was grateful. And I didn't miss my hexie box at all, instead spending my downtime reading one of my old novels, again falling in love with the sense of writing merely for my own pleasure. Our impending visitors will preclude me from diving into the prose, but I'm certa...
Read more

Earthquake recovery

-
Image
Records and box sets spilled out, blocking the door to a closet. An unexpected beginning to our day yesterday; at 2.34 am a 6.4 quake roughly stirred us from bed. In all my years dwelling in California, I have never experienced such turbulence, and boy howdy, this one packed a punch. Several striking memories remain, reaching for my bedside phone, but finding it had been tossed to the floor along with a small bookcase. Putting on shoes as a 4.6 aftershock rumbled through. Locating my computer tower on the floor next to my desk (spoiler alert; once power was restored at 8 pm, both my machine and my husband's were just fine!). A large bookshelf was toppled, vinyl albums flung from shelves in the living room, a few dishes scattered on the floor. Several framed photos had fallen, but only two sported cracked glass, one from which I was able to extricate the picture. No structural damage to our knowledge, and we had hot running water and a generator going all day. For all that could hav...
Read more