Do You Believe in Magic?

When I was young, my mom's yard was a paradise. It was lined with majestic trees, lush grass, and flowers. You could just see the love she put into those flowers.

The centerpiece of the front yard was a Mimosa Tree. It was stunning. I spent a lot of time with that tree, doing the usual things like sitting under it reading or playing, or working up my courage to climb it to the first big branch. 

I have a secret. I flew under that tree. Yes, I did! You don't have to believe me; it's true. I would grab hold of its thick trunk, and then jump up with all my might! Somehow, my body would stay in the air, perfectly horizontal. I would close my eyes and feel the breeze flow over my body. 

When I let go of the tree, I'd stay in the air for a few precious moments before I thudded to the ground. The fall knocked the wind out of me, but I didn't cry or complain.  I knew magic when I saw it.

I still do. Clouds are magical. Friendship is magic. Love, true and abiding, is magical. Babies, from conception and beyond, are magical. Heck, sometimes chocolate mousse is magical.

We're going to need all the help we can get as time marches forward. Lots of changes ahead, crises as well as opportunities.  We'll need  family and friends so that we can wrap ourselves in community. 

I'm glad I still believe in magic. Do you?

Have an enchanted weekend.

Homeownership: The lies they tell you

The guys that put in my furnace a few years ago just pulled out of my driveway. It was time for a tune up. I trust the company, which I need to since I do whatever they tell me to do. One of the things I learned all on my own is if you let things get bad, they will only get worse. So I try not to let tings get bad. I remember when I bought my first house. “Congratulations!” they said. “It will feel good to not pay rent on someone else’s property.” Not one person told me signing on the dotted line was only the beginning.

So many things I did not know. Like you really should check the grading of your yard. My first house may as well have been a boat with as much water flowed from my backyard to my basement. If I had checked for watermarks in the basement BEFORE I bought the house. I also didn’t know th at the second the house is yours, things start to break. Deck stairs wobbling? Check. Water heater dies? Check. Aging pipes? Check. Squirrels in the attic? Double check.

After a while, I sold that house and lived in an apartment for a few years. Then like a lunatic, I moved to Connecticut and did it again. But this time, homeownership is NOT going to get the best of me. I check the drainage and walls. I found out when the roof was last replaced. Only the furnace cost me money right from the start.And truly, the benefits outway the problems. It’s MINE. My sanctuary. I can play my music as loud as I want to. I can decorate my walls, my lawn and any other thing I want to decorate. No regrets.

At least, not until I get the furnace bill.

Holidays

This year, I’m trying to slow down and savor the holidays. Time with people I love, reflection, and time to play.

This weekend we made ornaments. It was so much fun. I think we laughed and smiled the whole time.

I wonder what we’ll do next.

Enjoy the season, my friends.

Of Love and Donuts

Do you ever have cravings? I do. I tend to try to ignore them. Sometimes, they go away. Sometimes…they linger.

My partner and I had planned a relaxing weekend retreat at our favorite spot in the state, Niantic. It would be the getaway before teaching starts—a moment to relax, a moment for fun, and of course, the ocean. Since the first time we discussed going away, we lamented that our location would be just minutes away from The Hive.

What is this Hive we speak of? The place where Krispy Kreme donuts are made. ARE MADE.

Since we’ve been working hard at eating better, donuts were not on the agenda. But, unbeknownst to each other, neither of us could stop thinking about the confectionary crack, Krispy Kreme. So freaking close and yet, so far from our beachside paradise!

As we drove closer to Niantic, my partner hesitantly said, “I know you want to keep on our eating plan, but, um, we are going to be just a few miles away from The Hive. Doesn’t a donut sound good?”

I replied, “OH MY GOD IT SURE DOES! Let’s go. But we’ll just buy a couple, right?” I had been holding steadfast to my commitment to avoid The Hive because I thought SHE wanted to, and she had been doing the same for me. What an awesome feeling.

(Don’t ask me how many we actually bought. Let’s just say it was a weekend of love and donuts.)

The Business of Writing

I’ve been a writer for a long time. It started with journaling, then publishing and writing for a free, underground fanfic newsletter called Hot Chocolate. For me, writing has always been a necessary joy. Stories roll around in my head all the time and sometimes, they consume me. The result? House of the Rising Son, After Midnight, and the soon to be released, Waiting for the Son, and every short story I’ve ever written.

In looking to have House published, I discovered an unfortunate truth: Writing is a business.

Of course, I knew selling was part of it. I didn’t know the first of that selling was selling the story to a publisher. Most people think that publishers do everything. They sure do a lot, but most publishers don’t help much with marketing. But for a writer, marketing is Job #: Planning, Promotion, Social Media, and more.1. I had a lot of learning to do. At this point, I spend 5-10 hours a week on one marketing activity or another. I’m getting pretty good at some of them. Still don’t like marketing much.

I’m currently planning the launch of my 3rd novel, Waiting for the Son. I’m also working on a new short story, plotting the next book in the Living After Midnight series, and plotting another series. It’s too early to say to much about it except that the working title is Six +1. Look for it in the next year!

Onward. I have a launch to organize.

Love in Abundance

February is the month of love, isn't it?

When I write, I consider all types of love. Not just romantic love, like the hot, passionate love between Chey and Zander in House of the Rising Son. But also the love Chey has for his children, the "I'd give my life for you" love that parents have.

Then there is the love between friends. I say I love you to my friends regularly. I don't want them to doubt how much they mean to me. Although he has yet to say it, you know by his actions that Chey loves Consuela, drag queen and the nanny of his children, with his whole heart.

We love our families--and that holds different kinds of love. I love my mother deeply. I admire and am grateful for her strength. I wouldn't be the same person without her love. But I love my sister quite differently. She was my role model, my "true believer", and my first friend. Life without her is...not the same.

Chey hates his half-brother Richard, the torturer. Seriously. I don't use the "h" word lightly. But the love he had for his mother and the powerful love he received from her enabled him to move beyond the hate. He may never admit it, but he loves his sometimes controlling father, too. He's realizing his dad loves him the best way he can.

Our pets are often on the receiving end of our love, aren't they? They fill all the empty spaces in our lives and in our hearts. We feel their unconditional love . Toby likes to sleep on me, upside down. He hears my voice on the phone when I call my partner from the car, and stands in the window as I drive into the driveway. If that isn't love...

I also love potato chips, Prince, BTS, and the beach--an altogether different kind of love.

Love comes in many forms. We are fortunate in that way. May your February (and the rest of your life) be filled with an abundance.

Thanks for being here.

It's Not A Small Life

Today, I heard someone say that they know they lead a small life.

It was, in fact, the second time I’ve heard it. A character on a drama series also said it. The comment, so soft on the surface, hit me pretty hard both times. What might it mean, to live a small life?

I’m not going to say more about the real person who said it. That’s not fair. But it’s worth talking about the fictional person. Based on the rest of the story, the character seemed to mean that his life is unexceptional. Ordinary. He had a job as a salesman; he made a living, but he wasn’t close to being rich. He lived in a small apartment, had a couple of friends. He was, by all accounts, a good son, a great big brother, and a loving boyfriend. He meant he was neither a hero or a villain. He wasn’t part of the elite, nor was he a criminal (despite being surrounded by them).

But…

He was really good at his job. His boss valued his work and supported him during a difficult time. He loved and had a close relationship with his mother and his sister. His friends cared enough to defend him when the going got rough. His girlfriend loved him as completely and as deeply as he loved her. He fiercely protected his family, sometimes to his detriment.

He touched the lives of many people. He loved and was loved. Sounds like a colossal life to me.

Layers of Diversity

A diverse group of women and men.

Today, there is a focus on diversity. That’s a good thing! Interestingly, it is almost always the same aspects: gender, sexual orientation, gender expression, race, age, ethnicity, religion. These are also, not coincidentally, protected classes (meaning protected by laws, at least some of the time).

What isn’t often discussed, however, are all of the other layers of diversity worth recognizing. For example:

• Wealth or income level. The amount of money you have affects how you view the world and your experiences in it.

• Education.There are those of us with Doctorates and those without high school diplomas and every step in between.

• Skin tone. Having a lighter or darker pigment, depending on the culture, can affect how you are treated.

• Beauty. Yes, beauty standards vary. But if you exceed or don’t meet the standard, it can affect how people view you.

• Geography. Urban/rural. North/south. East/west. You know what people think. People in the south are slow. City folks are rude. West coasters are laid back potheads.

• Weight/body type. All kinds of assumptions are made about people who are overweight—Lazy. Stupid. Jolly.

On the one hand, it is a research-based fact that when you have a diverse environment, people are happier and more creative, and decision-making is high quality.

In my books, you’ll find characters along many layers of diversity. My characters are older and younger, rich and poor, straight, gay, and transgender, chubby and not. There are attorneys, musicians, drag performers, and corporate bigwigs. And of course, a myriad of races, including the supernatural kind: Vampires, Weres, Incubi, Huldra, Caladrius, Dragons, Wizards and more. All of this makes for, as one reader noted, Memorable characters, humor, compassion, and adventure.

That’s the kind of world I want to live in. The one that diversity can create.

Writers Love Words

It’s a fact. Writers love words. We carefully select and arrange them in order to tell a story. Truly, choice of words can make a difference between a novel that resonates with people and one that falls flat.

Over the course of my life, I’ve been enamored by a mispronunciation or adorable misuse. A child I once knew asked for “chockmage” when she wanted chocolate milk. A former foster kid said “sawt” for salt. My sister used to call fringe “fringles”. Speaking of fringe, my niece used to say “french benefits” instead of fringe benefits. My son (when he was much younger and probably will hate me writing this) referred to goosebumps as “freeze blisters”. A former client of mine used to tell people she had ESPN because she knew things. Another client told me she enjoyed “being in my near”—perhaps the sweetest way anyone has ever told me they liked me.

I’ve also fallen in love with words. Not because of their meaning, but because of how the person (typically a person I cared about) said them. My mom, an intelligent, intuitive woman, played with words. Sometimes literally. She’d make up word games to entertain us during long car rides. But she was also playful. “Absolutely positutely,” was a favorite saying. A caterer by trade, she loved desserts made with “nutneg.” She said she was “exhaustipated”, when she was tired down to her bones. By the way, she used that word DECADES before it landed in the Urban Dictionary.)

Some mispronunciations make me swoon. “Beso foda pop had fiz,” is a lyric Prince once sung. Yet another artist I adore sings “Kismas” and my heart melts. Crazy, right? Absolutely positutely.

What misuse or mispronunciations make you smile?

Grief is an Interesting Emotion

This past week, I discovered that my beloved chiropractor died. His passing stunned me. He was in his forties, healthy and fit by all reports. He died nonetheless.

The day I received the news, I was numb, in utter disbelief. By the time I woke up the next morning, life itself felt surreal. As that second day passed, my sadness, raw as it was, brought to the surface my despair at having lost my sister 4 years ago, and my despondency at Prince’s untimely, senseless death. grief welled up inside me and came out in a torrent. I cried for two more days.

I’m grateful that my partner somehow understands me and tethers me when I feel like I’m drifting. There was a moment where I wailed in lament that life is so fragile and I’ve wasted mine. She said…

“You didn’t waste it—I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

That sweet sentence starting my climb from the abyss. I’m good today, but I’ll carry with me an important observation. No, more than an observation, a truth: Life is fragile. Take great care of yourself, and also live each day as if it could be your last. And tell people you love and appreciate them at every opportunity.

Purpose

Existential dread is that feeling you get when you contemplate your purpose, your reason for existence, only to realize that one day you’ll be gone and at some point after that, you’ll be forgotten. It causes you to wonder what the point of it all is. What is the meaning of life?

It’s a not an uncommon human condition. I have had long moments of dread. It can feel pretty hopeless, and fill you with anxiety and sadness. It’s a place where we may find ourselves after a crisis, or a loss, or emotional trauma of any sort, but it is not a place you want to stay.

So what can you do when this hits you? First and foremost, if these thoughts lead to despair, reach out for professional help. There is no need to suffer.

If you are managing, you can scan the internet or the self-help section of the bookstore or library. You’ll find many suggestions. Here are a few strategies I’ve found effective for me.

Distraction It isn’t always a good idea to ignore the things that bother or upset you. This isn’t the case for existential dread. You should focus on things that give you joy, or entertain you and let go of the rest. Give yourself permission to play. The first time I remember feeling this way happened early on in my marriage. I started to see that nothing was as I thought it to be, even though I’d poured my heart, soul, and my entire being into the relationship. It was a big “what is the point” time in my life. Then I found Prince. He gave me joy, he gave me a group of friends that I have still. He saved me.

Live your values Admittedly, this is not easy when you're experiencing the pain of existence. But it helps to take stock of what’s important to you. Is it family? Service? Charity? Community? Hard work? Faith in a higher power? Identify what is the most important, and dedicate yourself to living it. Let it be your purpose.

Accept that there are things you may never know It’s still hard to talk about this, but my sister died a few years ago. I miss her every day. When she died I realized that I am the last person alive in my immediate family. That truth knocked the wind out of me. Did she know how much I cherished her? Why has she abandoned me? Why is life so painful? Why can’t we live forever? I work every day to accept that while it is human to ask the questions, there aren’t always answers.

Connections There are people who matter to you. It’s easy to forget you matter to them, too. Spend time with those you love, in person or virtually. Bask in the fact that you have touched their lives in a positive way, and let them touch yours.

That may very well be our purpose.

A Somewhat Disturbing Survey

A recent article by my website host is somewhat alarming, if not surprising. It reports a survey which looks at the online behavior and interests of Baby Boomers (born 1940-1964), Gen X (1965-1980), Gen Y (aka Millennials (1981-1995) and Gen Z (1996-2012).

The result that caught my eye is that 60% of Gen Z and 62% of Millennials believe how you present yourself online is more important than how you present yourself in person. Nearly 40% of Gen X and 30% of BabyBoomers agree.

And it gets worse.

Over 40% of Gen Z say they are more likely to remember the last website they visited than they are to remember their partner’s birthday. And—get this—40% of Americans say they spend more time browsing websites than having sex in a given week.

What have we become? More importantly, what are we becoming? A society that cares more about virtual reality than reality? A people who prefer to connect from a distance than face-to-face? That’s one possible future. The thought filled me with despair until I read a little further.

Over 90% of Gen Z want to start their own businesses as do 86% of Millennials and 3/4 of Gen X. Wow. That speaks of ambition, resiliency, and initiative, traits sometimes Baby Boomers and the silent generations (pre baby boomers) fail to see in younger generations.

Dare we have hope? We must.