My Novels




 

Heaven Lies East of the Mississippi

 

 

 


 

The Todd Lambert Special

 

 

 


 

Alvin's Farm Vols. 1-6

 

 


 

September Story





The War on Emily Dickinson





 

Drop the Gauntlet

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Fits, starts, and restarts

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Two examples from two different skeins of yarn where breaks in the colour scheme occur. Very indicative of my current mood, lol. This is a funny novel, for all the hemming and hawing going on. Never before have I written, then purged scenes with somewhat of an abandon. I truly don't know what to make of it, chalking it up to age, grieving, the weirdly long winter (even though it's spring), or my new computer keyboard, which is small but adequate in a strangely truncated manner. I'm enjoying the writing, but the story keeps veering off on tangents I'm not comfortable with, in that too much is being revealed too soon, bleh. Future and Past Me's are steering clear of this manuscript, perhaps because what came before it was so out of the blue, so cathartic, and this prequel is just as outta my backside as any I've ever written. But I am writing, let me restate that, despite restarting a chapter here and there. I'm not getting much else accomplished, other than s
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Stuck in a lull

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Another rainbow quilt in the making, more or less. After a rather giddy ten days of writing, I have hit not a stumbling block, just peering ahead at the final bend in the road. Suspense has built for the big payoff, about which I have mulled over EXTENSIVELY in my mind, ahem. It's not that I don't know what comes next, only that having approached it, mild trepidation has emerged. Once I write the next chapter, basically it's done, and then.... Then comes a few days of perhaps an immediate read-through or I merely set it aside, breathe deeply, then jump right into the next book in the series, which already sits at sixty-six K, but needs plenty of reworking and another twenty-thirty thousand words added. I wrote it first, the book that had been going well until it came to a grinding HALT , then a dorky final chapter was slapped upon it, but that nonsensical conclusion opened the door to what has turned into a series, at least within my own mind. LOL. Gotta have a sense of hum
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Orphan blocks are not like unfinished novels

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It's a busy day, getting ready for guests that will enlighten our lives for the next week. However my feet are a little weary, so why not ramble here for a bit, giving those dogs a rest as well as set upon a discourse about the above title before I forget why I thought it was important (lol). I don't even know why I first pondered this, maybe an IG poster mentioned them, which made me think of my orphan EPP blocks. I don't have many machine sewn blocks without a home, but plenty of English paper pieced designs linger in a tote, patterns I liked and HAD TO MAKE. I used plenty of them on a Turning Twenty quilt, decorating some plain tone-on-tone prints and that was a great manner in which to employ less than a quarter of what remains, ahem. Oh and I used some on a t-shirt quilt that I made in conjunction with a friend, who had lived in Hawaii for a few years and wanted to put her aged shirts to quilty use. But still many remain, although I have a plan for them, hehehe. I am h
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