So I am not only brain dead but I also just threw my back out. Like this afternoon. Which is silly because I wasn’t doing anything. Just… life.

There’s a bunch of stuff rolling out this quarter and as soon as I get confirmation about dates and all of that, I’ll share it with you.

Savior is on sale at DSP for $4.89 until Aug 14. AND Rebel is on sale for 99 cents for the rest of August I believe.

https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/savior-by-rhys-ford-9856-b

Badger is a pain. He plays way too hard but he’s settling into the idea that he’s at home. The adjustment has been difficult for him and well, the dog is frightened to death of him. For good reason because no matter where Gus turns, there’s a cat attacking his ass…which came with a very fluffy cat toy we all call a tail.

I am working on Hellion. Man, Ivo’s a pain in the ass.

 

 

I am done with a holiday short I was working on. It went a little bit longer than I’d expected. As well… most things.

 

Morning!

Yesterday I made the decision to start looking to bring another cat into our household.

This isn’t an easy decision to make. I’ve had two writers’ cats over the decades… Opala and Yoshi… and well, I miss having a writer’s cat. And it’s not that the other cats in the household aren’t loved and adored because trust me, Harley lacks for NOTHING. I just bought morsel cat food because she decided pate wasn’t to her liking last night so now we’re gonna donate about 23 cans of pate cat food because she turned her nose up at it. The cat lacks for nothing.

But she’s not a writer’s cat.

It’s hard to describe the difference. Maybe it’s the company they give or the opinions they have. Harley has no opinion about anything other than her food, toys and well, chewing on the dog’s butt while he’s eating. I need an opinionated cat. I think that’s the gist of it. And a cuddler isn’t a bad way to go.

So, the search begins. I have a prospect I hope will turn out. I’ll let you all know. In the meantime, cuddle those around you and well, I’m going back to wording.

For everyone looking for Tequila Mockingbird… for some reason Amazon glitched and dropped it off the face of the Earth for the Kindle version. It was there for years and then, it’s become Moby Dick. DSP has been trying to get them to respond and put it back but so far, crickets.

So in the meantime, if you are looking for Connor and Forest’s book, you can always purchase it on Dreamspinner. And I swear, by all that is holy and pepper oil, we will continue to work on Amazon restoring that listing.

https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/tequila-mockingbird-by-rhys-ford-4502-b

So I’m taking a little hiatus because well, health stuff and my brain’s just shot.

Watching a lot of Chopped. Realize people have absolutely no idea what to do with noodles. Of course I sure as hell wouldn’t know what to do with an elk heart. I mean I could fake it but let’s face it, it’ll probably come out like a hard rock. Or I’d make stuffing out of it. *grins*

It’s always interesting to see what throws people when they open that basket. And how they just tap out of using something. And then there are people who have never seen or heard of a crumpet but claim they are reps of world cuisine.

Dude, if you’ve never seen or heard of a crumpet, you can’t claim world cuisine. That’s like not knowing what a pop tart is.

I watch Chopped to judge people. Pretty much.

Tests came back okay.

Guts are a mess but that’ll be dealt with.

I do need some breathing time.

Now I’m watching Chopped.

Why does the chef judge need to “get up out of her chair to see what’s going on”?

Like I’d want someone coming to talk to me while I’m trying to deal with some bastard food basket.

I’ve got some funky health things going on and I won’t talk to the next doc until Tuesday.

Now, I’m by nature a worrier and I can stress like no one else. Anxiety attacks? Not a problem, I’ve got all flavours.

But man, waiting tires you out, even if you know for pretty certain that it’s something fixable. Because…suppose it isn’t?

So, lots of water… no rockets in my salad… and walk around the building a couple of times when I’m feeling squirrely in the head.

And write. That’s hard to do when your brain’s running into walls. But damn it, I’m going to get this book done!

I actually want to talk about an event in my life that embedded something inside of me. I think I’ve talked about this before but if you’ve heard the story, feel free to skip it.

I was probably about eleven or twelve and we were living in Waianae on the leeward side of O’ahu. Now, there were a lot of issues with me back then. And I’m not to go into them here but needless to say, I was struggling to stay afloat. I was being bombarded at all sides and the support system I had recently disintegrated following the deaths of my two grandfathers as well as the collie I’d been given as a baby. This led to an escalation of violence and abuse by my father who no longer had anyone to tell him to stop.

See, I was trying so hard to find out who I was and to survive should’ve loved and protected me but pretty much was willing to kill me, both physically and psychologically. My world was an upside down mess of a labyrinth and I was lost.

One day I’d gone out with my younger sister — she’s four years younger than I am — and I had some money on me. We stopped at a bakery because I was going to buy us donuts. She picked out one and I picked out another but I didn’t have enough money on me.

The woman behind the counter told me to come back tomorrow with the difference. Her coworker who was standing behind her told her that was the wrong thing to do because I would not return with the money. I remember her looking at that other woman and say sometimes you have to trust, sometimes you have to give people the opportunity to do the right thing.

It was like fifteen cents and I made sure I stopped by after school the next day and gave it to her. She turned to her coworker said, “See?”.

I still can’t even talk about this without crying.

She gave me something very special that day. She taught me what integrity was.

It wasn’t something I understood and there was a dual purpose to be returning, one because she extended her trust to me and I kind of wanted to say fuck you to the other woman. Because she made me less than what I was, or at least less who I wanted to be.

I didn’t practice that lesson until I turned nineteen and realized I didn’t care for the person I was. And it’s not like I’m a fantastic person. I am envious and jealous and spiteful and angry and I still question the value and whether or not I make a difference. My legacy will not be children or a groundbreaking, life altering discovery that changes the world. And I question that too because why are we here if only to exist?

I think we have to do better than just survive our lives. Or at least I hope that’s the point of all of this. That woman changed who I was, who I was going to be. And it may sound stupid but it was a single defining moment I can point to and say, someone believed there was a bit of humanity in me and I refused to let them down.

So, to the nameless woman who worked in a Waianae bakery over forty years ago, I say thank you. You did something for someone. Something they carried with them their entire lives. I cannot repay you for the gift you gave but I hope to give it to others. I hope your life is wonderful and joy filled and I am eternally grateful for your faith.

Take what you want out of this post. I just needed to share this today. Hope it reminds you there are good people out there, and maybe even remind you that you’re one too. ❤

I adore Manny. He seems like a very heartfelt person. He also does some great makeup. But like many of us, life sometimes is a struggle and I admire he and his father for making this video. Kudos to their love and strength.