George, You’re Not Going To Believe This

I read George Orwell’s 1984 in school, but I had no idea back then I would one day be living it. I’m sure none of us did.

I went to the grocery today. I went at 7:15 in the morning, and by myself, because I’d already heard they weren’t going to let Bruce tag along with me. The parking lot was full when I arrived. There was one door letting people into the store and another ushering people out. I was counted both on entry and exit because only a fixed number were allowed to shop at a given time.

For once, the store was partially stocked with food, instead of being mostly empty as it had been on my previous trips during the last month, but there were signs over most items stipulating the limits of what I could buy. I pushed my sanitized cart through the aisles and waited for my turn when multiple people hovered near something I needed.

People were watching me shop the entire time to make sure I stayed 6 feet away from other shoppers. Some shoppers wore masks. Some wore gloves. Some wore both. Others like me–Baby Boomer rebel that I am–wore neither. I’m blaming my youthful years for my resistant attitude, but I’m sure my mental state is a lot more complicated.

I’m not going to apologize for my stubbornness or my need to be a little in denial. Please–no lectures. I get enough of those from my always prepared Marine husband. Next time I go, I probably will wear a mask, but today I was winging it. I hadn’t gone anywhere alone in weeks.

Okay… well… I’m not a complete rebel. I did have a tiny hand-sanitizer in my pocket, one of those “mini” ones from Bed, Bath, and Beyond that I’m sure someone got me for Christmas. I used it before I went into the store and after everything was loaded into the car. I don’t like it. I think in the big picture sanitizer and all anti-bacterial products compromise our immune systems. But the virus alternative is worse. I guess. Unable to mentally wade through all the daily bombardment of information and misinformation, I’m choosing not to listen to the news. I prefer to rely on common sense and caution and trying to keep my husband from being insane with worry.

However… despite the danger… I refuse to live in complete abject fear of every human interaction I have. I was raised to be nice, and friendly, and polite. I’m not saying all my choices this morning were smart. I’m just sharing how I felt about what happened today.

At the checkout line on the very clean floors of the store I shopped, there were do-not-cross lines which were precisely measured for maximum safety. Not a single rebellious person was in sight as I waited my turn. I think the other rebellious people were all like me–hyperventilating with panic on the inside while lecturing themselves about acting like a grownup instead of being freaked out.

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The (Boob) Bucket List

I usually use my blog to talk about my books or the books of my author friends, but today is a tiny exception. I don’t know this author personally, but I know her story and totally understand her motivation.

She is writing honestly about a subject that has affected so many women I know. If this book makes you smile or laugh or even count your blessings that cancer has missed you, then this author has succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.

Even at her very young age, she is teaching us how to live with grace.

Check out this refreshing book and be charmed. I’ve included the Amazon link so you could read the preview but I’m sure the book is for sale everywhere.

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What’s In A Name? Demon vs Daemon vs Symbiont

Over the last couple of years, I have gotten a lot of reader email from my cross genre fans who tell me they have an strong aversion for the word “demon”, so strong it has kept them from trying this series. The Forced To Serve series is a science fiction action and adventure story, and not at all about a “demon from hell”.  “Daemon” (aka demon, daimon) means “an inner or attendant spirit or inspiring force” among other things. 

Let me explain it another way. Did you ever watch Star Trek: Deep Space Nine? There was a character who had a “symbiont” installed in her. I used the term “demon/daemon/daimon” because I didn’t want to copy a term from Star Trek. Jadzia Dax was an officer who had all of her memories and all the symbiont’s. Jadzia was a Trill alien who joined with Dax the symbiont alien. That kind of blending of two beings into one always fascinated me so I wanted to create my own.

I recently changed the spelling of the word across this series to the term “daemon” hoping that future readers will bring a mythological context to mind when they see the books. I’m hoping to put out another in the series this year. Book 4 is currently being recorded in audiobook.

Book 1, The Daemon Of Synar, is currently offered as a free series starter. I’m offering Book 2, The Daemon Master’s Wife, free when you join my mailing list. 

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Visiting The Realm Of Reads-A-Lot

My writing life is full of ups and downs. Some days I sit at the computer and stare at the next chapter heading and wonder where I’m going to find the words. These seem to be compounded by life events that interrupt my obsessive writing habits. Grandchild number 6 made his grand appearance last week. So did Spring. So did my seasonal allergies, which put me in bed and gave me some unexpected reading time.

I am a huge Elizabeth Gilbert fan. She wrote Eat. Pray. Love., but also many other books. I found her through the one that brought her into the spotlight, but I stayed a fan because I find the woman as inspiring as her work. Gilbert is a kindred writer soul in terms of honoring the creative process that keeps her writing.

I think my muse delWrite Sign, love for creative writing, for writers and authors and education.iberately sends Gilbert’s books into my line of sight when he—yes my muse is a he—gets fed up with my bouts of writing lethargy. Before that, he’ll torture me with long hours of nothing but my shoulders bent over my keyboard with my fingers still until the screen goes black. I have to wait until he not
ices that my back is hurting and my butt has gone numb, and then he will sometimes finally send the story inspiration back to me. Or at least this is how it feels. He is more my dungeon master than my muse at times.

Most writers read a lot and I am a voracious reader. When I am not actively writing, my typical consumption is around 3 books a week with one usually being non-fiction of some sort. I pre-order books I want and when they arrive on my ereader, it’s like Christmas.  I intend to just read a chapter to see what a book is like, but instead I read half the book before I can make myself stop.

Gilbert’s latest book is about the magic of inspiration and how it motivates us to create. 

Here is a TED talk Gilbert did about creativity and how hard it is to keep writing if you believe your best work is perhaps behind you. Nearly every book makes me feel like this, so I listened to it again today. I reminded myself, that like Gilbert, I am a mule. I know what my work is and I show up. But if you see my muse, will you put in a good word for me? There are couple of books that really need to get finished. Thanks.

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