Anna Scott Graham's Blog, page 39

Part One: Lives in disarray

As an author of fiction, I draw on a fairly vivid imagination. Yet never have I conjured what occurred in Newport News, Virginia last Friday; twenty-five-year-old Abby Zwerner was shot by one of her students, a six-year-old boy. This child, whose identity and that of his family/caregivers has been concealed, took a loaded handgun to school and in an altercation he shot his teacher.

A six-year-old youngster shot his teacher.

I've been mulling over this absurd yet true statement all weekend. I've prayed for all involved, including the rest of those children within Ms. Zwerner's class, who were ordered to flee for safety. I've pondered some rather far-flung scenarios amid this nation's ultra-conservative right wing who claim any infringement on the second amendment is damaging to their rights as gun owners. I've wondered how the newly sworn in members of the House of Representatives responded, especially those that spent all of last week asserting their rights to keep that chamber from doing its job. I've considered how polarized is this country, and that if this latest horror doesn't usher in changes to America's obsession with weapons of harm what sort of catastrophe will, if any? All of that made for many moments of unrest within my soul, on a variety of levels; a young woman remains in hospital because she was shot by a child at her place of work.

A young woman was shot by a child at her place of work. Other children witnessed this violence.

Part of me fears that America is so far down a road of insanity when it comes to common sense laws concerning gun safety that nothing will change. Hardline second amendment advocates will continue to assert their litanies. A divided legislature won't enact any meaningful measures. But I want to repeat what has occurred: A young woman was shot by a child at her place of work. That is indisputable.

Heroes and villains make up fiction. Who is the villain here, a six-year-old?  Could that child have truly understood his actions? My heartbeat fluctuates as I write this post, how depraved is such a notion, that a child placed in his backpack a loaded firearm, taking it to school. That this child knew enough about the gun to use it. Who teaches a child such vile lessons? In what kind of society is this level of mayhem acceptable?

Abby Zwerner's life will never be as it was before. Neither will this child or his classmates or those close to them. Any person who finds this news less than greatly disturbing needs to deeply examine the dangerous road this nation continues to pursue in relation to enacting responsible gun laws.

A young woman was shot by a child. Evil festers within America.

Plenty of colour

Christmas lights offering an ethereal glow.

With it being the twelfth day of Christmas, these lights, and the placemats on the dining table, are the last vestiges of our holiday decorations. I did very little in the way of sprucing up the house last month, our beloved's fight against cancer taking some of the wind from my sails. My lengthy sojourn away from home was another part of it; by the time I returned, it felt far too late in the season to scatter mementos. I had Christmas coasters lying about, lights on the front fence, and a few cards adorning windowsills. That felt like enough holiday decorations for me.

My malaise turned out as a blessing after the earthquake hit; not only was there less to clear up, but the notion that some of my breakables could have been damaged. I try to follow the spirit in all manners of my life, and am grateful to gone with that guidance, not berating myself for being lazy or not wishing to partake of the usual festive air that December brings. And in eleven months, when again the Christmas season dawns, hopefully I'll be led to dot the house with special trinkets, aware some need to be placed safely in case another quake occurs.

Yet the lights pictured above knew no harm; they have twinkled 24/7 throughout the last four weeks, brightening our dark cloudy days, illuminating the evenings, and mornings, hehehe. I'm of two minds about when to remove them, enjoying their splash of colour but aware that exclusiveness shines even brighter when limited to an auspicious season. Not that we suddenly have loads of daylight, only that with the second week of January approaching, it's time to put away December 2022 and embrace 2023. We're slated for a break in the storms this morning, perhaps I'll remove the lights then.

Or maybe not; pops of primary colours are no longer tied to Christmas as when I was a kid. Twinkling lights are strewn for myriad celebrations in a variety of sizes. Maybe I'm drawn to them because they remind me of fabrics, haha. I spent much of yesterday afternoon cutting prints for the next round of my Alexandria quilt, both the blues and greens for 2" hexagons and the smaller 1" jewel shapes to form inner stars around which the larger hexies will rest. Those jewels are a variety of hues, each sporting a pale yellow 1" hexie center. I have two totes for this project, one for fabrics waiting to be employed, a second for those already cut and their accompanying papers. And the latter is starting to fill up, a dozen hexagon-flower blocks with most of their jewel centers waiting to be basted.

That's a LOT of colour, believe me, but currently tucked away. Maybe that's why I want to leave the lights shining, needing those beautifully bright shades during these still dark days. I also wonder if focusing so much on the Alexandria quilt is due to the rather muted colour palate I've chosen for two other projects. Well, that Alex was hogging my cutting table, ahem. Now that it's been moved, there's room for pulling out a more sedate pile of prints, not that I require more to sew, just that the Myrtle and Mandolin quilts need some blocks prepped. I've found that each of these projects possesses its own vibe, moving my year of slow stitching along just fine. And don't forget the Cornflower quilt; dude, that's a lot of paper piecing!

Perhaps instead of taking down the lights, I'll spend time at the ironing board, pressing fabrics. I have some extra totes and can store prepped prints and papers for when the mood strikes. The Christmas season might be over, yet the essence is so meaningful and necessary. Our days aren't visibly lengthening anytime soon, best to let colours twinkle while they may.

Prepared for contingencies

A nearly finished Myrtle block; a dark blue perimeter remains all that is left to attach.

Another large storm is hitting the West Coast today; our rainfall in Humboldt County will be measurable, but more worrisome are the wind gusts, perhaps as high as seventy miles per hour. Sustained winds could range in the thirty-forty MPH range and we are under a wind and flood watch until tomorrow morning. We've already lost power briefly this morning, but I had shut down my computer before that occurred, am currently writing this from an aged laptop that still gets the job done. Not any writing mind you, that solely happens on my PC. But I can compose this entry and poke around the internet until we lose power and our modem ceases to function.

Yet that's a mere hindrance to life; my husband filled our petrol can last night so we can run our generator if necessary. We have water stockpiled, plus I filled extra containers this morning. Black and fruit tea await in travel mugs and our pantry is pretty well supplied with immediate vittles. We own a gas stove for cooking and lots of battery-operated candles. We also have regular candles, but what with aftershocks still prevalent I am hesitant to light them. And as this storm originates from the south it's not cold out, so a fire later will warm us enough. Moving from Silicon Valley to the North Coast for retirement has proved quite the adventure, and we're grateful to be as prepped as we are.

Speaking with my beloved yesterday, I inadvertently coined the phrase an attitude of gratitude; immediately I smiled, noting that would become my mantra for 2023, and hopefully the mainstay for the rest of my life. After Sunday's 5.4 quake, Rio Dell was again hit badly, another forty-plus homes yellow and red-tagged due to the damage. More inspectors are heading there to assess all that has befallen the small community, as well as Fortuna, just north of Rio Dell. What we experienced on Sunday during that aftershock, while not enjoyable, posed no harm to our home. Our nerves are certainly rattled, why we have extra petrol and water at the ready for this atmospheric river. I need to say that years ago warm winter storms were termed a pineapple express, as they came eastward from Hawaii. But atmospheric river sounds more menacing, probably what the media prefers. I will also note that winds gusts reaching past fifty MPH are due such a moniker, and if we maintain power all day I will be GREATLY SURPRISED! Pleasantly shocked, let me add, but astonished nonetheless.

Wanting to maintain as much routine as possible, I worked on my WIP early this morning, the wind occasionally howling in the darkness. Two chapters of The Earthen Chronicles were managed, then I saved it onto the flash drive that dwells in my upper left desk drawer, shutting down my machine for the day. I have also secured that tower with quake putty to my desk, wishing to take as few chances as possible. All these notions are ones previously unconsidered, even for living in the San Francisco Bay Area for over a dozen years. Here in Humboldt County, life is quite different.

I plan to spend much of the day working on various EPP projects; regardless of what the wind does, I have a sofa where the light is good and plenty to stitch. I also want to further ponder thankfulness, praying for those whose homes have been deemed uninhabitable. As rain now pelts our windows, I have a dry, comfortable place in which to live, we still have power. If I grow tired of sewing, I can always pick up pen and paper, making notes for my WIP or write to those I love. The glass needs to remain at least half full, but not completely filled, so there is room for blessings to overflow. An attitude of gratitude; may you know that grace today.

Another wonderful year

The centre of my Alexandria Quilt; I do like me some blue!

Today's title emerges wholly from the desire to embrace all that is good in this world. maybe that's an excellent way to begin the year, or perhaps foolish. I suppose it's better to start off thinking positively, being mindful of blessings, according them all due. Life might get sticky later on, but how about some warm vibes to usher in 2023.

It's raining here, an alternate kind of brightness. We're hoping for an exceedingly wet winter, and this week's forecast is plenty of precipitation! I received several new mugs for Christmas, perfect for plentiful cups of piping hot beverages. And some nice coffee was also gifted, which I'll enjoy until it's gone.

Today's photo is of my Alexandria quilt; it's certainly coming along, and despite thinking I would work on it every other day, I can't stop sewing on it. Right now it's in a sew and sew again mode; I can't cut fabric for new sections until I stitch together all you see on my table, not really a conundrum, more of an impetus to thread needles, then get to the hand sewing! I'm pleasantly surprised at how it has become my quilting focus, other projects taking a backseat, although last night I completed a random 8-point diamond block that I think I'm going to include in my Cornflower quilt despite it not having an octagonal center or green diamonds on the perimeter. It will be a nice random block in the quilt, which has no set-in-stone end date or home.

As for the writing, most days I've been revising a few chapters of The Earthen Chronicles Book 1 (TEC), although that hasn't yet occurred today. I do think I am going to offer the entire series of That Which Can Be Remembered as a boxed set, maybe aiming for a late January release? I was mulling over when to publish TEC, perhaps in late April/early May. Then if I get the second book written, it can be released around the end of the year. I don't feel compelled to rush that series, at least with a sequel still so formless. Maybe once it's done and I have a firm grasp of where this saga is headed, I'll feel more expedience is required.

2023 is beginning with plenty of rain and one take-over-the-sewing-table kind of quilt but not much else clearly defined. I chalk that up to this post-Covid world, a beloved still fighting cancer, and my own aging. I'm fifty-six years old, and while I feel well, emotionally I'm in a strange place, partly due to the earthquake; a 5.4 aftershock occurred yesterday morning while we were at church, although the shock's rolling nature caused no tangible damage. And actually, it serves as a good benchmark, that a non-jolty-jerking 5.4 quake is FINE (and that our original 6.4 quake REALLY WAS a lot stronger than that 6.4 indicates)! Yet we left the service early, as did others, slipping out while our pastor quickly made a phone call, confirming loved ones were okay. Nature butts up against all our human desires, putting a lot in perspective. Yet all those basted shapes you see above were right where I had left them, only a page-a-day calendar splayed out, easily rectified. Breathing deeply, I start off this year with plans for afternoon stitching, maybe some editing, definitely laundry to do and dishes to wash. And an extreme gratitude for another moment to proffer my talents in whatever manner necessary. We've been shaken and stirred, but still standing. Lead on January, I'm (mostly) ready for what comes next.

2022 in review

From left clockwise: a fun diagonal quilt, my granddaugther's EPP classic, seedlings and an EPP hexie.

Wow, it's nearly the end of the year, how did that occur? Days tick past, weeks turning into months and suddenly it's time for new calendars, new quilts, new books.... I've been reading through The Earthen Chronicles Book 1 for a few days, starting to feel the sequel forming in my head, a great sensation. You can enjoy the first chapter of that tale at the end of my latest release, That Which Can Be Remembered, now available at major online retailers. Just a little plug for that novel, as well as reminding anyone wishing to get a copy for free of its predecessor Gracious Mysteries to head over to Smashwords, where GM is on sale for two more days during Smashwords' End of Year Sale. However, I am strongly considering making a box set of that series, and all three books would be priced for free. I need a new cover for that publication, we'll see how that comes about next month.

In the meantime, 2022 was full of prepping that series for release; revisions are so different from writing, kind of like comparing machine sewing to paper-piecing. Or maybe it's more like sowing seeds, then transferring those plants into the ground. I did a lot of all of that this year, with mixed results on the garden but better returns on the writing and sewing. I may concentrate on growing flowers in 2023, which seemed to do better overall compared to veggies. We did have success with peas and green beans, and the strawberries did well once we removed the pea vines that had been suffocating them, lol. It's a little strange conjuring spring and summer pastimes, our thankfully wet and cool (but not cold) weather more suited to contemplating the writing and quilting. I completed some big paper piecing projects, proffering me a lot of pleasure to have those done and gifted. I made a futzy baby quilt that turned out lovely, also teaching me that paper piecing is my preferred manner of making something complicated. I enjoyed the novelty of Halloween prints, playing around with LOTS of scraps, making hexie shirts and hexie onesies. Sewing remains one of my fave hobbies, and I am greatly anticipating how a year of mostly slow stitching evolves, with a few baby quilts machine pieced already on the docket, hehehe.

Again from left clockwise: Halloween coasters, a lap quilt, Christmas coasters, a Mandolin EPP beauty, the gorgeous Honeycomb Stars quilt and museum putty which worked well during the recent earthquake.

But ultimately my heart lies with writing, even if not much new was produced this past year. Up front I'll note that my November foray into NANOWRIMO was a bust, another lesson learned. Yet this blog reemerged in 2022, I finished, prepped, and released a series of which I am VERY proud and pleased. I worked on a draft written in 2013, The Earthen Chronicles, deciding to make that saga-in-progress my next literary project. I hemmed and hawed about that, because I wasn't certain that diving into another lengthy plot met my heart's desire. Even when including the first chapter at the end of TWCBR, I was still on the fence. Perhaps I added it to give myself some necessary incentive; Present Me was nudging Future Me toward a story that Present Me hadn't truly felt able to embrace, yet knew was important for some reason or another. And as these things go, over the last week I have indeed fallen hard for this tale, which revolves around how Earth fell into very bad times, but might be resurrected by those from another galaxy equally troubled. There's a synopsis for you, if The Earthen Chronicles Book 1 at all sounds tempting. And up front I'll also admit that I have no idea how many books will result in this series, it's definitely similar to how I wrote The Hawk, kind of in fits and starts over the course of five years. FIVE YEARS??? Dude, that's taking me into my sixties! 

Hang on there Future Me; no one is saying The Earthen Chronicles is going to require five years, Present Me is merely indicating how one behemoth began without firm parameters, and that turned out just fine. Okay, deep breath taken. If I can embrace an Alexandria Quilt, why not commit to a story where The End is unknown. That's certainly how life goes, as our beloved in the Midwest has received good news about his CAR-T treatment; no lymphoma cells remain! Yet extensive side effects are limiting his mobility, and we take his continued presence in this realm with immense joy. And if nothing else, 2022 has reminded me that our corporeal existences are blessed gifts to be used to bring love and peace to others. I am SO GRATEFUL to have prose and fabrics, plants too, at my disposal to share those treasures. May your 2022 end on a lovely note and let's all celebrate another year with joy and thanksgiving!

An early start to 2023

The center block for my Alexandria Quilt.

Maybe my year of slow stitching has already begun; I've been inundated in paper pieces, several different kits capturing my attention. But after reading the latest news from Afghanistan, that women have been denied the opportunity to be educated and are barred from non-governmental jobs, I was spurred to start the Alexandria Quilt from Tales of Cloth. The theme of this encompassing project is peace, blue and yellow for Ukraine joined by a plethora of rainbow hues ala one of the colourful banners used by protesters in Iran. I'd planned on breaking into this beautiful design sometime next week, adding it to a lengthy list of English paper pieced quilts that will encompass the next twelve-plus months of my sewing life. Yet the Iranian slogan of women, life, freedom has permeated my consciousness since Mahsa Amini was murdered in late September. Making a quilt is a small but personal way to show my support and solidarity. And the Alexandria pattern carries a deep meaning to me, a medallion quilt that when Jodi Godfrey offered it back in 2019, I strongly considered joining that year's club. But the size of the papers was a deterrent; ranging from three-quarter inch hexies and jewels to one and a half inch diamonds and hexagons, I balked at basting hexies and jewels that small.

Yet I never forgot that pattern, wondering if I was brave enough to attempt such a complicated design. And a large pattern, why the papers were so sized. Godfrey's first attempt with it employed one and two-inch papers, which felt doable to me, although the resulting quilt would be enormous. Yet if one augmented the pattern, the enlarged paper pieces wouldn't be an issue. I spent a fair amount of November colouring and changing my mind, both about the hues and attempting such a massive commitment. Plenty of other EPP quilts are already underway, but I couldn't turn away from this project. Ordering pieces in November, I didn't bother going through my stash, assuming in December there would be time to line up fabrics. Then I spent over a week far from home, and when I returned, there was Christmas prep to sort. Then an earthquake struck and while the paper pieces were delivered, I had yet to coordinate the necessary prints. I began the Mandolin quilt, worked on Myrtle blocks, basted pieces for the Lavender Quilt and completed another Cornflower block. Wasn't that enough paper piecing for 2023?

Amid reading about the latest restrictions in Afghanistan, my thoughts turned to those women so unjustly suffering from misogyny. Something about their plight, coupled with Iranian protests and the ongoing conflict in Ukraine, has led me to begin the Alexandria Quilt. An afternoon was spent rummaging through fabrics, making notes and pinning them to various prints, then the cutting started, pieces collected, piles arranged. I started an Instagram account to document this journey, which I assume will go past 2023; even with trimming some of the pattern, I'm still looking at a big quilt, easily a queen bed comforter. But that's a long ways from now. Currently my focus is basting center pieces, and I'm taking it slowly, there's no rush. I'm also cutting generously, not wishing to stress about narrow seam allowances. I want to thoroughly enjoy all the various processes so that this quilt is steeped in bliss, based on peace, stitched with prayers sent for an end to conflict all over this planet with human rights for all fully respected.

Happy Christmas

Christmas hexie coaster that won't necessarily be put away anytime soon.

A few phrases have survived in my lexicon from our years in Yorkshire and Happy Christmas is top of the list. While my hubby and I are celebrating solo, video chats with family lessen the distances, as well as calls made earlier this week with relatives and dear friends. Our beloved battling cancer in the Midwest is improving, talk about miracles. And of course the most marvelous occurrence is feted today, the birth of a saviour in the guise of a migrant child born in extreme poverty. Christianity is full of contradictions, which later Christ told his followers was to mystify those unable to understand his message. Which is yet another oddity, but not for me to analyze today.

Today is about noting peace. Peace two thousand years ago, peace in our time, peace to last.... Forever, eternity, the ages. But I'll take peace right now; aftershocks continue here, the cold persists back east, other calamities worldwide. Yet in this small sliver of time, peace rules my heart, which was not the case earlier today. Peace matters. Peace heals. Peace is why a king was born in a stable. Makes little practical sense, but God is not about transparency. God is about faith. About believing in what seems impossible, unfathomable, perhaps not sane. Wars and famines still exist. Maladies strike and not all can be cured. After being ill all week this morning my youngest daughter tested negative for covid, but her youngest son tested positive. Shite happens, but peace remains.

The back because the fabric was handy and a good reminder regardless of how long into 2023 it's employed.

I spent much of yesterday making the coaster pictured at the top of this post; machine appliqueing it onto a rather dark piece of fabric, but I wanted the contrast. Then cutting fabric for the back, fashioning the quilt sandwich as well as the binding strip. A little machine quilting, adding said binding strip, an obligatory run through the washer and then it sat on the back of the sofa while I folded the rest of the clothes and attended to several other tasks. It wasn't until last night, as I took a break from some paper piecing, that I studied what had been so diligently sewn together, random scraps recovered from the mess that had been my sewing table flung to the floor, repurposed with a reason. The reason is to remind me that despite all attempts at this world figuratively and literally crushing my heart, peace reigns. God's peace, Christ's peace, hexie peace. Hexies patch blown-out knees, decorate shirts and onesies, transform small bits of cotton into a cohesive flower. May the strange but lasting love born years and years ago proffer you peace this Christmas Day in whatever manner befits your need. And I send you a virtual hexie hug!

Silver linings

A Christmas earthquake hexie flower.

As so many Americans huddle under frigid temperatures tonight, I'm grateful for our less chilly weather. Cleanup is progressing, although we keep finding errant possessions. Tonight my husband pushed the refrigerator back where it belongs, he also righted my bedside table. Pictures that had fallen to the floor, but not sustained damage, have been packed until I am ready to secure them with earthquake putty. I plan to tack down all that seems fragile or even possibly breakable. I may not be able to control how the ground trembles, but I can keep household items' movement to a minimum.

In cleaning my office/sewing room yesterday, I tackled supplies that required more than merely being placed once again on my tables. Fabrics were gathered, knick-knacks dusted. Scraps too small to work with were tossed, while a variety of paper shapes were collected, still waiting a proper home. But I came across some treasures that required time on the ironing board, a path to which was finally cleared late yesterday after my husband removed a pile of books from a fallen tall shelf. This afternoon I plugged in my iron, smoothed out creases, also pressing a yard-long section from some Christmas fabric to use for binding several holiday coasters in need of time under my walking foot. After cutting six strips from that print, I set about trimming one-inch hexie sized scraps, then took them downstairs, basting the shapes, then sewing them into a slightly Christmas coloured hexie flower. What I'll do with it is unknown, but it felt good to use those bits of cotton to construct something beautiful.

During this holiday season we have done little decorating. I was away from home for over a week, part of why the house lacks its usual Christmas sparkle. Now I am thankful for being reticent; it's been hard enough sorting through the mundane items. Would I have attached a negative connotation to Christmas baubles had they been part of the melee, not to mention what if some had been destroyed? Perhaps these are minor considerations, especially now with the bomb cyclone bearing down so definitively. Yet a few days post-quake, I have a little bit of bandwidth to ponder such notions. Christmas cards have been sent, that too was hanging over my head. I need to make a Go bag for the next quake, for this won't be our last. But I certainly hope there isn't another for a good while. The lessons I have learned from this experience need to be incorporated, both in practice and within my soul. In the meantime, I have a hexie flower to consider, making something lovely out of a frightening night.

Earthquake recovery

Records and box sets spilled out, blocking the door to a closet.

An unexpected beginning to our day yesterday; at 2.34 am a 6.4 quake roughly stirred us from bed. In all my years dwelling in California, I have never experienced such turbulence, and boy howdy, this one packed a punch. Several striking memories remain, reaching for my bedside phone, but finding it had been tossed to the floor along with a small bookcase. Putting on shoes as a 4.6 aftershock rumbled through. Locating my computer tower on the floor next to my desk (spoiler alert; once power was restored at 8 pm, both my machine and my husband's were just fine!). A large bookshelf was toppled, vinyl albums flung from shelves in the living room, a few dishes scattered on the floor. Several framed photos had fallen, but only two sported cracked glass, one from which I was able to extricate the picture. No structural damage to our knowledge, and we had hot running water and a generator going all day. For all that could have occurred, our home weathered the quake well. My peace of mind, however, is far from repaired.

I slept on the sofa last night, crashing before eight pm after such an early start. The power was still off, we used battery candles for illumination. I took one to gather bedding, our room on the second floor, and I was not all at ready to sleep there, not to mention it required a run with the hoover, which my husband accomplished after power was restored. Maybe it's good that our couch is only adequate for one night's rest; I'd probably crash here for subsequent evenings, not quite ready to be upstairs in the dark. My sense of safety was compromised mostly by a late afternoon aftershock, a 4.4 hit that occurred as I gathered scattered possessions from our floor. I went outside after that, collecting another wheelbarrow of firewood. Breathing deeply, I had to acknowledge that despite how well our home weathered the quake, my inner peace was still reeling. And it's tenuous this morning too; I could hear my husband stirring as I brought the morning brews into the living room, but no way could I take the stairs to see him. I'm a fairly down to earth person, but right now this earth is a little too wobbly for my liking.

Yet that shaken faith lies alongside all that wasn't harmed; a tall plant stand remained erect, kitchen cabinets remained closed, two pantry shelves standing their ground. The arbitrary damage is intriguing, not to mention how my computer is still running, ahem. A vase underneath a fallen bookcase sustained no breaks, and all that I recently adhered to surfaces with earthquake putty didn't budge. I'm going to invest in a LOT of that, lol, but for now treasured photos have been boxed away. I may slap an entire package of putty underneath my PC tower; perhaps earthquake preparedness goes beyond extra water and flashlights. Will these steps enhance my sense of well-being, I certainly hope so!

But for how long will my unease last is unknown. It's ohmah polise, definitely a gracious mystery. Our beloved fighting cancer is out of ICU, very good news. And it's a new day, close to Christmas, much to celebrate. And contemplate. We're safe, the house is stable, and recovery takes as long as necessary. Ohmah polise all over the place. 

That Which Can Be Remembered

My latest novel!

Having returned home late yesterday, I gave brief consideration to releasing my newest book last night. However Future Me insisted I first get some decent sleep, and thankfully I listened. But on this beautifully sunny (and chilly) day, may I present the final installment in my latest series, the aptly titled That Which Can Be Remembered.

Available on Smashwords, and soon enough on other fine online retailers, TWCBR concludes what began as a road trip for Brynn Dahl and her family to find one thought lost to a menacing plague. Along the way they reunite with old friends, then are led to a faraway ranch whereupon dwells a figure from Brynn's past who carries no memories of their life together. I don't recall from where this plot originated, but all these characters are dear to my heart, snippets of Brynn's Vodali language having made their way into my lexicon. Especially in conjunction with my clan's current travails, ohmah polise seems inescapable; inexplicable occurrences must be embraced with open arms despite how unseemly they appear.

Within this novel love is discovered as danger threatens to separate Nasri from Timral. Lon and Finn's teenage banter was a joy to develop, as was Ronan's continued healing. But Brynn and Strivek take center stage, finding amid his lost memories a path they can perhaps walk together. I won't say any more, other than all of these folks, Pollette, Mo, and Mirella included, brought me incredible delight which I am privileged to share with you readers. As a holiday treat, at the conclusion is a peek at my next series, the first chapter of The Earthen Chronicles Book 1, which will become my focus as soon as I've unpacked and sent off the last of the Christmas parcels.

That Which Can Be Remembered is a free novel and until the end of the year its predecessor Gracious Mysteries can be downloaded for free as well only on Smashwords in their year-end sale. Available in all formats, The Possibility of What If introduces this fine cast, my first foray into the fantasy genre. May their foibles and virtues bring you hours of entertainment this holiday season, also providing peace to your thuelans. As Mirella cautioned Pollette, doubt permits the possibility of what if!