In A Bookish, Quilty Mood

Not a contender for the cover, but pretty nonetheless. This outing was slated to occur over a month ago. Then I was laid up by diverticulitis. Yet I still needed a book cover photo for Home and Far Away , so yesterday my husband and I traipsed down 101 on a most gorgeous early autumn day, enjoying lunch and snapping pics as we traveled. I began the driving, as my better half likes to snooze whenever possible, lol. First off I noticed how deciduous trees speckled amid the Redwoods had altered from our last trek south; golds and oranges and reds and dusty green-grays were their hues, sparkling as though wishing to out-muscle the giants for recognition. We wondered how the grapes further south would appear; Home and Far Away takes place in fictional Jumpville, California, standing in for Hopland. I was hoping for grapevines still with leaves, but would take what nature provided. After reaching Willits, vineyards appeared, and to our joy almost all were still leafy, in a variety of colour...

My new banner, finished yesterday, hehehe. Measuring at fifty-five by forty-five inches, the hearts are attached by a running stitch. I'll add more hearts as the need arises. I just returned home from our local No Kings protest, the attendance of which was the largest I have seen yet! Arriving a few minutes before noon, the sidewalks around our county's courthouse were already crammed with people and amazing signs. Many of those present were under fifty, which was also marvelous to see. Families attended, folks in costumes, bands played, and our local media were spotted. While I wish we didn't have to assert our views in this manner, I am extremely grateful so many people showed their collective strength today. Walking a few blocks away from the festivities, which were still going strong at two p.m., I saw this sign someone had left behind. The sentiments are vital, and I snapped a picture. If you are wondering how a small town along California's North Coast feels about...

A shot from my childhood, the era close enough to that of 1971, when Home and Far Away takes place. Sometimes a manuscript grabs my heart like no other. In a perfect world, this story would never have been written, the entire Enran Chronicles series based upon when my brother-in-law died nearly three years ago. Yet shit happens, and sometimes miracles do too. The miracle of of Home and Far Away staggers me, and while I'm reaching the end and don't want to include spoilers, these two short scenes between Sooz Noth, her employer Dr. Kevin Whitlow, and his receptionist Jane Hubbard call to my heart, begging to be noted. Okay, authorial heart, here you go.     Suze arrived at two p.m., but Kevin didn’t speak with her, clients waiting for her assessment. Within his head, he had employed the most clinical terms concerning her place in this practice, wincing when thinking of her possible absence, her probable absence, he corrected himself. For as much as he liked her, Richard to...

New fabrics are on the right, and they back all the coasters. Those on the left were made a year or two ago, waiting for this exact moment to be pulled from the tote and turned into something wonderful. Thanks Past Me! Kawandi-style stitching doesn't aggravate my shoulder. Good thing too, because I really wanted to sew some mug rugs and not deal with bindings. Bindings might be the biggest reason I now avoid making things with my machine. Or finishing things with a machine. I don't want the noise of a walking foot or the hassle of negotiating even a small coaster under a presser foot. Instead I'd rather hand-sew whenever possible, and once I get the perimeter of the coaster done (the only part that makes my shoulder shout), the rest is easy-peasy. I haven't done any serious evening sewing for maybe a month? Maybe. It was so lovely to sit the last few nights and stitch; how funny when something is removed from one's routine, then reinserted, as if the missing moments...

That's how many of my novels are available. Lol. Six standalones, four series, two volumes of poetry, and one collection of short stories. DUDE!  That's a lotta writing. I mean, that is a copious amount of literary collections. Excuse my loose vernacular, I just cleaned the chicken coop. But yeah, when one tallies the output, after nineteen years of this fiction gig, it adds up. I won't include the two novels currently under the revision microscope, though I could squeeze in Home and Far Away in another few weeks. Hopefully I'll be releasing that book before the end of the month, but it's the twelfth of October already and, well.... We'll see, fingers crossed, whatever God has in store for that manuscript, 'nuff said. Okay, enough stated about that installment of The Enran Chronicles , but I shall wax lyrically about the rest of my beloved books. Briefly. Um, yeah, lol! Oh wait, FACEPALM! What about Drop the Gauntlet ? Maybe this post should be rewritten, ...

Nineteen years ago here I was, writing my first book while we lived in Great Britain. Lately life has been so full of distractions that I forget part of who I am, an author. Reading aloud for Home and Far Away this morning, I was pleasantly reminded of a marvelous section of my existence and how important that treasure is to share. Here's a scene from Chapter 10. If you're interested in more of Sooz's backstory, check out Far Away from Home: The Enran Chronicles Book Three . Sooz only remained in her room long enough for Richard to fall asleep. Then she quietly went downstairs, collecting her novel and the dictionary from the living room, taking the books into the front room. She preferred reading in there because she could turn on the light without fearing she would alert Richard or Gilly to her nocturnal presence. That Chella slept as well as she did was a relief to Sooz, even if Chella required the light, although Sooz had turned it off when she initially went upst...