Mardi-Gras/Birthday Supper, Riding the RollFast, So long to some things and hello to others,

I had a wonderful birthday Saturday. If you are with me on Facebook, you've already seen the photos from my bike ride on my RollFast Flightweight bike, and then our Regulars (three of our friends who we have over regularly) over to a Mardi-Gras/Birthday supper. Wheeee!

I'm deep into writing VK III now, and as well working on Rose & Thorn and some other projects. Which means my visiting you all is disjointed and willy nilly. I do try to get out and visit and see what you all are up to, for I enjoy it. However, in reality, I know I can't get around like I used to and for this I apologize to you. I know you all are busy and still you come by to support and say hello. I do try to keep up with things on Facebook because I can see things at a glance or see networked blogs, so if you are on FB, please come friend me so I can keep up with you that way, too! Also, those "subscribe to this blog" things help, for they go directly to my hotmail account and I can see them and click on them.

Do you know I went the entire night Saturday at the little log house while our friends were over with my socked-feet? I completely forgot to put on my shoes and didn't even realize it until later that evening after everyone was gone and I was readying myself for bed *laughing* . . . oh well . . . haw!

For "writing stuff Monday," I'll leave you today with an "article" I wrote for BelleBooks Blog. I'll be doing a series of posts for them here and there. This one is "Why I'm Giving Up Booksignings." Since I decided this, it feels as if a fifty-pound weight has left my shoulders! Now I can concentrate on other events here and there as time lets me, like the nursing home I'll be visiting next month, libraries, book clubs (I love book clubs and libraries!), and other events such as those. Skyping with book clubs is fun - if you have a book club and Skype and are interesting in meeting, just email me *smiling* Now I can concentrate on my writing more, as well. Believe me, the best part of book signings is meeting people, but the focus strays from that and it wears on me. Concentrating on other kinds of events will lift me up, and I hope others, too.

down in the valley

Now, I must get to work on VK III. This book has taken me on a journey I did not expect. I had to delete thousands and thousands of words: about three-quarters of the book-poof-Gone! Oh yes. I did. Lawd! But now the way is clear and I'm letting Virginia Kate tell it as she feels best. Katie Ivene (Momma) and Rebekha are coming through Virginia Kate's storytelling. It's as if she wants to tell the story of Three Mothers: herself, Rebekha, Momma. I don't know. Guess I'll see where this goes.

Now, go grab a few fist-fulls of the day. And tell me: When's the last time you road a bike (Saturday!)? What kind of cake did you have for your birthday (I had Kings cake!)? If you write, have you ever deleted most of your book in both terror and excitment (yes!)? Have you ever forgotten to put on your shoes for a dinner party (um teehee YES!)?

Black Hole Brains, Chaos, and On the Brink

While at the On the Brink Conference, I learned to Own some things about myself instead of fighting them. To stop feeling as if I don’t quite Measure Up.


Each of the two sessions had three authors, and each author would rise from their chair, go to the podium, and then read from their book/talk to the audience. I was in Session II. The authors who preceded me and the one who followed me were prepared. They had picked out something special to read and seemed to know what they were going to say to the audience. Guess what Kathryn, ole Kat, ole Boop, did? Guess how she prepared. She didn’t. She never does.

Even during a break before my group of three authors went up to the podium, I didn’t scan through my book to find something to read, didn’t prepare my short talk. I just figured it would all work out. Ungh. “It’ll all work out” is kind of scary when you are to speak to an audience of readers, writers, literary people, bookseller(s), academics. Ungh.

My turn. I went to the podium on rubbery legs, my mouth dry. So, the first thing I told the audience was, “I’m not even going to pretend I am not nervous, for as many of these things as I do, I am ALWAYS nervous. So, just give me a moment to picture you all in your underwear.” Okay, that’s such a clichéd moment, but it helped give me a minute to catch my breath. And from there, I opened my mouth and words fell out: about how we are all creative creatures and about creativity, and then an anecdote that suddenly came to me from when I was a child and some blabbity do dah day spewed—

But what I next explained was how I am as a writer, a friend, a person, a speaker. I asked them to imagine a mysterious but beautiful Black Hole in space, and how as we approach the black hole, we are moving faster and faster at lightning speed, but yet, as we come to the edge of the black hole things slow down almost to a stopping point, and then we are spaghettified and sucked into the black hole where inside are all manner of wondrous things but no one can see them, and, I explained, that is how my brain works—memory, events, people, names, characters, everything I experience or see or read is sucked into the black hole where I can’t See them. That I have very few memories I can recall, that I can’t picture things in wholes but in pieces, that I don’t even know what my characters look like, or the characters in books I read look like. But, as I write, the black hole provides what I need. I wanted them to see how nothing should stop us from creating, not even weird brains.

 If I would have had visuals, I’d have shown them how I, for example, see a STOP sign. I can’t see the entire STOP sign no matter how I try—the letters look piecey (sometimes I see Spot instead of Stop), parts of the letters are missing or blurred, the sign is surrounded by white space with these disjointed letters. No matter how hard I try to picture the STOP sign, my black hole brain will not provide it in its entirety. This is how it is with me with anything I try to imagine: white space surrounding pieces. To fight it only brings frustration. But, when I sit down to write, everything calms. Everything is as it should be. There is no frustration. The Black Hole provides. I feel at peace with my chaotic weird brain. We work together, brain and I, instead of against each other.

As I looked out at the audience, I saw one young man staring at me with his mouth in an O of dumbfoundedness, as if to say “What the hell is she talking about? Black holes in her brain. Huhn?” Oh that look he had made me want to laugh. But I also saw nodding heads, interest, smiles.

I then opened my book to a random page and read a couple of paragraphs, hoping for the best, but giving it my all.

When I was done, and after we all were mingling round later in the auditorium, I was surprised at how many people came to me to say they enjoyed my talk; how interesting it was; how they were now inspired to go write or create something. Huhn. Well, who knew? More people were interested in talking about my little talk than asking about my book *laughing* Someone suggested I go round doing these talks—me? And my black hole brain? Talking to groups/audiences? Well, I’ll be.

So, what I learned is: this is how I am no matter if I try to fight it. I have a weird brain. I’m spontaneous and chaotic. I am finally learning to accept this Black Hole brain. I’m learning to accept who I am, weirdness and discombobulations and chaos and all.

Looking out at that audience at Jacksonville State University, I saw all those expectant faces waiting for me to say something magical, and all I could really give them is Myself as I am and hope for the best. And in return, they listened and took what they needed from it and used it to fit in the spaces that needed filling. My black hole brain will continue to suck up things until the day it is full to bursting, then a quasar will burst forth and that will be the end, a spectacular end or a new beginning to a strange and lovely brain.

image black hole/quasar image
stop
woman letters face

Tacky Sparkly $3 Tees, Sweetie Article, REM

I have no idea what this is that I captured from my car
one evening in Jacksonville-that's not snow

Since this is link/video/photo day, I will tell just one part about the conference today—the part about the tacky sparkly $3.00 Wal-Mart tee. I'll relay the rest of the conference in subsequent posts.


When I packed for the conference, it was chilly here, so I packed warm things. When I dressed for the public TV thing (Bookmark with Don Noble), I wore a shell with a wool blazer. Only thing was, it had turned hot and humid. I couldn't take off the blazer, because the shell wasn’t made to wear alone. I ran to Wal-Mart, the closest store around, and raced to the women’s clothes. Hmm, only thing, most of the clothes were either Maw Maw Muu Muu or Younger Than I Should. I managed to grab two short-sleeved blouses that would make-do, plus a few other things I needed. Why I bought the sparkly tee is anyone’s guess—it was $3 and it sparkled and it had designs on it and was this brightish blue, and for some reason I thought it would be fun under a jacket or to wear round the little log house. Er. Yeah.

view from my room in Hampton

When I raced back to my room at the Hampton, I dug through my bag for the shirt to wear to the show taping—oops. No taping shirt, only the $3 sparkly tee. I took off my sweater I'd had to wear to Wal-Mart, threw on the sparkly tee, ah much cooler!, and scurried back to the Wal-Mart. Guess what? They couldn't find my missing shirts. By then I had no time to go back to the hotel to change. Guess what I had to wear to the taping—you guessed it: the $3 tacky sparkly tee.

The sparklies rained down upon my pants and shoes as I drove to the university library, as I parked, as I ran to the room where they were taping the show, leaving a trail of sparkles everywhere I went. Teeheehee. Dang. The two other authors I saw were in their muted colors of black/white/grey, professional looking. And me, there I stood in my $3 tacky sparkly Wal-Mart tee, a glazed gleam in my eye (or maybe I just had sparkles in my eye from the tee). When they powdered my face to stop any shine, I asked, “Can you powder my tee?” They just laughed. Lawd. So when the show airs, I wonder if my sparkles will shine out; I wonder if people will laugh (meh, who cares! Haw!); I wonder if sparkles will be flying around the room like happy little spirits.

By the way, I never did find out what happened to the rest of my stuff I bought from Sprawlmart. And why, of all things, the sparkly tee made it back with me while the more subdued one did not—I guess it was meant to be. Lawd.

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Random Links

Interview/Review of Sweetie - Terry Matthews, Arts Editor of MYSSNews interviewed me about Sweetie - wonderful write up, I thought! Sweetie: Author talks about the wild, wonderful mountain girl who demanded to be heard

Also, I convinced Michael to put The Saga of Virginia Kate music on itunes and he did it! If you like the music and want to upload it, it is now there. I do not receive any compensation for this music-none, and do not want to, just so you know - I just want to support artists, musicians, any creative endeavors.

Been visiting Author Magazine here and there.
 
Agent Rachelle Gardner wrote up a great post on publishing that answers a lot of questions I am often asked. "How to get Published."
 
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Random Video. While I was downloading Saga of VK to my ipod, I also bought some other music, including some REM.
 
REM's Everybody Hurts . . .
 
 

Gut-sucking aliens - write what you know and stuff

Hi Everyone - I just returned home from On the Brink Conference in Jacksonville, Alabama yesterday evening. I am scrambling to catch up! I do want to tell you all about the conference and trip, so I will do that later this week. For now, I am going to repost something I wrote for Author Culture -- actually below is the draft of what would end up being polished a bit before going to them, but I didn't keep the polished version *teeheehee*  I'll be back later to talk about my trip. I hope to be by to visit soon as I catch  my breath!

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At book events, I often hear, “I have so many books in my head,” and I answer, “Then let them out!” That’s all that makes a writer—we let out the books. It’s both as simple, and as complicated, as that. I could have talked about Tender Graces till the cows mooed home, but until I sat me arse down and wrote the entire book, that’s all it would be: Talk, talk talk talk talk.


So what about this thing called writing? Well—

A writer writes –Yup, that old cliché is a cliché but as with most clichés it holds truths. If you want to be a writer, you must write, there’s simply no way around that one, although I’m sure there is someone out there breaking the rules and getting around it. However, for the majority of us, just as a dancer, a basketball player, a gymnast, or pianist must practice their craft, and practice often to become better at what they do, they must also produce a “product” from that practice. It is so with the writer.

Writing is work. Okay, yeah, writing can be fun, and wonderful and beautiful. Personally, I don’t want to do anything else, and all the years I had to work in an office instead of writing as I do now were soul-sucking years. I feel incredibly fortunate (hold on a minute while I shout out a big WHAHOOO! Because I get to write anytime I want to). However, there are times it feels like work, and there are times we may hate it. Suck it up and write anyway.

Make a schedule if you must until you are into the habit, or until you find your confidence. Oh, wait, I hate schedules, so how can I tell you to stick to them? Dang. That sounds like do as I say and not what I do. Okay, then try this: Find your comfort, find that thing that makes you want to keep your butt in your chair and write. Write anything or everything. Write when you are happy, sad, mad, in love, out of love, hate, disgust, yippey yi yo kai yai—write when something happens, write when nothing happens, make up something. Just write. That’s about it.

Read. What? You hate to read? *pant pant* Hold on a minute until I catch my breath (‘lizbeth, I’m coming!) Okay, I picked myself up off the floor. How can you be a good writer if you hate to read? Shoot, how’re you going to read your own work if you hate to read? I can picture it—you write The End and sit back with a satisfied sigh, there it’s done. But wait! You hate to read. What ever will you do? You certainly can’t read the 30,000 word novel you crafted, since reading is sooooo boring and awful and just so harrrrd. Oh, you mean 30,000 words isn’t enough? Well, dang. But you’re borrrreed and ready to write something ellllseee. Besides, you can read your own stuff, since you bet it’s the best thing you’ve ever (not) read. Well, then you may be the only one reading it because I stand by my statement: To be a good writer, one must read. I tell you what, since everyone who knows me knows I always say, “There are always exceptions,” I challenge you to find me a non reader who writes good books, or, I challenge you who hate to read to write a good book. There, the gauntlet is thrown—ha!

Write what you know does not mean you had to have experienced that particular event or feeling. For example, I can write about a character who is running from an alien who sucks all the guts out of people (or lives in their guts as in ALIEN). I’ve never run from a gut-sucking or gut-living alien, however, I can convince my readers that I know what I’m talking about because I understand fear, from my nightmares, or watching movies that inspire fear. I can tap into those horrific terrified feelings if I were to write something terrifying. Learn to zero in and write from the core of that. Don’t try to fake it; your reader will know you are cheating or just trying to “get by.” Writing what you know means convincing your audience because you tap into something you do know: think of it in the abstract as well as the concrete.

That's all for now - be back later.

Sometimes I just can't think of a compelling blog title for randomness :-D

First - I  missed visiting many of your blogs on Sunday because I went to a friend's play at Hart Theater. "The Last Flapper," with friends Christy Bishop as Zelda Fitzgerald (one woman show!) and Frances Davis as the director. It was brilliant! But, that meant my Sunday wasn't spent on my couch blogwalking.

I am leaving soon for Alabammy for the On The Brink Conference, so wish me luck. I'll not only be on a panel, but will be on Alabama Public TV on the Bookmark series with Dr. Noble (lawd - hope I do okay!). I don't know when it airs or whatever, but maybe there will be a tape of it put online that I can place here after I return from Jacksonville State University and there'bouts.

Since this is "Random video/photo/links day, but I am scrambling around to finish things before my trip, I thought I'd leave you with some comics that speak to the writer's life (or any life!)  . . . I hope to post something from Alabammy on Friday. Now, you'uns go do the day right!

The dreaded: "What's your novel about?"

Below is a short excerpt from my archives, and if you want to read the rest just click on the link. Although, now when I'm asked that question about The Graces Sagas I usually say, "It's an Appalachian family saga" and if the person expresses more interest, then I tell a little more. With Sweetie, I haven't settled into my one sentence blurb yet because I don't always follow my own advice from this archived post, I could do a lot better . . . teeheehee :-D. Seeing this post from about two years ago and how I would be able to tell people what my books are "about" in a one to three sentence blurb is STILL difficult for me. Dang.

What about you? I dare you to tell me what your book is about in one to three sentences - ha! (I bet some of you can and will and do!)

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From the Archives:

"What is your novel about?"


Oh. Oh! Oh, how I hated it when someone would ask me that. For this is what would happen:

Me: Deer in the headlights look, shuffling feet. Then, "Um, well, it's about this woman and she goes back home - yeah, it's about home and family and stuff, and she spreads her momma's ashes, and stuff happens and stuff, and it's like stuff abounds and all manner of stuffity stuff stuff and then, well, it's got this mountain, see, and did I say it was about this woman and family and home and belonging and stuff happens and stuff?"

Them: now they have a deer in the headlights look, followed by a slow blink. They quickly recover and ask: "So~! What's the title?"

Me: Oh crap. "Um, well, see, it's not titled yet...well, it is but the title is temporary, haha, I mean, haha, you know those publishers - I mean, when I get a publisher (for this was before I signed with BelleBooks) they'll change it anyway - and well, anyway, the title I have for it, just temp mind you - not really the title, haha, ah, er, the temporary title, and it kind of sucks, so remember it will change, is [really bad title here]." FOR REST OF POST, CLICK HERE

When Arrogance Bites You in the Arse, or bones . . .

I’ve been quite arrogant about my good health. In fact, I rarely go to the doctor because I rarely am sick. It would have to be something acute and severe—and even then I put it off, as I did when I had appendicitis and ended up in the emergency room at 2AM with an angry appendix about to explode. I didn’t have a pap smear for 3 years, nor my mammogram (shame), and when I went, she said I was overdue for a bone density. “No problemo,” I said haughtily, “But it’ll be a waste of time since my bones are STRONG.”

The bone density Tech said, “You waited five years between scans,” I answered, “Well, they said my bones were a lot younger than I am, so I didn’t see the need.” She smiled a bit. I said, “Yeah, that’s the problem with uber healthy people, they’re usually the ones blindsided by something.” That smile again.

My mammogram and pap came back “healthy,” but what I was excited to hear about was my bone density, because last time, those five years ago, I had an A+++ bone scan. Since I’ve been running for the last ten months, and have just started back with weight training over the last month, I wondered if my bones were even better! Yeah!

So imagine my surprise when the doc left a message on my phone that while everything looked good overall, there was an area around my hip and femur that had a little Osteopenia, but since it was so slight, I didn’t need to do anything except keep up what I was doing with my exercise and to make sure I was taking the recommended calcium and Vitamin D . . . blah blah blah she said some more but I was not listening because I was . . . I was, um, blindsided.

Huh? What? Me? But . . . but . . . dammit! I was pissed off. I wondered: what did I do or not do to cause some bone loss, even if it was very small, compared to five years ago. When did it happen? How? And if I hadn’t taken up running and weights again, would it be worse? And and and, pissy pissy pissy went my thoughts. Folks, I fully expected another A+++ and when I didn’t get it, I was mad.

But this taught me something—that I can believe I am invincible, that I am Super Woman, that I am strong and healthy and full of vitality and life and energy and that will always be the case never-ending, that I can run and do weights and yoga, and I can feel the health zipping through my body, but . . . without machines and the like looking into the deeper parts of me, I don’t really know what’s going on inside. I was blindsided, just as I’d quipped to the technician.

Granted, my osteopenia may never progress into anything more, but it still brought me up short. It made me feel vulnerable. The next day when I ran, I kept thinking there was a weak spot in me and I hated that weak spot—never mind I didn’t even know it was there until I was told.

What I’m taking from this is to stop my lackadaisical attitude towards testing and screening that my doctors suggest. They don’t suggest it lightly to me, since they rarely see me, and know how healthy I am. But they also know what can lurk when we least expect it.

Our bodies are wondrous things. I consider myself a person who takes care of herself, but sometimes our bodies betray us with the unknown, and sometimes there are factors we didn’t take into consideration that may affect our health—not eating enough, eating too much, stress, not enough exercise, too much exercise, not taking our vitamins or eating the foods that supply them, etc etc etc. Pick one that fits.

If you are able, then I urge you to have regular screenings that your trusted doctor recommends.

My goal now is to go back in that bone scan room in two years and have my doc say that nothing has progressed, and if at all possible, that I made it better.

Now—call your doctors (or quit ignoring their calls as I did). Suck it up. Bite the bullet. Don’t be blindsided. And if there is something lurking around, catch it before it progresses and do what you can to fix it.

Ice Walk at Killian Knob + Video Whale Back Rock & VK's Saga

Looks like barbed wire, doesn't it?

A brief glimpse of Whale Back Rock:

turtle head rock near whale back rock

dogs head rock before whale back rock

and Melissa & Sweetie's Whale Back Rock


The Saga of Virginia Kate (yes I've posted this, but I'm doing it again, for Michael :-D ) and because I am hard at work on VK III - the final in the Graces Trilogy - it's coming together completely different than I thought it would, and in the process, I'm having to delete thousands and thousands of words - because Virginia Kate stomped her ornery foot. Now I'm feeling the excitement, because I have Let Go of what I thought I was supposed to do or should do and now I'm just letting Virginia Kate take over and tell the story how she wants.

You'uns have a wonderful day and I'll see you Friday.

Are “public figures” public property? The Social Network gone wild?

On Sunday Morning yesterday, Aaron Sorkin—who wrote the screenplay to The Social Network movie—said that he had never met Mark Zuckerberg, and really didn’t know all that much about him, and in fact, he said, the movie wasn’t “a biopic about Mark Zuckerberg” but about something bigger (social networking, society, et cetera).

Why then did he use Mark Zuckerberg’s name? Why not a made up name? It was pointed out that the movie didn’t always accurately portray Zuckerberg’s real life, so why not make up a name, even scramble it up some: Smark Tuckersmerg. Sure, we'd all know the *wink wink* behind it, but at least it would be slightly fictionalized.

Silly me was under the impression that Aaron Sorkin worked with Zuckerberg, that they’d met, discussed, talked, something. We’ve all seen the “unauthorized biographies” about celebrities—some writer makes a buck or two or more off the back of a public figure and readers lap it up. Imagine . . .

Could someone decide they wanted to make a movie about this ole reclusive writer named Kathryn Magendie (suspending belief here that anyone would be interested *laugh*) and write whatever they wanted about me? Maybe interview a few people, watch a few video clips, follow me around in Target one day, read my blog/website/fb/twitter feeds, and then if that wasn’t interesting enough, they’d fill in the spaces with whatever made for a better more exciting movie, even if it was something hurtful to my friends or family or to me? Kind of scary, isn’t it? You could go to the movies and watch some actor play the part of You and not even recognize Yourself, not even be able to say, “That’s not true/I didn’t do-say-be that.”

And further - would the person the movie is "about" receive compensation for their life, or a version of it, portrayed on the screen? Do they receive a cut of the proceeds from the movie? Did Zuckerberg?

Are "public figures" completely Public and open to any kind of treatment we want to throw at them? Is it really fair to say, “Well, they brought this on themselves. Besides, they’re making so much money, who cares what they think. They wanted attention and now they have it, by golly dang!” Or, isn’t there some kind of line we must draw between a public figure’s private life versus their public persona? And, someone's use of it for their own gain?

And where does a person cross over into "Public Person" versus a "Private Citizen," and ironically, is the social network the end of any privacy for anyone at all? Are we all Public once we open a twitter/blog/facebook account and post about our lives and loves and friends and family?

Mark Zuckerberg can shake this off, and perhaps this kind of attention brings him even more “fame,” but watching that Sunday Morning segment, I felt uncomfortable at the arrogance of Sorkin, the shrugging his shoulders at how he used Zuckerberg’s “life” to make a buck or two or million. How Zuckerberg could go to the movies to watch himself and perhaps not even recognize himself. How his real-life beautiful long-term girlfriend must have felt when she was completely left out of the movie as if she didn't even exist, because it didn't serve the right dramatic purpose.

I suppose it's not a new thing to profit from a "public figure's" life, but I still feel that sense of uncomfortable unease, especially if there’s money at stake where words and actions and personality and Real versus Not Real can be skewered. As a fiction writer, I've heard the dangers of including "Real Life People" in our work, for we risk Cousin Pooter Head's wrath, Aunt Petal Pink's embarrassment, or worse, Neighbor Old Man McDonald could sue. I suppose if you are backed by big money, or the potential to make it for waiting wallets, anything is game, right?

What do you think?

On the Brink, Super Bowl Party-Pooper Ice/Snow, Party in Hendersonville

Tomorrow I'll be in Hendersonville, NC:
. . . Red Step Artworks this Saturday for our 3yr Anniversary Party and the Grand Opening of our sister . . . Joy of Books! Festivities, including, book signing (I'll be signing Sweetie, TG/SG), painting demos, live music, refreshments and adult beverages from 6-9pm Then after party at the Blue Note Grille' with more live music from Corinne Gooden! Please join us!

Then, later on this month, I'll be here on the panel, etc:
The Jacksonville State University Department of English is pleased to present "I Ain't Been Much Farther Than My Mailbox," the fifteenth On the Brink Conference, on Saturday, February 19 at Leone Cole Auditorium.On the Brink is designed as a provocative and entertaining gathering of Southern writers and readers. The conference offers a forum for emerging writers as they explore the Southern experience through our past, present and future. The conference will bring together writers in a range of genres. The writers attending the conference will read from their works and discuss their reasons for working in their chosen genre, as well as respond to questions from the audience.

PS - just saw this in my google alerts: interviewed by Brett for Anniston Star for the event. :-D


Everything feels frozen over, even if I know that's not true. In fact, it's warmer here than it is where my mom, dad, brother, neices, etc, live in Arlington, Texas - where the Super Bowl is to be played. I can imagine the panic as they worry about fans reaching the new stadium - the millions of dollars that could be lost (I wrote cold instead of could at first! ha! Freudian slip!) because people can't get to the game.

I worry about winter weather, too, when it comes to events. There's always the chance of ice and snow. Maybe I'll have problems driving there, or other people will and the event isn't successful. And even if it's not my fault that the event isn't successful, I'll still feel bad. Lawd! But, imagining a millions of dollars event like the Super Bowl this Sunday and how ice and snow may thumb its nose at the puny humans - well, it makes me glad it's not MY event *lawdy be!* I'll be watching the Super Bowl from the comfort and warmth of my living room.

What about you? What will you be doing for Super Bowl? Were you going and had to cancel your plans? Or do you watch "The Puppy Bowl" (so cute!), or leave the house?

If you watch the Super Bowl, what do you eat?


Or do you care? what?

Be Safe; have a wonderful weekend, and if you are in the Hendersonville, NC area tomorrow night, I'd love to say hello!


PS S- and thank you for your kind comments on the music video below! I've told my brother about them. Also, some of you on Monday's post were interested in SWEETIE review copies, but did not leave your email address or email me and without that, I do not know how to contact you.

My brother's music he composed for my Graces Saga books, called "The Saga of Virginia Kate"

Well, I managed to fix up a video to go along with my brother Michael's music he composed for me. I'll end up using the music for other things, as well, that go with the Graces Saga books. I'm proud of my brother! Although, the face of the video for some reason has the Sweetie novel, but that should change later as I went in and changed the thumbnail icon (just takes a while to show up).

I'll probably end up fiddling with this video some more, but I wanted to have something out there for all the work my brother did and how quickly he did it for me. YAY MICHAEL! Thank you Big Brother!

So, The Saga of Virginia Kate, music by Michael Snellings. Enjoy.

Let's all support our musicians, artists, writers, and poets - they need our support and love!