Goal Setting

I start thinking about my goals for the upcoming year in November. I always try to be realistic. The past couple of years, life has gobsmacked my goals–family crises, day job dilemmas, and so on. Nevertheless, I persist.

I thought I had my 2018 goals pretty much set. I’d printed them out for my annual goal-setting session with my critique group:

  • Finish writing two werewolf books
  • continue search for agent for dystopian women’s fiction novel.
  • critique at least once per month
  • 2 critique group writing retreats
  • minimum 2 Thistle Dew retreats
  • Active social media presence
  • RWA/local chapter
  • self publish cross genre novella

Do-able, right?

Well, the calendar had even flipped before life gobsmacked me again: one of my publishers is closing.

This could be awful, but the letter sent to the authors assured us that we will receive reversion of rights letters by June of 2018. This is a good thing. They are closing their doors, not going bankrupt, so the books they’ve published aren’t assets, the rights to which can be tied up in the courts for a long time.

But now I have decisions to make: do I want to self-publish these titles? Do I want to try to place them with another publisher? If you re-read my writing goal punch list, none of these scenarios are there.

At least I have choices. I have five already-edited books that will be 100% mine to do with what I will. That’s a good thing.


Am I a Space Alien?

One of my nephews has informed me I must be part space alien.  Why? Because I have green eyes.

Then there is the Rh Negative blood theory.

I’ve never had strep throat in my life. Nor do I bother with a flu shot because, hey, I don’t get the flu. TV Stevie gets the flu. His doc then puts ME on Tamiflu, but really, it’s not necessary.

Here’s the kicker: my nephew had my parents’ DNA analyzed. My mom is 6% uncertain. (So is my nephew.)

Therefore, I am a descendent of space aliens (according to the circumstantial evidence).

It could be worse.

Goodbye DST, Return to Real Time

Most people love Daylight Savings Time because it “gives them an extra hour.” Well, no, it doesn’t. DST simply rearranges time in an official way so businesses adjust hours of operation without appearing to do so. And the weekend we change from standard to daylight savings time we actually lose an hour our lives. We got that back today. It’s not a gain of an hour. It’s a return of an hour we lent to DST.

Standard time is real time. The sun is directly overhead at noon. Which begs me to ask: when experts say to avoid lying out in the sun between 11AM and 1PM do they mean daylight savings time or standard time? So during the summer, when the US is mostly on DST, wouldn’t the hours be 10AM-12NN?

Another oddity about the time change: I have a deplorable habit of waking up at 4AM. It doesn’t matter whether it’s 4AM EST or 4AM EDT, it’s always 4AM.

If you’re interested in the pros, cons, whys, and wherefores of DST, this website lays it out in an understandable manner.


Happy National Greasy Food Day!

I love greasy food.

Years ago, I discovered greasy fast food helps with hangover queasiness. Maybe the grease protects the stomach lining from alcohol burn.  (Not drinking to excess really helps protect the stomach. And the head.)

The human body needs fat to function. In moderation, of course.

So indulge in your favorite greasy food today.



Yes, it is a day to celebrate color. I love color. Bold, bright, vivid color. Color makes me happy.

I live in a place where many months the landscape is nothing but shades of gray and brown. Sometimes the sky is blue, but not often. It’s depressing. One of the best things about spring is the bursts of color when flowers start to bloom. And fall. Autumn in my corner of the world is stunning, as if one last hurrah before the bleakness of the winter months.

If I had my way, my house would be filled with color. I have a Pinterest board where I keep pictures of the world in which I would love to live.

Color is the world’s way of giving us a great big hug.