winter

Winter’s Coming. Gaah.

Gawd, I hate winter. It’s dark, cold, and it makes me wish I was dead. We won’t even talk about snow. I have gait problems as it is, and when snow turns to ice, that’s it for me. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.

And it’s November. Fuck.

So The Underground received a very nice 5-star editorial review from Literary Titan (link at the bottom). On Amazon, it has 11 reviews and is holding at 4 stars. That’s pretty much the same as the prior version of the book. Not that I expected it to change much. But it’s funny–since its first incarnation, readers have either loved The Underground or hated it. I can see why some would hate it. The story deals with some pretty dark subjects, as I wrote in my little essay. Some readers can’t deal with the sex. Yes, the story drips with it and some find that to be a problem but others find the sex to be too rough (one reader called it “nasty sex.” Isn’t that cute?). For still others, the two scenes that depict rape and the one where the person being raped had been abused as a child was too much. The four points of view present problems for some readers. From the comments, it confuses them. Maybe they’re not used to reading more than one point of view? Or, maybe it’s while the story proceeds in a linear fashion it develops from different points of view which they might not be able… Continue reading

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