Roxanne Bland

I am a genre-bending novelist of fantasy, science fiction and romance. My motto: Reality is highly overrated.

The End

It’s coming.

Last June, my 85-year-old mother fell and broke her hip. She’s mending nicely, champing at the bit to get out of the house on her terms, driving, traveling, and all the rest. While she convalesces, my 85-year-old father has borne the lion’s share of the burden of her care. I’ve helped out whenever asked–taking days off from work, whatever is needed. In doing so, I’ve been able to observe them close-up. And I don’t like what I see.

My father and mother are the same age. I watch my father move about the house. He moves slower, now. His steps are no longer as sure as they were five, seven years ago. He doesn’t look sickly–for their age, both my parents are in pretty good health–but he seems smaller, frailer. Taking care of my mother has been hard on him. He’s tired, I can tell. His mind is still sharp, though. We talk about current events and such and his insights always enlighten me. The way he correlates the past to the present. Like I was wondering why the Democrats just didn’t go ahead and start impeachment proceedings against 45. He said it was because they don’t have anything on him, nothing that would stick. He pointed out that when Sen. Goldwater confronted President Nixon, the senator told the president he had a choice: Resign or be impeached. He also told Nixon if he chose to fight, there was enough evidence to convict, “and the Senate will convict… Continue reading

Buy My Book!

The Underground.

A romance made in heaven. Or hell.

Coming Oct. 1! Pre-order now at Amazon–only 99 cents through September 30! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07X6RRL5B

3. Roxanne Bland – The Underground

(Click on the above. What you’ll see is pretty cool.)

That is all.

Ciao.

More Oddz And Endz

I’m friends with a trans woman on a social media site. She related how she started cross-dressing in the early 90s because she was tired of presenting as what she was not. I told her I thought she’d been brave for doing that. She replied, “not brave–resilient.”

“Brave,” I shot back. Tired or not, given society’s murderous, despicable attitude toward trans people, to start dressing as she felt herself to be was brave. What was resilient is that she continued to be true to herself in spite of all of the ugliness.

That short exchange reminded me of an experience I had in college back in the ’70s. I was at a party on another campus with a bunch of friends and at some point, a trans woman joined our group. I didn’t know anything about trans back then but I quickly realized she was biologically male. I could tell she desperately wanted to hang out with us “girls,” wanted us to accept her. My friends were pretty oblivious (drunk) and basically ignored her. I didn’t. I thought she was cool. So she hung out with us at the party and I could tell she was feeling relaxed and having a good time. Then it was time for us to leave. I said good-bye and told her I’d had fun hanging with her. Unfortunately, by that time I was pretty oblivious myself and it never occurred to me to get her name and contact info. I wish I had. Even… Continue reading

The NOTORIOUS RBG!!

OK, I went a bit nuts today. Bought 4 RBG t-shirts.

It’s important for us to express how we feel, right? So I’m doing it. Love that woman/lawyer/advocate/Supreme Court Justice/FIGHTER! A hero to me and so many others.

And she’s made cancer her bitch AGAIN.

She is the NOTORIOUS RBG!!! Yes!! Smite those conservative assholes on the Court (especially that fucker Kavanaugh)! RBG RULES!!!!!

Ciao.

Gimme A Lift

Was looking through my past posts for no particular reason and came to the realization that jesus fuck! I’m such a Debbie Downer!

Some of it I can’t help. My brain sometimes throws me out of the car and roars off, leaving me in some pretty dark places. Sometimes? It’s been doing that a whole helluva lot for a helluva long time. Maybe I should start a private blog? Pour out my anguish in secret? Or should I keep doing what I’m doing, baring my dysfunctional mind and soul for all the world to see?

Well, I don’t have time to think about that right now. I’m going to be up all night as it is doing day job stuff. So I leave you with something that’ll maybe cheer me up: The new cover for Invasion.

Ciao.

The Days Are Numbered

It was a gloriously gorgeous day. Blue sky, fluffy white clouds. The sun, bright and warm, tempered by a cool breeze ruffling the hair. A day that heralded the coming of Autumn.

Dammit.

I am sooo not ready for this. I am not ready to face another winter. I’m not ready for the cold. The threats of snow. I’m not ready for the short days, the darkness outside and the darkness in my brain.

“Oh, but there’s plenty of time before winter comes! There will be more days like today, many more!”

That’s true. But it doesn’t seem like that to me. As a year passes, the days, weeks, and months rush by seamlessly, with the anonymity and speed of water in a fast-moving stream. Very few discrete periods stand out. When I can recall a particular day, its pictures slip and slide like a half-remembered dream. One little saying of mine is “I can’t remember what happened twenty minutes ago, so you know I can’t remember what happened [last week].” Rarely fails to get a laugh out of people. What they don’t know is that it’s true.

So for me, winter might as well come tomorrow.

My brain has been wack since 2016. I wasn’t exactly fine before then but it seems that was the year it spazzed. Every seven years, give or take a couple of months, whatever medications I’m on stop working. I don’t know why. They just do. Then the search begins for a new cocktail.… Continue reading

Happy Birthday, Lori B.!

Today would have been my sister’s 61st birthday.

Lori died in 2010. Brain cancer. I gotta tell you, cancer is some nasty shit. It was horrible, worse than horrible, to watch her die. The tumor was huge–covering almost a quarter of her brain. I saw the pictures after her surgery. It looked like the surgeon had taken an ice-cream scoop and went to work. He couldn’t get all of the tumor because some of it was too close to her brain stem for comfort. So she had to go through chemo and radiation. That’s some nasty shit, too. Still, the cancer went into remission and in the end, it bought her 2 more years. But it came back. It was a type of cancer that always comes back, no matter what you do. And when it came back, it was inoperable. So I watched Lori die, little by little, piece by piece. I cursed the cancer that was killing her. I cursed Duke University for not doing enough to cure her. I cursed a whole lot of other stuff, too. The hardest part, though, was saying goodbye. We were in her room at the hospice. I saw the DNR tag attached to the end of her bed and lost it. Lori and I had our troubles growing up and we weren’t close but there was never any doubt about our sisterly love. So we’re at the hospice and by this time she’d lost her ability to speak. We stared at… Continue reading

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

My Great Dane Daisy Mae is THIRTEEN today!

Happy Birthday, Daisy–you’re the BEST!!

It’s A Long Night

Anxiety attack. Crap.

Too late to pop a couple of Xanax. I’ll never wake up and I gotta be somewhere later this morning.

CRAP.

Ciao.

Is He Really Dead?

So Epstein was found dead in his cell. How fucking convenient.

It reminds me of Ken Lay, the CEO of Enron back in the day. Lay and his buddies pulled all kinds of bullshit that resulted in Enron’s spectacular crash. Employees lost their like savings because they were strongly encouraged to buy Enron stock. I remember one man who was about a year or two from retirement saying that since he’d lost everything, he’d have to work until he died. He wasn’t kidding, either. Anyway, the day Lay was to be sentenced, he dropped dead from a heart attack. Or so it was said.

Same here. Actually, it’s an even bigger deal than Enron. Epstein was most likely going to go down and if he did, a whole lot of powerful men were going to go down with him. Epstein wouldn’t have kept quiet about who took advantage of his little ring. To get maybe a reduced sentence (not much question he’d go to prison this time), he was probably going to sing like a canary. And then he dies. Or so it is said.

Seems like quite the coincidence, huh? Lay and Epstein were in deep, deep, shit and suddenly they die, just like that. I have a theory. Both men were richer than Croesus. They probably socked away huge bucks and other valuables in secret offshore accounts under assumed names (happens all the time). With all their riches backing them, it would be easy for them to fake… Continue reading