KATHRYN MAGENDIE

New/old Beginnings: I've moved(back); come follow!

2012-01-01T10:07:00.000-05:00

CLICK HERE TO REDIRECT TO WORDPRESS BLOG

I'm back to my original, first blog, y'all. I've imported my posts and your comments, and am working on making the new space friendly and comfy. Unless blogspot blogger admin becomes cranky, I will keep this blog up, because . . . just because, one never knows, do they? :-D haw!

I do sincerely hope you will come on over and join in.

KATHRYN'S BLOG REDIRECT: CLICK ON THIS LINK

Moving my Blog back to my old Stomping Grounds & BelleBooks Linky love

2011-12-30T08:40:00.003-05:00

Welp, yesterday my blog went bye-bye. A notice popped up that my blog was suspended and there was no explanation other than the link I clicked on that read how I could be seen as spam or did something that was against their rules.

Of course, it was a "glitch;" I wasn't spam and didn't do something against their rules, and they had my blog up again by today.

However, I've decided to return to my former blog where I don't have to worry about that happening. It felt really weird to be suddenly suspended as if I did something wrong even though I knew I hadn't, but I felt rather oogly about it, as if I had dirt on my hands or something.

My old stomping grounds used to be under the window spaces blogger and sometime about a year or so ago it was formed into wordpress- I kept that blog but rarely posted to it. Yesterday I fiddled around with it and am trying to spiff it up for my move there.

I will leave my blog here with a redirect link - I don't want to delete a couple of years of my life I've had here! Lawd no! I may import my posts over there, if it works out all right, and in that case, I don't know if posts stay in both places.

I hope y'all will follow me on over there! I plan to make it easy as I can to follow the blog and leave comments - soon as I figure out all the whatevers and such and sos - feel free to email me if you have any problems.

Okay, y'all come on over! It's still under construction right now and I've changed the look of it several times (I may upgrade to Pro so I have more to work with), but I hope to have it 'finished' over the weekend - lawd.

Kathryn's Wordpress Blog

And since today is linky love day, I will do as I planned and link to BelleBooks/ Bell Bridge Books and their authors. This will be my last Linky Love here on this blog.

BelleBooks/Bell Bridge books has been wonderful to me and I adore them. Their authors adore them. And, there is something for everyone to read. I want to give them a big Shout Out today.

BelleBooks/BBB page for writers

BB/BBB Authors

About BB

They made my dreams come true. Three published books and a novella later, and another book on its way in the spring (Family Graces probably will be the title of the last in the Graces Trilogy), foreign rights (Russia so far!), ebooks, print books, audio books soon to come - I just can't say enough things about them. They are a dream to work with and respect and love their authors. Go BB/BBB! Check them out, and as their site says - there really is something for everyone.

Now - y'all come on over and help me to feel at home in my new/old blog home.

Stop. Sit in your chair. Open a word doc (or pull out pen and paper) and Begin

2011-12-28T09:01:00.001-05:00

We not only have holiday company for a few days at the little log house at Killian Knob, but I am up against a deadline, or two! The post below is a repeat post from 2009 but bears repeating. And it applies to more than just writing!

As for me, I am right now doing some last minute edits on the final Graces novel in the Graces Trilogy. The contract is signed. A date of March/April is planned for its release, and as well, Bellebooks/Bell Bridge Books is re-doing Secret Graces's cover so that all three Graces Sagas bookcovers are similar, so they look like a trilogy (I had a lot of mixed letters/comments on the original cover for SG-some hated/some loved). I can't wait to see what SG and the third Graces novel covers will look like - I still become excited; I still am giddy about it all.

And as well, Rose & Thorn will go live January 15 - we are busy preparing the winter issue. My New Years Holiday will be busy, but in a good kind of way.

So now -

What someone wrote in a comment one day: “You know all that is what kind of halts mein writing. It just overwhelms me and then I block. I like blogging because Ihave the feel of freely writing. I guess it is a bit of a quirk.”

Never never never never never never never never never nevernever never never never never NEVER NEVER NEVER let anything stop you fromwriting if this is what you want to doand you are ready to discipline yourself to it—no one else on this earth orbeyond should stand in your way: no advice from well-meaning writers, no rules,no nuttin’.

Trust me when I say that if you really want to write anovel, or stories, then you must practice your craft and the only way topractice is to just sit down and write. As you practice, you will figure outwhat works for you, what your “voice” is, what your “tics” are, what yourweaknesses and strengths are, what delights you and urges you on and whatfrustrates you and makes you want to stop writing. You will find out your ownpersonal style of writing in both how you write and what you write.

But listen! If you are happy writing blog posts, what iswrong with that? If you write a successful blog and people come to your siteand leave happy interested comments, areyou not a success? Are you not writing for an audience who loves coming byand seeing what you have written?

When I began writing Tender Graces, I didn’t have a clue whatI was doing; I didn’t even know how to write dialogue! But I had desire. I haddiscipline. I had want. I just wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and thingsbegan to come clear as to my own style and voice and what made me feelcomfortable. I wrote 200,000 words and most of those had to be trashed orre-cast or fiddle-dee-deed, but, boy did I have fun, and boy did I learn muchabout what kind of writer I’d be. I was writing for an audience of one: Me.That is free-ing, let me tell you!

Don’t let the “rules” or advice of others stop you or scareyou or make you feel as if you are somehow lacking if you don’t write in acertain way—just write and in the writing find out who you are, what kind ofwriter you are, what you love to write, and how you will write. I can’t stressthis enough. Find what makes you happy and do it.

If the writing feels strained and you want to back away fromit, then find out what is hindering you: Are you writing for someone else? Areyou listening to too many writers (like me!) give advice and it confuses you?Are you straining towards something that isn’t meant for you?

Stop. Sit in your chair. Open a word doc (or pull out penand paper) and Begin. Just have some fun, see what comes out. Who cares if youhave so-just-very-little; who caresif there are many adverbs and presentparticiples and dangling participles andsimiles and blah blah blah blah—how will you know what you want, or whereyou want to go, or how far you will take things, until you sit down and begin?How will you know what makes you happy until you write it without restraint?

I had to get to acertain point in my writing before the advice I read made sense –Hear that:I had to know how to sit down and writeand find out what kind of writer I’d be before all the “rules” began to makesense, and only then could I use them, manipulate them, have fun withthem—and I’m still having fun, and I’m still learning my craft—there is alwaysroom for growth, never become complacent even if you are a best-seller.

You all would laugh your arses off if you could see some ofmy first attempts at writing stories. So what? I laugh too! Haw! But I also seehow far I’ve come, how much I’ve learned and how much more I can learn. Lawd, even some of the works I've had published I want to go in and change the heck out of them!

Sit. Breathe. Tune out the voices. Have fun. And, write howand what you want, and where and for whom you want. Be sincere.

Dig it out from the you that is uniquely you.

See y'all Friday for Links Day! Hope you are having a wonderful holiday.

Photos/Video: Hopes for you & Happy New Year

2011-12-26T11:25:00.002-05:00

Hope your Christmas/Hannuka/Holiday Celebration is/was lovely and bright

Hope your travels were safe and beautiful and brought you to where you longed to be

Hope you spent time with friends and family - even if it was via Skype or Telephone, mail or email . . . or even social networking!

And finally . . . to all of you whom I in one fashion or another or all of the above love, respect, admire, and am exceedly grateful for, I wish you a . . .

Holiday Linky Love & Last Day for Sweetie deal

2011-12-23T09:40:00.003-05:00

South Louisiana - LSU Lakes - Birds as Ornaments flocking the trees

For the holidays, here is some linky love. I'll be back to "regular links" next Friday, but for today, I am posting those I happened upon this morning that had a holiday theme. I didn't come across any with any other holidays besides Christmas, and if I had, I'd link to them as well - so if you have a different holiday tradition than Christmas, link it in the comments and I'll update my post!

Despite my Grinchy post below, today I am feeling full of holiday cheer - and no, not because of vodka *sigh* oh, I still have not received my Crystal Head Vodka -- I want that skull *laughing* to help my cheer along - dang it all! :-D

Then, there is the annual posting of the link for my Moonshine & Santy Claus - a quirky Santy and menopausal appalachian woman story, published by Vagabondage Press. And how interesting to see my bio then when I was 'in the query process' - well, dreams do come true, y'all *gratitude*

I love this blog - full of Appalachian everything and always positive: Blind Pig and the Acorn - Appalachia through my eyes - Christmas folklore

Michelle Teacress has a short video that made me tear up - *still sniffling* - it struck my heart: The Coat: A story of charity - it will warm your heart.

saw this in South Louisiana near LSU - laughing! love it -you can't see the picture of the LSU coach Miles in that shiny square:-D

Speaking of charity - Every year I do Toys for Tots, and as well, I do the Angel Tree (look for those Christmas trees with "ornaments" hanging that have information on children you can purchase clothing and toys for), and another place I like to give memorial gifts on behalf of my brother, granny, and now my father, is Heifer International - I'm linking you to Nathan Bransford site, for he information there and an incentive. These are the things that take me outside of myself and remind me what this season is about: giving and charity and loving and remembering. It's especially for the children. You may have your own charities, but if not, these are wonderful places to think about giving. But, yes, people need us all year round, no matter the season - however, during the holidays, harder times are oft-times more keenly felt.

And the Pudgy Penguin has on his santy suit (so cute) and is having a book give-away. Even if you don't enter, just a look at that penguin makes a smile.

And, last time I'll be mentioning my book like a used car salesman (no offense to any car salesmen *laugh*), but it's the last day of the One-Week Deal at Amazon where SWEETIE is discounted for this promo. (Firefly Dance, the anthology, is on that same deal.)

Happy Holidays, whatever you celebrate. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

And now, I will leave you with an oldie but goodie - Christmas Lights Gone Wild

All those whos in whoville and their noise noise noise! Am I a Grinch?

2011-12-21T10:07:00.001-05:00

I fear I am turning into the Grinch. You know, scowlingabout Christmas commercialism and all the Whos in Whoville’s noise wearing on my nerves.What’s happened to me? When Christmas was always the most perfect, mostwonderful time of the year? Somewhere along the way I’ve let some kind ofmagic go, some kind of beauty of the season. I want it back. Lawdy be, can youhelp me? How? you may ask. Well . . . I’m open to suggestions. Perhaps: leave me Christmassycomments that enlighten and lighten? Email me cute Christmas cards? Post wonderfulholiday thoughts and send me the link? Then my heart will grow umpteen sizes too big and I'll be full of Christmas Cheer - whoop!

I want to look forward to decorating the tree with glee and fiddledeedee. I want toinhale the scents that come only this time of year - spices and sweet and fresh. I want to gasp at the wonders.I will have no child running in breathlessly to tear open gifts, for my son andgranddaughter are many miles away in Oregon.Maybe that’s part of it, too—my friends and family are far from me. Oh, I hatewhiners! Whos in Whoville and all that noise, noise, noise!

What do I want for Christmas this year? I want that spiritto come back with a big Bam-a-lammo. I can’t force it, so I’m asking you all,anyone of you at all, to help me find that Christmas-Holiday Doodledeedahday. I knowit’s somewhere. I must have just misplaced it in a corner, under a pile ofsweaters, in the sock drawer, in the hollowed out tree, behind the dresser,under the couch . . . somewhere, it’s here somewhere.

There is a Christmas special on Lifetime television where this jadedbook editor hates Christmas and is grumpy and yada yada the same old; but, as I watch it, I tear up a bit, as if I am seeing parts of myself in thiswoman. Thing is, at the end of the movie, I know she’ll have found what she ismissing—will I find it along with her? Gee, I hope so.

I think perhaps I will need to do something different,something to take me outside of myself. Yes. That's it. Outside of myself. And, I’ll keep searching thoselittle corners and places for that old feeling—I just know it’s there. It risesup and quickly flies away just out of my grasp. Maybe you’ve seen it? Floatingaround, my Holiday Spirit. If you do see it,grab hold of it and bring it back to me, and for that, I’ll be filled withgratitude.

Perhaps I’ll fly like the hawk over a jeweled city ofholiday shine and there I will find what I need . . . yes, right in Whoville. Yes. There it is . .. just ahead.

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Now, off with my bad elf-self, and I'll see you all on Friday with Linky Love.

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(and SWEETIE is doing well in the Amazon weekly deals - Friday is the last day to find it at this special before it goes back to its regular price - same with Firefly Dance. Thank you all for your support! Hmm, that's something to be grateful for this holiday season! - MY READERS! *heart is starting to grow* After this promo is over, I won't be mentioning it as I have been - you know how I like my "car salesman-free zone" here *laughing* :-D )

Where'd Monday go? Discombobulation abounds. No photos/videos: Bad Kat

2011-12-20T09:27:00.002-05:00

Morning y'all. I'm late with my Monday post - I have been out of town to South Louisiana to visit family and friends. It was a quick trip, but here it is Tuesday morning and I don't have my photos/images/videos! *Bad Kat* I even woke up in my iron bed in the little log house in the cove at Killian Knob thinking this was Monday. Lawd.

So pardon my lateness and zippity do dah diggity didn't do-it-ness as I unpack and unwind and decompress. I will see you on Wednesday with my regular blog post!

By the way, SWEETIE is inching up the "Amazon Kindle Best Seller List" - she's at this moment no 29 in literary fiction. I'd love to see her head up to No 1 of course *haw!* but even the top 50 is very nice. THANK YOU for your support. She'll, Sweetie that is, will be on this "Amazon Weekly Deals" for a mere .99cents until Friday and then it's over and she's the regular price. (Firefly Dance is on that same deal.) Appreciate all of you.

See you Wednesday!

Linky Love - Blogger Community

2011-12-16T10:00:00.000-05:00

Time for links, y'all! And today's links are from the blogger community.

And a big Thank You to blogspot Blogger for making it easy to open links to a new page - at last! yay!

Jessica Nelson BookingIt. Whenever I see her profile photo, it makes me smile. There is a sweetness about Jessica and it comes out in her blog and in her comments she leaves.

Diane Estrella "That's what I'm here for" has a fun Christmas quiz going on. She also reviews books and products, and her energy bounds off her blog page.

I have a new Blogger friend whose blog I am exploring - From Sarah, With Joy. And "joy" does describe what I've experienced stopping by her place.

Hilary Melton-Butcher has such an interesting blog "Positive Letters . . . Inspirational Stories," chock full of information on things you don't realize you longed to know until you get there, and Voila! She's told you all about something so interesting, you leave feeling smarter and more wordly.

I laughed when I watched Carolyn V's "Checkboard Squares" video on Zombie Love - and I HATE zombies . . . ungh - but danged if I couldn't get that song out of my mind.

Reader Unboxed - it's all about books and reading and it's the sister site of Writer Unboxed. I love both of these blogs, and am a member of Writer Unboxed, for which I've linked to before.

Folks, if you haven't stopped by John Bord's Ink Spots, then slip on over there. His writings are starkly beautiful, and he's just a nice guy to boot. Sometimes he writes of social issues and whether I agree or do not, I always leave his blog thinking.

Colby Marshall Spittin' out words like a llama is quirky and fun, and, ohhh!, I do believe she has a form of synesthesia, so that makes her my new "writing interest" - I want to study her, for I have a character who will probably be in my next book who has synesthesia.

Click on over to Eryl at The Kitchen Bitch Ponders . . . because she's just cool and I like her and I love that title, too.

And finally, last one for this Friday's Linky Love is Titus the Dog - I have two of her poetry collections and have ordered the latest. The words are gorgeous and profound, yes, but, the covers are exceptional as well.

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As an aside - I am writing this on Wednesday because I have to unplug all of Thursday and perhaps into Friday. However, from what I understand, beginning on Saturday the 17th is the Amazon Kindle Promo for Sweetie (and as well for the anthology The Firefly Dance). Sweetie, and Firefly, will be priced by Amazon for $.99 for one week only - through the 23rd. After that, it goes back to regular price. So, there you go, a Christmas Kindle Book Promo. Thank you for your support - without my readers, my writing is lonely and unloved :-D .

Just found out this, apparently Amazon has Sweetie and FD at .99cents instead of what I thought! lawd! wow. Far as I know, just for the week still. Firefly is priced the same.

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See y'all on Monday!

Finding the Rest of Your (life) Story - Don't Give Up

2011-12-14T08:43:00.000-05:00

As my brother and I left Blanchard Cavernson our Odyssey trip, one of the tour guides called out, “Watch out for deer.They come out this time of the evening.”

It wasn’t ten minutes later, as we carefully drove along anunfamiliar road in the soon-to-be-coming dusky dark, that I saw a deer by theside of the road and said, “There’s one; be careful.” We passed thedeer without incident, both laughing at how we were just warned and then there adeer was.

A few miles more, and I saw her. She darted out quickly andin the time it took me to open my mouth and yell, “Watch out!” she’d alreadyran right into Tommy’s truck. The sickening sound of WHAM! against metal, andour cries of “Oh no!”

Tommy said, “I can’t go back. I just can’t.” The strickenlook that formed his features into grief must have mirrored my own.

I said, “I know, Tommy. I understand.”

Yet, despite our words, he’d already slowed topull to the side of the road. We both knew we couldn’t leave a sufferinganimal. We’d just lost our father and the thought of dealing with death of anykind caused our faces to fall into folds of worry and sick and sad. And if she was suffering, what could we do? How to help her? The Odysseyhad barely begun and already we were ready to call it Done. It was all toomuch. Too much. Too much.

Tommy looked into his rearview and said, “Hey wait! She’sup! She’s running into the woods.”

“That means she’s probably okay. Oh I hope so. And Tommy,” Isaid, “even if she’s not, we can’t go searching for her in unfamiliar woods,especially with dark coming soon.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. And we went on our way down that lonelydarkening road. The night tainted, unfamiliar. Grieved. It felt as if Tommy andI were the only humans left in the world. Visions of the beautiful animal hurtin the woods pummeled my thoughts. I know Tommy was feeling that too.

We drove in a silent dark that became a deeper dark, nothing around except for a smattering of farm houses here andthere far back from the road. Then, at last! There! Lights in the distance. We soon came to a gas-stationand stopped to fill up. As Tommy went inside, I looked around, trying togauge my bearings, feeling disoriented and exhausted. There were a few menstanding around but they didn’t look approachable. Another woman filled hercar, but she had an angry expression. I felt uncomfortable there, as if I werean interloper upon their space and place and time.

A young woman pulled up to fill her tank. Her friendly face calmed me, so I made my decision and walked up to her, “Excuse me,” Isaid, “But where are we?”

She laughed, and told me.

“Is there a hotel nearby?”

She laughed again, then said, “Not one you’d want to stay in, that’s for sure.”

At my stricken look her face softened. “Hey, look. You cango to Hardy. It’s a little town but it has a couple of decent hotels. And!” Shesmiled and said with mock excitement, “it has a Wal-mart anda McDonalds!”

“Sold!” I grinned at her, then said, “Thank you so verymuch.”

“No problem. Drive safely. There’s some construction on theway.”

We followed the woman's directions and soon Tommy and I were checked-in toa hotel. We set out to the McDonalds for salads and to Wal-mart for a fewsupplies. Our moods were lighter, our faces lit in relief. I told Tommy I wished I'd have thought to ask her name, for she didn't know what her kindness meant to me, and to my brother.

The next morning was bright and beautiful. Tommy and I preparedagain for our Odyssey, our faces as bright and beautiful as the morning. “Offwe go!, I cried, “into the wild blue yonder!” We laughed, speeding off to thenext adventure.

I often think what if we’d have given up because of that eveningwe were so tired and sad and distraught? I think, what if we’d have consultedtechnology and sped our way to an interstate where everything is The Same,given up the discovery we had been so excited about—the old back roads usingonly our sense of direction and a paper map. I think what if we’d have said thetrip was too hard, and we were too tired and disoriented and defeated. We’d have missed theRest of the Story. We’d have never known the days ahead of that evening. We’dhave slapped the face of the evenings before The Deer & Lost in the Darkincident, when everything was about that discovery.

Everything doesn’t have to be easy. Everything doesn’talways go our way, or the right way. Everything we do has ups and downs, hasdisappointments and successes. It’s when we decide to keep going, to let thedark times teach us to reach out to someone, and to find The Rest of The Story, that welive the life we were meant to live—one well-lived.

Will you give up? Or will you drive through the scary dark to a friendly face, right into the bright and beautiful to find The Rest of Your Story?

Time for Video/Photos No/Few Words: Jingle Dogs Reunion & Secret Places & etc

2011-12-12T08:50:00.000-05:00

Morning Y'all! Time for video/photos no/few words!Now this is just silly but it still made me laugh:-D

My Secret Place - this made it into the SWEETIE novel *shhh* very secret

What I can see on way to Secret Place and where Sweetie and Melissa sometimes ran to hide

close up

ice crystals in the grass

mushrooms on a log

wasp nest in our Christmas tree - we have "nature things" and regular ornaments - our tree is on the porch

"Not Quite Fat Dog" Jake helped decorate by looking cute

the christmas decorations made shadows which kept the frost in same pattern -at Lake Junaluska

Friday Linky Love in this wonderful Community of Bloggers we are!

2011-12-09T09:03:00.001-05:00

bffs are wunnerful - in blogland too!

Yes, folks - I am back to three days a week posting, after months of wailing and gnashing my teeth over my deadline I thought I'd never make (of course I will and the final in the Graces Trilogy will be out in a few months!), and after my father's illness and passing - oh how wonderful you all are and were for supporting me, and for your understanding I am appreciative.

Which takes me to how much of a community Blogger Land is, and why I have missed my thrice-weekly posting, and my visiting your blogs. What a wonderful community of people there are out there in Blogger Land!

Friday is Linky Love day, so here are a few offerings. As always, I invite you to tell me about any gooey noughty goodness you find out there so I can share it - yes, even if it is your own site.

What brought me back to excitement over my blog? Why Kristen Lamb's blog and her book "Are you there blog, it's me, Writer." I've mentioned Kristen before, but she bears mentioning again if this whole Social Networking thang has you beating your head against the wall (as the bruises on said pea-head of mine will attest).

I was curious what would happen if I clicked on "Next Blog" - something I never think to do, and it brought me to The Simple Woman's Day Book blog - where "thoughts of those who are focusing on simplicity...beauty of the everyday moments." Looks interesting, so I think I'll check it out further.

Jan O'Hara is one of the blogs I miss visiting regularly - she makes me laugh and think and giggle and go "hmmmmm." Miz Tart at Tartitude is wunnerful.

I have also missed the Amazing Voyages of the Turtle, Sandra Leigh's blog about her travels here there and yonder. She is amazing.

Author Jody Hedlund always has interesting and informative posts for writers. I learn a lot about myself as it pertains to my writing life from these posts and sometimes find I am writing much too long comments! lawd!

Hungry? Like to "pass a good time" with music and food and a really nice person down in the Louisiana Swampland? Then visit Marguerite at Cajun Delights. I lived in South Louisiana many years and her blog reminds me of the food and fun and people there.

Deb Shucka's blog "Catbird Scout" is another for whom I have missed reading regularly - her intimate, poignant, and beatifully-written blog never ceases to amaze me with just how lovely a person, and a writer, Deb is. She's also an editor at our Rose & Thorn journal.

Anita from Life with a Cherry on Top is one of those quiet blogs that doesn't announce itself and make a lot of noise, just as Anita herself is! But I adore Anita and her blog. Visiting her makes me feel calmed and warm and toasty.

Another of our Rose & Thorn editors is Janna Qualman over at Something She Wrote. We both stumbled upon Rod McKeun's poetry books and that makes me smile. She is also one of those quiet writers who doesn't shout out, but she should!

Terri Tiffani's blog is titled "Inspirational Writer" and that is just what she is, which is why she has such a loyal following, and I've missed reading her blog.

And there are many more - and I will be linking to those in the coming Fridays.

Ah, feels good to be back, y'all!

You all have a wonderful weekend!

The Sheldon Cooper in Me

2011-12-07T13:06:00.001-05:00

sheldon cooper & me -okay, not me *laughing*

Sometimes when I'm watching The Big Bang Theory, I have thissemi-uncomfortable feeling that I am oft-times too much like Sheldon Cooper. That Iunderstand too much of what he says and does and it makes perfect sense to me,so that while I, and the studio audience, are laughing, I am also going,"Um . . . wait . . . we are laughing because this is a bit of theridiculous . . . and so I am a bit of the ridiculous.” Teehee.

I know I have tics and weirdness and "ways I must do things." Iknow when I go into a hotel room, I first put down my luggage on a woodensurface and not on the floor in the case there are critters there hiding justso they can crawl into my luggage and snuggle in for the trip home. And then I immediatelywalk to the bed, lift the covers, and check out the sheets and the mattress. IfI am in a Hampton Inn, which is where I try to stay because they sanitize their comforters and they are white--which shows everything!--I mostly feel I don’t haveto remove the bedspread, but if I have to stay where there is one of thosecolorful bedspread, off it comes! Colorful bedspreads are made that way to hidestains and other icky nasty. The sheets best be white without any stains—stainswill send me into apoplectic fits of EWWWWWWW. The mattress check is for signsof critters. And, to make things more weirdly embarrassing: during the middleof the night, at around 2 a.m., since that’s when an article said certaincritters come out, I have to shine a light under the covers to make sure nocritters have sneaked up on me and are feasting on my wittle legs. Well, sofar, so good, I’ve not had to go screeching into the hotel hallway as if myhair’s on fire.

My place is at the left end of the couch. When company comes, I hurry to siton that end, because it is My End; however, if someone beats me to it,unknowing that this is My End, then I will toss and turn upon the other end ofthe couch; I am displaced! I am uncomfortable –ungh! Ungh! I would never sayanything to the displacer but as soon as they go home, I pounce upon My End ofthe couch and nestle it back to its former Me-ness. I have a few moments of, “Itfeels weird because someone else has been here,” which I must quickly overcomeso I can enjoy My End again. Huhn.

I have rules about food. I’m not much of a meat eater, but when there isMeat Food prepared, it must be eaten within a certain amount of time. Usuallyabout two days, preferably one. Yes, this is so. GMR will eat meat ormeat-dishes a million days after it has been prepared, but not so I! I imagineit is spoiling almost immediately, growing nasty crawling critters, and souring,and I just will not eat it. Meatless food items may stay a little longer in my “Iwill eat this” category, but there are more Food Rules—I will not get into thisright now, but they all make sense to me. erk.

When I shake a stranger’s hand, my hand tingles afterward. Because I beginto think, “I wonder where that hand’s been?” And the thought grows and growsuntil my hand tingles and I am just so AWARE of my hand! Sometimes this happenseven if it is not a stranger and for this I can only ask for forgiveness. Noone will ever know, because it is only me who can feel the critters crawlingall over my hand. Ungh. Ungh. Sometimes this may be my “People Radar” going off—theradar that tells me something ain’t right about a person and I am taken abackby the force of those feelings, and sometimes it’s because I am just Weird.

Sometimes when I’m walking, I will step on a root or bump or somethingelevated in my path. Say I step on it with my right foot. Well, then the leftfoot begins to feel cheated. It wants to step on something elevated. I try toignore it, but eventually, I give in and make sure I step on something elevatedwith the left foot. Sometimes, just to be mean to my left foot, I will step onsomething elevated numerous times with my right foot and say, “HA! THERE! Tryto control ME will you! hahaha!”

Shall I go on? Well, I shall not because I’m of the belief that you mustleak out your crazy a teeny bit at a time. Let people become used to it. Lullthem into a sense of how they think you are quirky and slightly sweet andloveable, and then they accept all the crazy-arse stuff you throw at themwithout blinking an incredulous eye hardly one bit, hardly.

What about you? Have any quirks you want to share?

PS - As an aside - whenever I find out there is going to be a "Special Promotion" for my books, I always want to let y'all know they are coming. From around December 17th until 23rd, The Firefly Dance and Sweetie will be on a special Amazon Kindle promo. I believe they are pricing them for $1.99 for just that time. A head's up - in case you are interested. You all know I get all irkity talking about my books because I want this to be a "car salesman free zone" :-D haw! But, dang, this is a deal! Later y'all.

Images, few words - You Go Girl Accomplishments I should be "proud" of instead of whining about what I haven't done. Huhn!

2011-12-05T09:03:00.001-05:00

more about Tender Graces

More about Secret Graces

More about Sweetie

more about the Firefly Dance

Well, you all know I rarely put stuff up here on my blog, or anywhere else, about my books - but over the last weeks I've been all whiny - thinking about what I have NOT accomplished. Then, this morning, I slapped myself upside my head and thought, "Hon; dear; look at what you HAVE accomplished." And among those things are these. I'm taking today to give myself a "you go girl."

Along with those novels, a novella, and a novel to be released in March, I've written and had published poetry and essays and stories and photographs - have I stopped to think, "Hey . . . cool!" or have I thought, "Yeah but . . ." or "Don't talk about your stuff because it sounds like bragging and that's UGH and unseemly" . . .

Those Yeah Buts and other admonishments are sneaky lil stinkers, aren't they? Huhn.

What about you? What's your "you go girl/guy" moment(s)?

see you Wednesday!
------ -- sometime later in the Magendie Little Log House in the cove at Killian Knob------

PS! - y'all - I'm laughing because ever since I posted this I've wanted to take it down. I really do not do well with talkin' bout my stuff . . . ungh ungh! . . . haw! Dang . . . *kat looks at the delete key - considerrrrrs -- connnnnssssiiiderrrrrs -- * :-D

Pushing Through the Pain for What we Desire

2011-11-30T10:09:00.001-05:00

“It’s almost eight miles, Kat,” he says. The morning ischilly, but the sky is a deep blue, too blue to be atmosphere and must beinstead something tangible, touchable, bending in at the pressure of my handsas I press. Around the corner, I hear the creek rushing. I shoulder my pack andsay, “Let’s do it.” The trail lollipops through the woods—meaning, we start outand end on the “handle” of the lollipop, and make our way around the outside ofthe “sucker” part.

We follow the creek a while, then begin the incline. I munchnuts and fruit, and drink the water I’ve brought. It’s silent save for ourbreaths. At the end of the steepest climb, my right leg begins to complain; Iignore it, move on. We round the top of the lollipop and make our way down. Thedecline is easier, but the terrain is rougher—the trail narrows, we step overslippery rock, climb over a giant fallen limb from a tree that looks a thousandyears old. The pain in my right leg is expanding across my lower back and to myleft leg; I ignore it. We come to an ancient tree that reaches forever into thesky, its trunk as wide as Texas,and there’s a hollowed out space that I slip into. I stand inside its walls,and make up a story about a woman who hides in a tree so no one can find her,until she wants them to. I reluctantly step out of my sanctuary.

We come to a sign that reads: .8 miles to the trailhead. It’sbeen hours and we’re hungry for the wine and cheese we packed. But the pain screamsloud now. I hold my head high, pretending, so no one would know I’m hurtingthis bad. But, by time we are to the trailhead, I can no longer hide it; I’mlimping, and my lips are pulled in a grimace. It’s another “lil’ piece” beforewe make it to the bridge that leads back to our car, and by then my limp is muchmore pronounced, my lips pressed, my teeth gritted. But I don’t care; I’mexhilarated. I hiked the entire lollipop, and it was sweet! Once in the car, my grimace turned to a grin, Isay, “When can we do it again?”

Sometimes we just have to push through the pain to be wherewe want to go. Sometimes the painful struggle is worth it if we appreciate what else isgoing on around us--if we see what we long to see and do what we long to do and be who we long to be. Sometimes there is just pain and that’sjust how it is but there’s much more to the experience so that the pain doesn't completely define us, but as well, the journey to where we want to be.

Thanks for the day,Mother Earth, Father Sky.

What pain will you push through for what you love or desire or where you want to be? Will you say, "It was worth it and I'll do it again?" or give up before you complete what you desire?

Photos/Videos - Pisgah & strumming the ipad

2011-11-28T09:48:00.001-05:00

I wanna iPad . . . :-D

Cold Mountain from Pisgah Tower

tower perspective, Mt Pisgah

enlarge pic to see where Boopmobile is parked :)

on the Pisgah trail

on Parkway to Pisgah

looking glass rock in shadow

a cool accident with the camera

from Pisgah trail

pisgah trail

State Parks and Thanksgiving & The Great Cornbread vs Bread debate!

2011-11-23T07:37:00.001-05:00

Dupont State Park

No mistake in this house I love a good cornbread dressing. GMR loves my cornbread dressing, too, as does most anyone else who eats it. GMR is from New Orleans, and I am a West Virginia HillWilliam who lived a lot of her time in the deep south and who had a Tennessee Daddy and an adoptive mom from an Arkansas farm. My mom always made cornbread dressing. I ate it as a child growing up; I watched her make it and learned from her as I grew up; I took up that tradition.

GMR, however, prepares Erster Stuffing . . . or for you who aren't New Orleans born or haven't lived in or been to South Louisiana, that's Oyster Stuffing (he does call it dressing, but I refuse to *teeheehee*). This stuffing is made with Bread - no cornbread. Not a touch. And it has critters in it - oysters. What the fiddledeedee?

dupont state park

So each Thanksgiving, I have an informal but rabid poll about this. What do you eat/prepare in your house at Thanksgiving (or during the holidays)? Is it WONDERFUL MAGICAL SUMPTUOUSLY DELICIOUS Cornbread Dressing. Or is it nasty soggy bread stuffing with maybe some snotty-looking critters in it? (*haw*)

Dupont State Park

I want to wish you all who observe to have a Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy your families. Hug each other. Tell each other you love one another. Make the moments count. If there is any time at all to be mushy and to build broken bridges and to talk about gratitude and family and friends, well, now is surely that time.

cataloochie valley as seen through the barn

from waterrock knob on parkway

from water-rock knob parkway

Today, I bake my cornbread and we'll have a slice when it's warm from the oven - there's always plenty left over for my dressing. I'll bake my pecan (puh-cahn!) pie and my pumpkin pie, as well. GMR is brining the turkey (this really does work quite well), and he will make his erster stuffing (what-EVER --laughing--), and whatever else he will do ahead of time. I am lucky to have a GMR who loves to cook, but also who cleans up along-side of me so I don't have to do it all alone.

Blanchard Caverns

blanchard caverns

99% of photos here on my blog are taken by me. The two cavern photos were not taken by me, but by my brother Tommy, from our Odyssey round-about from Texas to North Carolina, and they do not do these caverns justice much as he tried--they are just too majestic and awe-inspiring to fully capture in the dim light--Blanchard Springs Caverns in Mountain View Arkansas. In the caverns, it was as if some ancient civilization, or aliens, created the "sculptures." I'll have more photos later, I hope. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me (I rushed to Texas so quickly, I didn't grab it), but my brother did, so as soon as he can upload all the hunnerds of them from our Odyssey :-D I will share some more with you. (Our first State Park stop was below at Petit Jean State Park).

The photos of waterfalls above are from our own WNC Dupont State Park. And two below I took from the train ride my brother and I took on the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad.

from train (great smoky mountain railroad)

With GMR's friends, I also visited Cataloochie Valley (photos above and below) and Water-rock Knob at Blue Ridge Parkway (above). These are places, here in WNC, that GMR and I go frequently and never tire of it and are always awe-struck.

cataloochie valley from trail

We also visited Max Patch and walked a bit of the Appalachian (AppaLatchun not AppaLayshun) Trail.

I am awe-struck at the beauty of our parks and parkways.

And, how grateful I am for our National and State Parks. They are truly a national treasure that we oft-times can take for granted. Think of them when you go on vacations - many can be "right in your back-yard." They do so need our love and support.

turkeys at Cataloochie Valley- they won't be eaten, at least by humans, lawd!

Happy Thanksgiving! I am grateful for all of you. *Blowing You All A Kiss*

Gratitude - photos, few words

2011-11-21T08:34:00.001-05:00

There was a time when my big brother and I had not much of anything. For we were right on the edge of not even having a family, for my brother and I were to be scattered upon the winds to who knows where, separated.

Even when we found sanctuary, we were pretty poor. But we had a bed and we had a roof over our heads even if it was raggedy (but always clean), and we had a dad who wanted us and a brand-new 'stepmom' who wanted to adopt us --and she later did (along with our other brother who'd later come). So I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

Family, friends, place, home, shelter, love, work, You All.

(and more family and friends, who I'd love to post pictures but don't want to without knowing if they'd want me to do that here on a public blog - She-Laughs and all . . . *smiling*)

Another unflattering photo of me (haw) and linky love

2011-11-16T11:56:00.001-05:00

Silly ole Kat at Petit Jean State Park

visit Petit Jean State Park's website

I wanted to write up about my brother's and my odyssey from Texas to North Carolina, taking the back roads, visiting State Parks, etc., but I'm still trying to catch up. I hope to have something written up next Wednesday, as I really want to talk about things we saw, and to talk up the State Parks, who need our support!

You know, I don't know how many unflattering photos of myself I have put out here on my blog, but one day I'm going to try to gather them up and post them all *laughing* - I mean, have I no vanity? I guess not . . . haw. You can even see them in my gallery above . . . teeheehee.

Today I'll leave you with some links, including the one for Petit Jean above.

Can't remember if I've ever mentioned LitStack, for the love of all things wordy.

And Friday Reads: Read Share Repeat.

Reader Unboxed: By Readers For Readers, and a sister of Writer Unboxed.

If you haven't already, and I think I have mentioned her before but she has a whole new thing on novel structure and etc for all you writers out there, then head to Kristen Lamb's blog. She talks a lot about social networking, too, and how to make it work for you better/smarter- and you don't have to be a writer to benefit from that - I have ordered her book about blogging so maybe I can derive some tips on how to spruce up this place, for it's feeling a little stale, ain't it folks? :-D.

OOPS50 - A sharing blog for women over 50 - just discovered this blog by visiting the Farmer's Market in Asheville.

Karen Elliott is having a "paint the writer's wagon" contest - signed copies of Tender Graces and Secret Graces are one of the prizes, but as well she has a gift card and the Hunger Grames books(not signed, but still), and those two prizes ain't nuttin to sneeze at so I danged ole promise it won't hurt my feelings if you choose one of those *grin*.

There has been a lot of talk and all about book lending on Amazon through Amazon Prime. I don't know what to think about it and as an author I sometimes have to just let all that flow around me and see "what will be," and as well, I trust my publishers, BelleBooks, to do what they must do to protect their authors and their business, and to sell books and etc etc. I do know BB has a temporary deal they had to fight tooth and claw to make sure we were protected and as far as I know, Tender Graces and Sweetie are on that Amazon Prime program for what may be a limited time - and I say "may be" because seems some books, as I've read about on blogs, have been put there without permission - I don't know. I live in the Land of Confusion where many others live as we walk around with stunned expressions and go "ungh; ungh?" a lot.

Would I really like for my books to be in many many bookstores and libraries across the land? You bet I would! Are they in many many bookstores and libraries across the land? No. You can ask for them and they will order them, but they aren't readily there in some places, and sometimes people expect things to be There, Right Then. This is why Amazon becomes so powerful to/for/with small press publishers and their authors - because our books are physically there and digitally there and can go anywhere to anyone at a quick click. I have more to say on this, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Rose & Thorn's fall issue went live while I was in Texas. I hope you all will go by and take a look, read, let us and the authors know what you think. Our Guest Author is Daniel Wallace of Big Fish fame, and we have plenty more good stuff from writers and poets, and from our guest artist. We appreciate your support.

Almost forgot! GMR has art up at the Studio 86 in Waynesville. Including his "Red Dog" paintings (except he has Red Dog in French and I forgot what it is :-D). If you are in the area - stop by and see all the artists' works. October 19-November 12, 2011FREE. Artist Reception: November 4, 2011 from 6-9pm. Or if you like the Red Dog, he paints them with your fave team on the tag.

As always, visiting those vistors who leave a comment and a link is lovely. I know we are all busy, but I hope our blog community remains and grows. It can be such a wonderful source of information and contact with people all over the world. Yes, so can Facebook/Twitter, but our blogs take Our Selves just a little bit further.

That's enough for now. I once again want to thank you all for your support and love. To know of all these kind acts truly helped me through this, and my family as I shared with them your thoughts.

Thank you card, Photos, no words . . .

2011-11-14T08:38:00.001-05:00

(. . . for all your thoughts, comments, mail, everything over the last weeks of my father's illness and then passing)

From Water-rock Knob, Blue Ridge Parkway:

Full Moon & Flying Squirrels from our Porch

Cataloochie State Park Misc:

Chubby Buns Squirrel at our feeder:

Helping another author to FLY: Jessica Bell

2011-11-11T09:18:00.001-05:00

Morning Friends! Y'all know I rarely rarely tout my books (though should I be? That's a question I often ask myself!) but when I can, I do love helping out another author to tout his/hers!

I've never tried this kind of promo as she is doing, and again, I often wonder if I should be - laughing - oh well, I suck at promo, don't I? *grinning*

I loved the song on Jessica's trailer, and if the rest of the cd is as good, and I expect it to be (and I'll be finding out for myself by obtaining my own copy), then Jessica is on her way. GO JESSICA!
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Today is THE day to help Jessica Bell's debut, STRING BRIDGE, hit the bestseller list on Amazon, and receive the all-original soundtrack, Melody Hill: On the Other Side, written and performed by the author herself, for free!

All you have to do is purchase the book today (paperback, or eBook), November 11th, and then email the receipt to:

jessica.carmen.bell(at)gmail(dot)com

She will then email you a link to download the album at no extra cost!

To purchase the paperback:

Amazon USA

To purchase the eBook:

Amazon USA

Amazon UK

To listen to samples of the soundtrack, visit iTunes.

If you are not familiar with String Bridge, check out the book trailer:

Rave Reviews for String Bridge:

“Jessica Bell’s STRING BRIDGE strummed the fret of my veins, thrummed my blood into a mad rush, played me taut until the final page, yet with echoes still reverberating. A rhythmic debut with metrical tones of heavied dark, fleeting prisms of light, and finally, a burst of joy—just as with any good song, my hopeful heartbeat kept tempo with Bell’s narrative.” ~ Kathryn Magendie, author of Sweetie and Publishing Editor of Rose & Thorn Journal

“Poet and musician Jessica Bell's debut novel String Bridge is a rich exploration of desire, guilt, and the difficult balancing act of the modern woman. The writing is lyrical throughout, seamlessly integrating setting, character and plot in a musical structure that allows the reader to identify with Melody's growing insecurity as her world begins to unravel … String Bridge is a powerful debut from a promising writer, full of music, metaphor, and just a hint of magic.” ~ Magdalena Ball, author of Repulsion Thrust and Sleep Before Evening

“Jessica Bell is a brilliant writer of great skill and depth. She doesn't pull back from the difficult scenes, from conflict, pain, intensity. She puts it all out there, no holds barred, no holding back. She knows how to craft a scene, how to develop character, how to create suspense. This is an absolutely brilliant debut novel. I look forward to reading her next novel, and next and next.” ~ Karen Jones Gowen, author of Farm Girl, Uncut Diamonds and House of Diamonds

Saying goodbye to the dying without expectation

2011-11-09T09:02:00.000-05:00

looking at daddy

The living place pressures upon the dying—even if both are unaware of the dynamics of this dance while it is occurring.

So many times I walked into my father’s hospital room and at the times he was awake and aware, I wore “Expectations” as a heavy cloak. Oh, at the time, I didn’t recognize this state of Expectation. This hanging in mid-air with the thought he’d somehow catch me in his arms and hold me close and say, “It’s all going to be okay.” After all, he’s a daddy, right? And I’m a daughter, right? That is how it should be, right?

I thought we’d look at each other and in our eyes were all our years behind us that we’d share some secret laughs and cries about, but we’d forget the regrets and hurts. And then our eyes would change slightly and all the years ahead of us that we weren’t going to ever have again would display as poignant gleaming but no tears allowed to fall, for that would be too much too much—my father and I, eye to eye, heart to heart, moment to moment, together, one person for just that speck of time as we communicated through time and space our Last together.

I didn’t get what I wanted. Instead, my father went about the business of his dying in his own way. I couldn’t understand all those ways, and at times I was shamed at my frustration, my restless standing by his bedside, searching him out, waiting, watching for The Moment—you know, like in the movies, right? Where there is this struggle between how things were but as the final moments slip away, there is the connection and all is understood and there is some kind of resolution that has the audience dabbing their eyes, and then the death arrives but the connection has been made, so there is no Expectation lingering.

But Real Life isn’t always like the movies, now is it? Real life brings us surprises and tosses and turns and slaps and disappointments along with the wonders and beauties.

My father had his own Expectations and needs and desires and struggles at his end. Perhaps he didn’t see the need for that Last Connection I so sought. Perhaps he thought we were done, that we’d had our say, that we were just fine. Perhaps he knew I’d be okay. Perhaps he was unaware of everything but the need to breathe and Stay until he knew there was no staying—and then, it was a private thing between him and death. Perhaps he was remembering his youth and how strong he was. Or, perhaps he gave the eye to eye to the one who needed it the more.

Just as in life, there are things we children seek that we may never find. We can always be that little child staring up at our fathers, waiting for them to heal the wound on our knee, and they, well, they can’t see the scraped knee, for they are too tall, and their eyes are on other things—non-fatherly things, bigger things, things that have nothing to do with something that is so large and complex to us while invisible or tiny to them.

Once we brought him home, I held his hand almost continually at that last of his life, afraid to leave his beside, keeping a finger on his pulse, whispering everything I had to say into his ear, believing he heard me, seeking out the resolution I so craved. I also slept by his side the night before he died, finger glued to pulse, thinking he may awake, suddenly turn to me and tell me everything I needed to hear—even if I didn’t know just what that would be.

He didn’t wake. It was a one-way conversation. He slipped away and no holding onto his hand would keep him with me. No Expectations would hold him to the earth.

It was only in my at last facing this Expectation that I was able to let it go. Let him go. Let him be who he was in his life and in his death. The dying did not change him, and why would I expect it to be so? He was the man he’d always been. He loved me, and was proud of me, and really, after all, was there a need for that eye to eye moment of poignancy, of saying goodbye in the way I Expected? Instead, there is only the letting go by accepting what is and ever was between my father and me.

looks around, blinks in the Killian Knob sunlight, sees you all, smiles at you

2011-11-07T08:58:00.001-05:00

Good Morning Friends.

I'd hoped to have photos of the Odyssey my brother and I took here there and yonder, but since we only had his camera, I will have to wait for them. He was on his way home to Texas and hit a metal pipe - all the gas poured out. Luckily, he'd stopped at the Arkansas rest stop and that's when he discovered this, instead of when flying down the interstate where I shudder to think . . . *can't think of that!*

From last Monday until Friday, we were in: Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, a teeny bit of Illinois, Kentucky, Tennessee, and North Carolina. We did every bit of our travel from a map -- no GPS, no mapquest, nothing but state maps and our sense of direction. We took a lot of back roads, and saw some beautiful country-side. More later.

So, today, as I still am settling in and finding my legs from all that has happened, I will leave you with some photos I took yesterday of the lingering fall colors from a hike on my mountain at Killian Knob.

Once again, I am so appreciative of your thoughts for my family and me in the illness and then loss of our father. I read every one. All of them. Thank you.

Odyssey . . .

2011-11-02T11:48:00.000-04:00

Daddy and me

From my Facebook Page-- My brother and I are on an Odyssey of sorts, left Texas and headed in a northwestern direction, then we'll go in a north or southeastern direction where he will eventually take me back home to NC and he'll go back to TX. We will visit one place that has special meaning regarding our dad. But for now, we are in Arkansas somewhere. It's as if we are nearing the event horizon of a black hole, there's that place where time seems to stop, even if it hasn't really. I am so appreciative of all of your thoughts/prayers/mail/everything. Off we go again soon. Will be back again later. ♥

one of my favorite photos of my dad

To My friends . . . My father ....

2011-10-28T12:19:00.000-04:00

My father passed away last night with his family surrounding him.

I was here in Texas for three weeks as you know, returned to my cove for a couple of days, and then flew back here on Monday. We bought him home from the hospital to hospice care at his home on Wednesday- he was so happy to be home.

He knew of all of your thoughts and wishes and prayers and comments and emails and etc. I told him, and we read out loud what you all were saying so he could know how so many people where thinking of him - on twitter and facebook and here and all over this old earth people were thinking of my father - this I will never forget and will always be grateful.

Thank you. My last weeks, days, and hours with my father are something I will treasure forever.

I will return as soon as - well, you understand - a little time and I will be back.

I am blowing you all a kiss.

I want to tell you of my dream, though - I can't help to tell about it because I feel it means something even if only to my brain doing something to give me comfort - but I was lying with my dad in his hospital bed yesterday early afternoon or evening while he was still here but slipping away from us, and I fell asleep and my head was touching his head and I was holding his hand and right before I woke, I had a dream of a beautiful horse flying into the sky - up up up it galloped into the sky - and there was blue, either the sky or the horse or both - and I thought "oh how beautiful, how lovely" and then I woke and I had the most peaceful feeling - I cannot describe this peaceful feeling, but it was through my entire body, and I felt in a daze from it. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen and felt.

Thank you all, my friends. You just being "here" and "there" means more than you know

Photos: No Words - fall in the cove; after "Peak" is still vivid

2011-10-24T09:52:00.000-04:00

Of Pratfalls, Dream-state Driving, and Embarrassing Moments

2011-10-18T11:20:00.001-04:00

In states of exhaustion and worry/stress, the oddest things can happen. Like, driving to the hospital and once parked, thinking, “How did I get here? Did I drive? Oh, I must have, since I am in the driver’s seat and my hands are upon the wheel. Oh, lawd.” Which is why you should look at one driver out of, say, fifty, and wonder just how exhausted they are and stressed/worried and if they even know they are driving their car—scary huh?

Other things happen, too. Like pratfalls, except they aren’t funny until after one realizes one isn’t broken and bloody but only bruised. I took one of those while stopping by my dad’s house on a dark evening. Hands full of something or other, I tripped over the one short step and went flying. Now, when one goes flying towards the unknown, it’s crazy the amount of time one has to think things: “Am I going to die?/Am I going to break every bone in my body?/I haven’t seen the latest episode of Modern Family so I can’t go into a coma and good thing I have on my cute undies, just in case, and I should have eaten that Snickers bar because I’ll now be in a coma and somewhere in some dream-state I'll wish I had a Snickers bar . . .” KABLAM! Pavement & Metal Table Contact—slammed knee to pavement/chest to metal table—UNGH! I heard the gasp from my sis-in-law, and as I lay there, I assessed the damage: Not bad. So I laugh, hysterically and belly-full laughing, while saying, “Omg, this huuurrts! Oww, hahahaha, hahaha, OWWW, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OHHHOWWIE! GUFFAW!” Huhn. Later I ate a Snickers bar and savored every bite with my still intact-teeth.

Embarrassing things happen, too. Things that you don’t want to tell ANYONE, but since you are me, you laugh and snort and tell your family, who tells other people because you say, “Did you tell them what happened to me? Hahahhahahahaha!” and those tell others, and then you figure what the heck, so you write it on a blog where great numbers of people will know. Ha. So, I’m in a hurry to go to the hospital and I run into my brother’s bathroom first, toss down my jeans (no delicate way to write this, you know, folks), and as I’m, um, “teetling” I think, “Something doesn’t feel right. Something’s wrong!” Oh, something was wrong all right (and I can see GMR’s face as he reads this at home in our cove – as he does when he reads other things he can’t believe I am writing about)—I’d forgotten to pull down my wittle undies. Yup folks. That is exhaustion—when you don’t even remember to pull down your wittle pannies and sit there teetling into them. Okay, now I am laughing, for I find this hilarious—and probably that’s the exhaustion, too—

--for folks, when you are exhausted and stressed, the stupidest things are hilarious, and the littlest moments are tenderest, and the smallest upsets are mountainous, and the tiniest nice thoughts/actions are exceedingly momentous.

Okay, my friends, some good news: Dad is scheduled to have the intubation tube removed today after he wakes and recovers from a little surgical procedure that isn't related to the cause of his intubation but a result of it, so we are all excited. There were times I didn’t think my dad would make it, and I admit that even though I don’t like to admit it—but, we all never gave up hope, and that’s the thing, y’all, good old hope has wings.

I haven’t much had time/energy/mood to think about my books and book sales and etc, but Bellebooks/Bell-Bridge Books has been a dream about this, and has given me a month’s extension if I need it for VK III (the final Grace’s book). And, in some fun news, we have a reader for audio books for The Firefly Dance (and she’s wonderful!), and we have a reader for audio books for Sweetie—I picked her and loved her voice for Melissa. There is a reader for Tender Graces for audio books I really hope can do TG, for she is my Virginia Kate and I really really want her to do it. So soon there should be some audio books out, if you like audio books.

*Blowing A Kiss* to you all. When (I had written "if" - no no WHEN) Dad’s off the ventilator and 24-hour watch goes by fine, then soon I will be wending my way back home and back to my regular schedule of Life and Writing and Posting and Visiting—thank you for your continued support and love and well-wishes and thoughts. *Big Ole Heart Here* MUWAH!

Random Thoughts while in Texas Land

2011-10-13T11:26:00.001-04:00

The Grackles love Arlington, Texas. They congregate here, oblivious to us lowly humans, shrieking and preening and strutting, flocking in quantities that make my mouth go O in awe.

In a short amount of time, I’ve driven two-hundredish miles just in the city of Arlington, and most of that is back and forth between either my mom’s house or my brother’s house and MCA hospital. While doing this, I notice how I have not seen any license plates that are not TEXAS license plates. It could mean no one visits here (except me) from other states. However, a proud Texan would say, “Once the visitor visits, they never leave but instead convert to Texans.” :-D

Hospitals are strange places with little communities and I notice those communities even more so in the hospital cafeteria. There’s the break-down of staff: nurses, doctors, therapists of all sorts, maintenance, etc. There are the volunteers. There are the visitors (like me). There are a sprinkling of patients who are allowed out of their rooms. Each little community leans over their table, eating, talking (or not talking), without an awareness of what is going on in the communities around them—except for me, since I am aware of everyone and probably taking notes, even if I do not realize this "note-taking." Somewhere, a hospital setting will occur in some book; I am betting anyway.

Listening to the radio in my car, I recognize how nothing has changed in the years since I worked a “Desk Job” and drove my car daily to and from The Office. The announcers sound the same; they still repeat the same song(s) in some kind of cycle throughout the day, every day. There are still give-aways of tickets to concerts. There are still songs that I want to turn up the volume and those I quickly click off. It’s rather comforting to know this Radio Thing has lasted through The Ages of Me.

I have many more friends than I ever thought I had, and most I have never met face-to-face. The thought of all these people extending their hands and hearts to me, this woman who isn’t anything special, makes me feel a profound gratitude.

I can go longer without food than I ever thought I could. This is not a good thing. The same goes for sleep, and quiet, and writing.

Texas drivers are more courteous than I realized. They’ve more than once taken pity on this North Carolina driver who is skirting the edge of complete exhaustion. Thank you Texans!

Sometimes a dream about a huge gigantic venomous snake that fills you with poison is just a dream about a huge gigantic venomous snake that fills you with poison.

To the young woman in the hospital parking lot that I impulsively turned back to her and told her she should really stop smoking, and we both smiled at each other—me with “really, I hope you quit” and she with “Aw shucks, I’ve heard it all before.” I wonder, will my voice be the one that makes you go, “Hmmm . . . maybe I should quit,” even if it is subconscious?

I haven’t thought about my book sales in two weeks. It’s rather freeing. There is this “well, what happens, happens” thing as I clip my father’s fingernails, rub lotion on his bald head, on his hands, feet, arms, as I slip a little teeny bit of water on his dry tongue, as I hold his hand, as I adjust his pillows and covers, as I dab a wet cloth over his face and eyes. There is a perspective to life and living. A priority thing.

I look like hell in a state full of women who are perfectly coifed and shaved and make-up’ped and dressed and jeweled, but guess what? Nobody cares. Nobody notices. Nobody snatches me up and says, “Gawd, you look like hell.” Thanks y’all.

I wonder if my mountain cove and mountain and ridgetop and the critters and my dogs (dawgs as I say and make no apologies for it) and my GMR and the creek and wind and trees all miss me as much as I miss them?

Finally: Again, I thank you all for the love and support you’ve shown while I am here in Texas Land with my family *blows kiss*

Grackle photo

Things I know while visiting my father in MCA hospital:

2011-10-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

I know from “listening” to my father’s facial expressions:

Three hand squeezes means “I love you.”

A winking eye does not mean, as a nurse said, “your dad was flirting with us earlier!” but instead means he has something in his eye and please remove it.

Eyes wide and looking here and there means, “When am I getting out of here?”

Eyes to my watch, of course, “What time is it?”

Eyes wide, eyebrows up down together, look right left: "How long have I been here/What day is it?/When am I getting this tube out of my throat?"

Squinchy eyebrows drawn together, “What’s going on? What are they going to do?”

Moving feet/legs back and forth means, “Could you put a pillow under my legs?”

Mouth forming "W" . . . what/when/where/why - and I must figure out by asking.

Open mouth, close, open: Thirsty/mouth is so dry.

I know that . . .

I know that nurses work really incredibly hard. I know that most of the nurses I really like and respect, but there is one that I do not particularly care for, though I’d never tell her because why would I? But I carry that with me like a little nippy dog in my purse. I like and respect the doctors, save for one who patronizes me and thinks I’m not smart enough to know he’s an ass and I am the consummate Ass Spotter. I don't think I hide that nippy dog as well around him.

I know that no matter how germaphobic one can be or many times one washes one’s hands, and uses antibacterial lotion, and tries not to touch things, that sometimes people who visit the hospital feeling well will find themselves on the bathroom floor for nine hours sick as the clichéd dog while later the nurse says, “Oh, yeah, there’s a virus going around the hospital.”

There is a filled bed in the ICU one minute, and the next minute there are people sobbing, and the next minute the door to that room is closed, and the next day the bed is emptied and the sobbing people do not return and soon there is someone else in that bed with new people visiting.

Hospital cafeterias are not known for their healthy food—go figure.

Someone in the elevator can look at your worried face and when the elevator doors open, they say simply, “Good luck,” and you want to hug them.

Living out of a suitcase makes one feel as if they do not belong, even if they are staying with welcoming wonderful family, they feel a sense of intrusiveness, a sense of being in the way, an almost apologetic “sorry” across their features as they try to meld into the routines of the lives of those they love but rarely see.

Sometimes I feel whiny: I miss my bed. I miss GMR. I miss my dogs. I miss my mountain cove. I miss my singing creek. I miss writing my book. I miss the smell of fresh mountain air. I miss the trees waving at me. I miss my mountain cove walks. Then I get over my whining and go about the business of family.

Everyone else’s coffee tastes like shit.

My daddy didn’t look like himself until today, and that was when I looked at his forearms. Those were his forearms. And then I saw his face and it was again him.

A rainbow, just a tiny piece of one, bloomed between the breaks in the clouds and I pointed and said, “Look Daddy, a rainbow arcing right over your room, right over your bed.” He was asleep but I think he heard me.

There is tired. There is exhausted. Then there is Loved One Is Very Ill Fatigue, and that is a fatigue you know oh so very well once you’ve known it. It won't stand to be forgotten.

Whatever I am going through, there are people who have gone through so much worse for far longer and I have the utmost complete awed respect for them -- I can't say that emphatic enough.

To all of you - thank you, once again, for your thoughts and well wishes for my father. He is improving and we are hoping he'll have the intubation tube removed within a week, maybe soon as a few days. I told him how you all were pulling for him and sending such nice wishes and thoughts and prayers and all the ways you believe in. Thank you! I know I am erratic in coming around, but I think you all understand.

Update on my father

2011-10-06T15:32:00.000-04:00

Hello Eveyone - thank you for your thoughts via here, FB, twitter, and email - it helps more than you know.

There are some changes in my father - his kidneys have improved, and his heart is strong; however, he is still critical in ICU, and his lungs still have a ways to go. He's still intubated. They did take him off the paralyzing drugs and lessened his sedation so that we were able to communicate with him some yesterday, but that exhausted him completely. Right now, only family are able to visit him, and his friends and patients have been wonderful and understanding.

I am in Arlington, Texas, for those of you who asked. There are many dead trees and bushes and browned grasses, but it hasn't been very hot here - not considering the 100 + degrees heat they've had for their summer. In fact, most of the time it has been pleasant outside - dry and warm with a nice breeze. The hottest day a few days back did have me burn my hand on the window of my boopmobile that sat out in the hospital parking lot in direct sun - ouch! But no more hot days like that since.

I am discussing the weather - oh gee! How boring can I get! But, my brain will just not muster up anything else. This is an exhaustion many of you know who have had a sick loved one. The travel from my city to this city, the staying with family and not in your own bed and space, the worry worry worry, the back and forth and back and forth to hospital.

Thank you, again, for all your thoughts - they help, and they are certainly appreciated.

My father . . .

2011-09-29T18:52:00.000-04:00

I am writing to you from Texas, where I quickly and suddenly drove to be here. My father is very ill. Please keep him and our family in your thoughts as we hope for a recovery. He's in ICU now and heavily sedated.

I already feel your well-wishes, strange as that sounds.

Photos: No Words - Dupont State Park (and a few from my cove)

2011-09-26T13:24:00.000-04:00

(My brother went home today *sad face* so now time to get back to work. I'll have some photos/video of our Great Smoky Mountains Train ride soon! - Loved it - I have become a true "Train Person" now :-D )

Great Smoky Mountains Railroad

2011-09-21T19:37:00.000-04:00

Hello y'all! My brother and I are out having fun -- doing, seeing, antiquing/collectibling, rock-ogling, exploring, hiking, etc., so I haven't had time to write up a post or pull together any Linky Love.

Tomorrow we'll be going on the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad . . . what fun! Ole GMR will stay behind at the little log house, waving "so long see y'all later" as he relaxes back with a big ole sigh from all the noise and laughing and jittery twitchyness that is my brother and me - haw! Now you all go have some fun and have a wonderful weekend. I'm hurrying off to see what Tommy is up to ... :-D

Photos-Video: No Words (and a link to interview)

2011-09-19T09:05:00.000-04:00

Take Me Home Mountain Mama – Kathryn Magendie Interview by author Kimberly Brock, whose own novel will be released in 2012 by Bellebooks!

My brother and I didn't know "this thang was on" - until later in the video (pardon the "finger display" and I think there is a cuss word in there - oh oh lawd! :-D)

Links: Daniel Wallace Guest Author at R&T, Firefly Dance, RAP, etc

2011-09-14T11:23:00.002-04:00

Morning y'all. Today I have general poodley-doo and links for you. I'm in the homestretch for the final Graces Saga, and after that, well, who knows what comes next. I have some thoughts, but they are wavery and hidden behind mists and are so unformed, I do not know what I'll discover.

First. The Firefly Dance anthology that I have a novella "Petey" in, along with works by Sarah Addison Allen, Augusta Trobaugh, and Phyllis Schieber, is now out in print and ebook forms. I believe that Bellebooks will be having some sort of Kindle promo, but I do not know when or how or what it will be. However, I want to pass that along. As always, I hope you will ask for books in bookstores, especially your local independent bookstore, and the library. Yes, I linked to Amazon, but I cannot deny that people buy books for kindle!

In Rose & Thorn news: if you haven't stopped by our Rose & Thorn Journal, please do before the summer issue flies away.

Our fall issue goes live October 15th, and we have a Special Guest Author: Daniel Wallace, author of BIG FISH (which was made into a movie in 2003) is our Guest Author for our fall issue. We will, from time to time, have special guest authors/poets.

We are proud of all of our gifted and talented writers and poets - Angie Ledbetter and I want to extend to you the invitation to submit to Rose & Thorn. Go in, read all of or a sampling of our stories and poetry in summer issue and in the archived issues - then submit!

Angie and I, our Managing Editor Cynthia Toups, and the wonderful staff of R&T, are known for publishing established and emerging voices. We love it when we "discover" a new voice, someone who hasn't been published before - it's exciting!

I found this on Fuel Your Writing, where people are sending in their writing spaces. I haven't yet, but I just might!

On Jane Friedman's blog: Writing on the Ether by former CNN journalist Porter Anderson. "Writing on the Ether will round up some of the best and timeliest articles related to writing and publishing that you don’t want to miss."

There was a "Random Acts of Publicity" on Facebook, where people could go in and talk about an author's book. Linda Leschak, who has been a contributor to Rose & Thorn and quite the wonderful writer herself, surprised me by talking up SWEETIE on RAP, along with a fun interview with me. Thank you, Linda! I hope y'all will stop by her blog, if not to read the blushingly wonderful things she said about Sweetie, then, most important, to come to know an interesting strong woman.

I didn't think I was going to try this, but I did try the Kindlegraph. I put the Sweetie novel only because I was curious, and because I want to stop being afraid of new things *laugh* - so, Sweetie is now on Kindlegraph, and I've "signed" a few Sweeties. Very weird and surreal thing this new world of books and publishing and interaction between readers and authors is! Still not sure what I think about it, but it is there and I will see what comes of it.

That's enough for now. Hope you all enjoy the links. Now go do the day! Have a great weekend, and I'll see you next week. And don't forget to spend some time relaxing and finding a state of gratitude! Namaste.

Photos/Video: no words; America the Beautiful, my cove, Lake J walk, Wolf-tales

2011-09-12T10:34:00.000-04:00

This old marriage thang: When Kat has the little log house to herse'f

2011-09-07T12:39:00.000-04:00

GMR just returned from a trip to South Louisiana--Baton Rouge & Paulina--where he visited with friends from his high school days at Fortier HS in New Orleans, and even more important, where he saw for the first time his son's new baby Ian Paul. Now between us we have four grandkids!

I wasn't able to go on this trip, and while here alone, I notice how without GMR goading/reminding me to eat (or to cook it himself *haw*) I do not do so well with eating "right." In fact, I was watching OWN's Super Skinny vs Super Size and when the doctor told one of the young women she was eating an amount a four year old would eat, I noticed it looked more than I'd had - lawd!

Mostly, I ate sandwiches, followed by baked potato, followed by canned soup/tuna. In other words, the quickest crap I could pull together. Now, less you think I ate unhealthy crapadoodle-doodoo; I really did not, for I had yogurt and lots-o-fruit and such. But, I just do not eat enough or a variety of foods when left to my own devices.

While he is gone the house stays spotless. He’s going to read this and go, “Hey!” and give me one of his looks of disbelief and woebegonity and all that jazz. But it is true. I clean the house the day he leaves and it stays the same until he returns when all hell breaks loose. Quit looking at me like that GMR. It’s true.

On the flipside, he does his own laundry (but hey, so do I, just sayin!), and there are things that I don’t have to do because he most all the time does them first: empties the dehumidifiers, puts out and takes in the bird feeders and such and all, cooks real food, puts gas in my car, "makes groceries." That’s another thing—when he isn’t here I become completely reclusive. I mean more than usual. I will walk the dogs in the cove, but my car does not move from its spot the entire time he’s gone unless there is some really important reason for me to leave—and not having any real food in the house wouldn’t be one of them, for I’d just find some sumpin to throw on a plate.

He returned last night, and already this morning he is itching to go to The Grocery. He calls it “the grocery” – I hear that in New Orleans people a lot. “I’m going to The Grocery now.” When I wrote “going to grocery” in my novel(s), a beta reader said, “don’t you mean “to the grocery store?” Naw. Just to The Grocery, or to Make Groceries, because I am honoring GMR and his late momma, who also said “zink” instead of “sink.”

While he is gone, I have the entire bed to myself. Thing is, I really only put a foot or arm over there every so often just because I can, but mainly I am so used to being scrunched on one side I sleep like that even when he’s gone. But, it’s the IDEA that I have the entire bed to myself where if I wanted to wallow around and toss about and flail and spread out by golly gee I could!

One morning I was late with the squirrel feeder seed and the bird seed. I slept in until almost eight—yeah “slept in” means different things at different ages, huhn—so, this bird kept screeching outside my window, “GET UP! GET UP! GET YOUR LAZY ARSE UP!” I stumbled to turn on the coffee, and in my robe and slippers, went out to feed the critters. There was a little red squirrel sitting on top of the sunflower seed can, eyeing me pitifully as if to say, “YOU LAZY ARSE! FEED ME FEED ME!” He jumped to the side when I opened the can, and then proceeded to hang on the edge, looking down into the can in a, “Hurry it up, woman,” I said, “Well, geez, give me a chance . . .” Then he followed me across the railing as I deposited King Squirrel’s breakfast upon its throne. Geez. It looked at me as if to say, “GMR would NEVER sleep in. He delivers our victuals promptly.”

GMR says I never miss him while he’s gone. That’s not true, but it sort of kind of is true (oh oh, he’s going to read this and get that look!). I love GMR, but I am a creature who must have her Space. I must have alone time. I require being Very Very Much Completely Alone, and I do not have that often because GMR is always here (that look again). So, when he goes to Louisiana, I kinda sorta don’t miss him but instead revel in my complete aloneness—unless I have a nightmare, then I am lying in the dark going, “Wish GMR were here. Dang. Sure is dark. Dang. That nightmare skeered the beejeezuz out of me. Dang.” But when morning shines, I’m all, “Aw, who needs GMR? I got this.”

Right now, I’m feeling like that squirrel. GMR is going to The Grocery to make groceries (sometimes pronounced “Grot’tries”) and I am sitting on the edge of the feedcan looking down going, “Hurry up! Whoop! Where’s my food? Hurry hurry!” So, I guess he’s okay to have around and all—you know, at night when I have a nightmare, and when I should be eating regular meals that consist of something cooked hot and steamy on the stove. I suppose it’s okay to have someone to go, “Did you see that? Omg! Hahahaha! That was funny!” or “Did you hear that? I can’t believe he/she said that! Omg!” or "Hey, I'm hungry."

I guess this old marriage thing has its purposes.

(photos by Kat, friend, or purchased from istock)

Photos, Peanuts Comic, Video of breezy cove day . . . no words

2011-09-05T18:25:00.000-04:00

summer issue of Rose & Thorn

Linky Love for writers, authors, readers

2011-08-31T10:38:00.002-04:00

Here are a few places here and there I thought I'd share. There are so many more, so I want to add to this list from time to time as I used to! As you visit these blogs, check out the comments to see other interesting bloggers - this is how our community grows. And new visitors, feel free to join in or lurk or whatever you like.

First off, you can join me on Facebook or Twitter. And any of the links below, be sure to check out their twitter and/or facebook pages. Enjoy . . .

Jody Hedlund always has something wise and wonderful to say to/for writers/authors on her blog.

Kristen Lamb's blog is chock full of tips for writers and has written a book about writers and social media-- she's been discussing the best ways to use twitter and is taking questions for "Dr. Twuth" - teehee.

Also for some really great twitter tips, head over to Nina Badzin's blog. She also writes about family life and writing.

Or you can go to the wonderful Writer Unboxed to read wonderful posts for and about writers - visit their facebook page as well - join us for discussions about writing, reading, writers, etc - they're growing fast!

I loved this blog post about milestones versus goals, written by Tobias Buckell. This was my first visit to his site and I can't even remember how I landed there! :-D

Shelf Awareness - for readers and people in the book business.

Checkerboard Squares by Carolyn V - she has some linky love up so that nabs two birds with one hand.

A Slice of Life by Linda Hoye - such wisdom and beauty on her blog.

Karen G from "coming down the mountain" is having another "BBQ Labor Day(s) Party" where bloggers visit each other and find new friends - I met Karen in this way, and some other great bloggers as well! Join in on Friday.

I love Deb S's blog Catbird Scout- such beauty and insight and poignant expression, good solid writing too boot - she wrote a post that touched me deeply. ". . . Growth requires darkness. Life requires light."

Just found this informatively fun blog: what women write. Right now there is an interview with Agent Kristin Nelson, but scroll on down for more on women and writing and all things related.

Writerhead - with Kristin Bair O’Keeffe, where she asks writers three questions about their "writerhead."

Last, but of course not least, LitStack, for the love of all things wordy.

Now, y'all go do the day and have a nice weekened to boot . . .

Photos, No Words: fall here and there & a short "rocky" trip 'round the little log house

2011-08-29T08:11:00.001-04:00

The Work-Out Writer: How Bad Do You Want This?

2011-08-24T12:38:00.005-04:00

I climbed on the treadmill today with less energy than I wanted. Since at least Monday, I’ve had a dull headache and that weird “impending doom” feeling. GMR teases me about it, but I usually say “Something’s coming,” when I feel this way. That something’s usually geological or atmospheric or combo. I’ve been "right," but maybe as well there are times I’ve been wrong and just didn’t note it—all could be a coincidence. I’m still feeling it today, and danged if some weird thought didn't bomp me in my head: “under the sea,” and now I’m feeling foolish and where was I on this post? I sure need to talk about "distraction" don't I?

Oh yes . . . treadmill, no energy - the old "I don't know if I can do this today" come calling . . .

You think this snail worries about how long it'll take it to cross the road? Does it pause to consider how sucky it is?

During my jog, I wanted to stop multiple times. I didn’t want to challenge myself. I wanted Easy. To go along at this slow steady pace, or better yet, walk, or better yet, jump off and go do something else. I became so frustrated with myself, that I yelled in my head, like a red-faced coach, “HOW BAD DO YOU WANT THIS? HUH? HOW BAD DO YOU WANT THIS?” And all of a sudden, I wanted it BAD! I was fired up! I was ready to work. I bumped up the speed and tore off on the treadmill.

During one particular song, I pushed off on my leg and hovered in the air before slamming down, and did it again and again. As I hovered there, it felt as if I were suspended about a foot in the air, when in reality, I probably only came up a few inches—but the Perception was I felt myself higher. Does it really matter if I only came up a few inches? Or is the Perception of what I felt I accomplished a just-as-important reality? I like to think the latter, for it inspired me to take it further/farther, to run stronger, to push myself past the point of what I thought, or what I told myself (and this is an important insight), was my limit.

HOW BAD DO YOU WANT THIS?

Take what I said above and apply it to your writing life, or your musical life, or your artistic life, or your work life, your home life, your Life. How bad do we want what we think we want the most? How hard are we willing to work for it? How often are we willing to feel uncomfortable? How often are we able to face disappointment and still go on? And how much are we willing to push ourselves past the point where we think we must stop?

And when we push off, hovering in the air, feeling powerful and strong, do we let that wonderful perception spur us on to do more and better and stronger? Or do we say, “Eh, I was really only inches off the ground. No big deal. Other people can jump higher. Eh.” How bad do you want this? Bad enough to sweat and push and sprint and, as well, sometimes to feel pain and set-backs and exhaustion but pick yourself up and do it again. And again. And again. And again. Once again.

I’ll tell you what giving up or giving in gives you: Not a danged thing but regret. And the flipside of that is this: you can work your ass off and still not reach all of your goals, but I can guarantee you’ll have accomplished more than you ever dreamed you could if you do not give in to negativity and fear and doubt, and note I said "not give in to it" not that you'll never feel those things.

You’ll have jumped up, hovered higher than you ever thought you could soar, grow stronger, faster, more determined. Note the accomplishments and savor them, for even the smallest goal reached is A Goal Reached. Why do we disregard even the smallest of goals? They weren’t so small when we were arching towards them, were they?

How bad do you want this?

Photos by kat . . .

Photos/Videos & two comics, no words

2011-08-22T12:26:00.000-04:00

teeheehee

[If you missed it (And check out Steph's other interviews - she's a beautiful, positive person to listen to and to know): ] See y'all Wednesday -

Listen to internet radio with Steph Jordan on Blog Talk Radio

The Work-out Writer

2011-08-17T12:11:00.004-04:00

Work-out: In my personal trainer days, I used to tell clients to “listen to their bodies” to let them know how much they could do. I now recognize how this isn’t always the case. Sometimes our bodies/minds want to fool us, because it is Hard.

When I was in Oregon, I jogged a rather difficult path with my son. It surprised me how much trouble I was having, because I thought I’d been doing The Difficult Workout on my treadmill. It wasn’t until I returned home that I recognized what I had been doing. Before my trip to Oregon, I'd be on the treadmill and whenever the end of a song came, I’d stop, take a drink, stretch a bit, and then hit it again. What I noticed once I returned from Oregon was that as a song began to end, my body began to tell me to STOP! I saw how I intently watched that little indicator to see when the song would end, and could actually feel the tension in my body urge me to STOP.

I didn’t stop that time, or the next, or next, and soon my body began to adjust to the idea that I wasn’t going to let it get away with it. There are times we must push through when our bodies/minds tell us it wants to slow down or stop—not to the point of exhaustion or dangerous over-working, but that you’ll need to figure out for yourself -- what is your truths and what is your justifications/excuses.

Writer: Some days I just ain’t feelin’ it, you know? Some days I whine that I haven't even been noticed by the New York Times, much less on their best seller's list. Publishers Weekly, why hast thouest forsaken me? Oprah, well dang, that's a long shot of a mil to half of one. Little Indie Bookstores I touted so hard, why ain't my books in your stores? Oh sigh. Wah Wah Wah Woe.

Well, Kat, suck it up. Sit your arse down in the chair, fingers to keys, and write. Timed scheduled writing isn’t going to do it for me, but that's just me. If I have to watch the clock, then I’m going to be ever aware of that clock ticking: 15 minutes of writing? Okay – tic toc tic toc tic toc. The work also isn’t going to be done by my whining about how haaarrrrd it is to be a wrriiiiiitteer—um, maybe it is sometimes hard, but the jobs I had before were soul-suckers, and which would I rather be doing? Tic Toc – let me take a wild guess here: writing? Duh! Yes! Time to stop whining and time to stop my “mind/body” from telling me I caaaaann’t. Books aren’t written by rolling our eyes and sighing about how writers are full of angst and woe-is-me. Royalties aren’t paid to writers who aren’t producing books. The work is done by doing the work. There will be "off days" and I'll respect them, but I must find my truth versus my excuses.

Work-out: Sometimes I want some chocolate, dammit. Sometimes I want to sit on my ass and do nothing but eat that chocolate and feel depressed and not do a danged ole thing. Some days feel sucky.

I don't know if I could ever run a maratttthooonnnn. I'm tired of not eating what I waaaant toooooo. How come she looks so good and young and dewy and she doesn't hardly do a thing and I work my ass off to stay in shhaaaaape (though maybe she is working her ass off, how do I know, huhn). But when I sit on my ass and gobble down an entire box of chocolates, feeling sorry for myself and the state of Everything, what happens is I feel even worse than before. My body is bloated and sick from Chocolate Overload.

I’m sluggish, tired, cranky. Better I’d gone for a walk in my beautiful calming cove and then treated myself to just a few pieces of that chocolate, savoring every bite and feeling happy I ain't doing so bad for a 54 year old -it's fruitless to compare myself to a 20 or 30 year old. It's fruitless and stupid to compare ourselves to Any One Out There: say that loud and say it again and again and again and ever more again: Don't compare yourself to others. Carve your own path. And, geez, you don't know who is comparing themselves to You and wishing they had what you had: just sayin'!

Writer: Sometimes I just want some chocolate. Sometimes I want to sit on my ass and do nothing but eat chocolate and feel depressed and not do a danged ole thing. Some days feel sucky. Well, guess what? So do thousands of other people, and if thousands of us sat our asses on the couch and ate chocolate and did nothing, who’d write the books/newspapers/articles/blogs? Who'd take care of business? Who'd make my supper, GMR? (haw!) This business isn’t always easy, but ask yourself: Is this what I really want to do? Am I ready to be in this for the long-haul? Do I love writing more than my right arm? Am I ready to sacrifice? Can I handle the rejection without breaking up and breaking down? Sometimes this is the easiest best job in the entire danged ole world, and other times it sucks like a big fat suckity sucky britches—but I love it more than my right arm. And, see "soul-sucking jobs" comment above. And also see "comparing yourself" above. Then get back to work.

Work-out: At the end of a grueling work-out, find time to stretch those muscles, and then just as important as the work-out and the stretch comes the quiet moment of reflection. Time and distance from wants and needs will lift us away as we respect our bodies, minds, hearts.

Writer: When the writing day is done, find a moment to reflect on this writing life. Calm the voices, the rejections, the expectations, the harried hurry and the long-ass frustrating waits, and remember just why you love this life so much. The raw beginnings of it, when it was just you and a white space of whatever in the world you wanted to say to anyone who would listen, even if it was only your own ears. Find that joy in quiet reflection. Give yourself a big ole break, okay? There isn't a one of us who can tell you how to do this life and why and how much. We can only find our truths and learn to ignore our excuses/justifications--and they can be sneaky.

Relax. It'll all be okay. Your journey will not be mine and mine will not be hers his yours. Calm. Calm.

Work-out: Night comes. Time to rest the body. Rest is as important as movement. A good night’s sleep prepares you for the next day’s challenge. Let go and sleep sleep. Be grateful for the body that carries you from day to day. Keep it healthy and strong and then give it rest.

Writer: When lying your head upon your pillow, writer, remember to give gratitude for what you have accomplished. This business is so much about looking ahead to what we “should” accomplish, or what may come, or what we hope will come, that we must remember what we did achieve, hold on to it, let it come with us into our dreams. “You Did This! Good for You!” Sleep. Dream. Going to sleep with a heart of gratitude will ready you for the next day’s challenge.

Namaste.

Write.

Update: here is the 'clip' of my fun time with Steph Jordan's "Living in Color." Stephanie is a HUGE supporter of writers, musicians, artists, and etc.

Listen to internet radio with Steph Jordan on Blog Talk Radio

photos Taken by Kat (or kat's bff's or GMRs)

Photos, Video: The power of No Words and the Power of Words

2011-08-15T10:36:00.001-04:00

Life in a larger sense outside this Writing Life . . . "A writer is not a hero anymore. He's a fool."

2011-08-10T15:25:00.001-04:00

While in Portland, Oregon visiting my son, daughter in law, and Lil Boop, I had time to consider life in a larger sense—meaning, outside of my own self-indulgent pursuits. After all, isn’t the writing life a bit self-indulgent? And a bit selfish. It has to be that way so the work is done. Right? I must ignore family, friends, projects, fun and the outside world—of course, these things aren’t always ignored, but they do feel more than their fair share of neglect.More than you may know or I want to admit, actually.

But while holding my granddaughter’s hand, the vision of my world burst out and beyond and I thought how easy it would be to give up all of it if I could just hold onto her hand for more than two short weeks. I thought how I could make things different when I arrived back home to Killian Knob. How I would not spend so much time with the laptop glued to me, how I would go out and experience more. How I would come home and tackle the projects I’ve been meaning to do, how I would spend more time rocking on the porch with GMR.

I’ve been having a great time with my friends Angie Ledbetter and Alaine Benard come to visit me here—getting out and about and all around. They arrived just days after I returned from Portland, and fortunately kept me from sinking back down into my leather chair with laptop attached. And yet I know I will be sucked back into this writing life and all the other suckers that come with it, as if I am the head of an octopus and my eight arms with all their suckers are grabbing here here there there here there and holding on holding holding on less I miss something important or I am not noticed or I ignore someone when I don’t mean to or I don’t do something I should be doing or or or or. And the simple fact is that I just love what I do and that's all there is to it -- it (the writing) is my right arm-leg-fingers-toes, losing it means losing much.

I watched an Anthony Bourdain show where someone had filmed a documentary of him about eleven years ago. There were a couple of things that struck me and I’ll have to paraphrase. One of the guest writers speaking about Bourdain and this writing life said, “A writer is not a hero anymore. He’s a fool.” And I knew what he meant to a certain degree, though I never thought of this writing life as "heroic" or myself as a "hero," ever, never, ever-never. But, the part I understood of that statement was about seeing behind the wizards curtain (I wrote a post about it), how writers aren’t seen as these bigger than life magical people anymore, for the curtain has been pulled back to reveal the little old man. I come from that generation of writers where the curtain has already been pulled back to reveal, not from the "heroic" or magical times.

If I am a fool for doing this (the writing), I go into it with my eyes wide-opened to the foolery of it all. This writing life is all I ever wanted to do, but it can't be all I've ever wanted or needed to Be for that would be somehow lacking.

Bourdain said about this, “Writers are a disappointment compared to their work.” And at that point in the documentary I could see his face changing, for in the beginning there was the excitement of his book coming out, and of being touted and paraded around and the traveling and recognition. And then reality sets in and things begin to warp a bit, fray around the edges. I could see this change in his countenance and features as the documentary wore on.

Then Anthony Bourdain said this, “I want my old life back,” and there was The Face. I’d seen that face before—in my own mirror (and that isn’t to imply, of course, that any of my little successes measure up to his bigger ones at all).

There are times I want to tell writers, “Be careful what you wish for . . .” but, I also know that there is the Rest of the Story. For now you can look at Bourdain’s face grown eleven years older and eleven years wiser. He has taken back some of his power, because he can. In the beginning, we give up power and let ourselves be tossed upon the waves because we are excited and we feel ever so very lucky. Oh how much better to let gratitude slip in for what we have but to recognize we can’t do it all and we shouldn’t try, to let ourselves stop, take a deep breath, and look outward to this larger world. And to learn to let some things Go.

With every story/book I write, I give you everything I have and then I have to let it go out to the world, and what the world does to it and with it is out of my control. I can only write the best book I know how to do. When I learn this is how it must be, I lose The Face. When I walk with my granddaughter, I lose The Face. When I recognize I am so much more than Author of Books—a friend, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a grandmother, a mother, a fallible human being—my world opens out and beyond and I lose The Face, and gain a whole helluva lot more life.

Enjoy your week and the coming weekend, y'all. Namaste!

Photos, No Words: Of friends and Sunsets and Chocolate and Ahhh

2011-08-08T08:34:00.000-04:00

Crippled Bird . . .

2011-08-03T11:56:00.002-04:00

One day a few years back, I looked out of my window here in my little log house in the mountain cove, and there was a little bird with a crippled leg. It had to hop about on one leg because the other one was crooked and bent back behind her. I watched that bird every day as she balanced on the feeder, as she hopped about, and as she managed to look graceful all the while. Until one day she wasn’t there any longer and I’ve never seen her since—did she die of natural causes? Did something get to her because of her weakness? Did she find another place to feed that isn’t as crowded by other birds at our bird feeder? I often wish she would come back because it was both painful and beautiful to watch her—I cannot aptly explain that feeling of pity and respect and awe as she’d hop about on one leg, land on the feeder with that one foot, perch on the tree limb with that one foot. Ever tried to stand on one foot? There you go.

I see injured or crippled animals and know that they may be surviving only because we are providing easy food. Take away that easy food and would they survive? Some people/naturalists may ask, “Should they survive?” They ask that because in the natural wild there is natural processes—the weak are weeded out and the strong survive. The weak do not breed or are not bred with because that weakness will be passed on, and if a wild critter is weak, it may not be able to feed itself, or feed its offspring, or get away from predators. We differ there, us humans, as we should, and because we can.

Nature isn’t merciful—or is it is its own way showing mercy? Of course, nature doesn’t allow for these thoughts, because it just is what it is. We humans interfere in nature because we can identify. We see a crippled or maimed animal and we empathize, we sympathize, we know how it feels, or know someone who knows how it feels, or have a loved one who knows how it feels—we attach human qualities to nature; we anthropomorphize nature (look at what some do to their pets, particularly dogs-dressing them in clothing, etc. They become family members and have evolved their characteristics—through breeding or otherwise—to fit in with us.).

Still, when I saw that beautiful bird find a way to survive seemingly unaware of its difference from other birds, I was filled with a joy that mixed with my pity and wonder. The little crippled bird, and all creatures, have an incredible will to survive, they have no time to feel sorry for themselves, for it is in their nature to find a way to live until it is time for them to die. And then that is what they do.

It's ironic that the "higher of the species," the more intelligent of them, the "higher evolved" on this planet earth, don't always have that will to survive or rise above our weaknesses. We can give up too easily. Find things toooo haaaarrrrd. We become discouraged. Disillusioned, disheartened. Sometimes we flat Give Up. Throw our arses out in the wild and see what that attitude will do for us, eh? But we also have the ability to hold up others when they need our strength. We use that empathy and sympathy to understand and then give charity.

I could metaphor this post all up and down for whatever it is a person, you-me-them-us, is going through right now--be that something small or something looming large, but all I really wanted to do was write up a post about this little crippled bird I so admired. I don't think I'll ever forget her.

(None of the bird photos are of the crippled bird - I never did take a photo and I sometimes wish I had, sometimes.)

I wanted to write something about my Oregon trip, but I keep holding it to me, as if it is a little gift I don't want to re-open, for it makes me both happy and sad to see the memories inside again.

Y'all have a wonderful day, rest of the week, and weekend.

Photos, Video, few Words . . . "Granny Kat" in Oregon

2011-08-01T09:56:00.002-04:00

Like her Granny Kat, Lil Boop loves and is fascinated by rocks; she loves to have quiet time alone; she loves to contemplate with that far away look; she loves to put her nose to things and inhale information; she loves outside; she loves to dance.

See y'all on Wednesday with a regular blog post. I am so sorry I have not been by. With the novella to be released in the anthology (below-The Firefly Dance) and VK III (last in the Graces Trilogy) to complete for my deadline this month, and trip to Oregon, and R&T - *big deeeeeep breath* I am snarled in a snarly snarl world :-D

The Firefly Dance cover . . . and I am Home

2011-07-28T07:50:00.001-04:00

Hi y'all - I'm home and all discombobulated - :-D --- It's that feeling of having a brain filled with little cottony clouds. Plane rides and time changes and most of all missing my little family there in Oregon. I will have pics and such later. For now, I will leave you with the cover image of the anthology where I have my novella PETEY, along with three other other authors' novellas. It's a beautiful cover.

I'll be back to regular posting next week. I am almost done with VK III -- publication date set for sometime in October. Photos on Monday and writing a post on Wednesday - twice a week seems fine to post, dontcha thank?

The anthology will be out soon, around 2 weeks, and probably on a Kindle promo in September or October, and then whatever, wherever, and etc.

See you all next week! :-D

Summer Photos, no words: walk in the cove at Killian Knob

2011-07-27T10:00:00.003-04:00

Now, Second dimension Kathryn is on her way back from Oregon, where she will converge with First dimension Kathyrn - chaos ensues.

Summer Flowers, No words - a walk at Moody Farm Road

2011-07-20T10:00:00.000-04:00

Second dimension Kathryn is still posting while First dimension Kathryn is in Oregon . . .

Through The Wormhold on Science Channel

2011-07-13T10:00:00.011-04:00

I could say "Hello from Oregon" because as you read this I will be there; however, I haven't even arrived there yet. In fact, I am sitting here in my leather chair in the little log house and it will be Tuesday the 12th before I fly out--the day before this post goes live, which is still a few days away from today as I write this. But, since I am able to post ahead of time - I can be two places at once. As if I am in another dimension and this other dimension Kathryn is posting while the first dimension Kathryn plays with Little Boop. And as for the other Kathryns in the other dimensions, well, who knows what they are up to *laughing*

On that note - if you haven't wtached The Science Channels "Through the Wormhole," hosted by Morgan Freeman - you must! you must!

Hair Dryer Antics Update & Oregon here I come. . .

2011-07-11T10:00:00.002-04:00

Okay my friends - first off, your comments to the hairdryer "do not use while sleeping" post made me laugh! Haw!

In response, a reader friend sent me this: Sleeping with a blow-dryer and eating toilet paper: Reality show exposes strange addictions - so it just goes to show you, my friends, you can list umpteen-gamillion warnings on a product and we will laugh at them and go "whatever!" and then come to find out someone out there has done them or is doing them, and maybe worse. Soon, the pamphlet for "do not do this" will be the size of War & Peace if they are going to warn us against every conceivable thing a person will and can do, much to our continued and amazed, "You must be kidding . . . "

I'm really here on a Monday, instead of with my Random Photos/No Words, because tomorrow, Tuesday, I board a plane for Oregon to visit my son, daughter-in-law, and Lil Boop! I am so excited. I leave behind my GMR, little log house, psycho cutie dog and not quite fat dog, my mountains, cove at Killian Knob, and et cetera and fly up up and away to the Land of Oregon where I will be for two weeks.

Lucky me.

Reading the fine (and kind of ridiculous & funny) print . . .

2011-07-06T12:40:00.001-04:00

short hair

I didn’t use a hairdryer for over 10 years, and in fact, I never brushed my hair for over ten years-not kidding. My hair stayed short to boy-short for those years or more. All of a sudden, I have hair that’s grown about chin length, and I figured I needed a decent hairdryer, and I even dug out a brush, ungh.

So I went to Sally Beauty Supply and bought this fancyish hairdryer with Ionic something another and ceramic doodly doo dah day, and molecule flippity floop doop, with tourmaline zippity do dah zip, and it wasn’t the most expensive, but more than I usually would think I'd pay for a hairdryer.

Last night I was reading the information sheet, and there were the usual, “Don’t put this in the water or around water or with water” while using or plugged in. Common knowledge, but I understand the need to tell people they shouldn’t be blow-drying their hair while bathing or showering--do they really? but well, okay, maybe someone doesn't know this yet. Maybe someone wants to do two things at once in this busy old time: bathe/shower and dry their hair.

But this one sentence made me laugh. I’m giggling now as I write this: Never use while sleeping.

hair growing out wily nilly before dryer - dang, I had to start brushing it as I obviously didn't do here

I kid you not. Never use while sleeping is one of the warnings/instructions in the information sheet of my new hair dryer. Haw!

my new hairdryer

Okay. Well. How did they come up with that one? Had someone been drying their hair in bed and fallen asleep and mayhem came calling? I’m shrugging.

Meanwhile, I will use my new hairdryer: not in the bathtub or shower. Not near any puddles of water. I won’t insert things into it. I will “keep my hair out of it” (yes, that’s another one: “Keep your hair out of it.” I won’t use with a voltage converter. I won’t use it outdoors. I won’t “direct hot air towards eyes or other heat-sensitive areas.”

And most of all! I will not use the hairdryer while sleeping.

Huhn.

VK III is humming along nicely. I’m pleased with my progress and will have no problem making my deadline. All that worry and angst and stressing over nothing—Virginia Kate pulled through for me: yay VK! This book, as I’ve said before, had to be ripped out of me, and part of that is because of some darker places I had to write about.

In other news, and I can’t remember if I mentioned this before. BB has sold foreign rights to a Russian Literary publisher, so Tender Graces and I think Secret Graces (not sure about Sweetie) will be in Russian! I can’t wait to see how that turns out.

not a firefly :-D

The Firefly Dance has had some delays, but soon as I know more about that anthology I will pass it on.

Now, y’all go have a good great day. And remember: Do Not, Ever Ever, Use Your Hairdryer While Sleeping!

Photos, no words: A walk in my Cove on Fourth of July

2011-07-04T09:00:00.000-04:00

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY MY WONDERFUL FRIENDS!

Bluegrass . . .

2011-06-29T12:16:00.001-04:00

While winding along I-40 one morning, the sun roaring over our Smoky Mountains with every bit of arrogance the sun deserves (and only the mountains can face the sun without averting a gaze), I listened to Bluegrass—the soul-filled mournful fiddle crept up the back of my spine and settled there, vibrating until my entire body strummed and thrummed.

The roots of Mountain Music, our Bluegrass music, arrived here with the immigration of people from Ireland, Scotland, England, Africa. Early settlers of Western North Carolina were Scots-Irish, and when they arrived, they brought with them their songs and their fiddles and they expressed the human condition through their vocal and instrumental storytelling, passing them down from generation to generation, each voice, each instrument, each condition molded and formed to fit, yet at the same time, as ancient and consistent as mountain life itself.

In those early pioneer days, women generally weren’t allowed to play banjo or fiddles, so they sang, passing down from mother to daughter their musical stories. The story-songs had as big impact on Bluegrass music as the instruments. Listen to the tone of their voices and hear the plaintive melancholy that seeps into the bones and stays there, a part of the marrow, a part of the people who live in and love these mountains.

Scottish influence wasn’t all gloom and woe, for they brought their love of fun and dance with them, as well. Cool mountain evenings brought laughter and music as ancient as these old mountains, and the connection from Scottish Mountain to Western North Carolina Mountain cannot be mistaken when the ear is tuned to the past intersecting with the present.

From the sideboards of American homes, Bluegrass music entered living rooms live from the Grand Old Opry from the musical stylings of Bill Monroe, Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs, Chubby Wise, and Cedric Rainwater. Live performances are something we radio listeners do not get much of now with the onslaught of recorded music, and yet, without the recording of music, how much of the old mountain music would reach the ears of a population who will never sit on a front porch and stomp a foot in time to soulful renditions mourned out as if from the pricking of skin to let the music bleed away, deep red and thrumming, dripping down into the mountain earth where up springs a unique, rich, and varied mountain life and its song.

Now you all know I always say for us to support our writers, musicians, artists!

So, here's a few places to check out bluegrass, or variations of it, and feel free to add your own in the comments if you like:

The Get Down Boys

Steep Canyon Rangers (this is the Western North Carolina bluegrass band that actor/writer/musician Steve Martin joined up with)

The String Dusters

Robert Frost's Banjo

My brother's "california bluegrass - Saga of Virginia Kate" (and again, as I've said - I do not receive compensation for this! It goes to the musician, of course!)

(photos all taken by kat magendie)

Random Photos, Five-Minute Fiction Guest Judge

2011-06-27T13:31:00.000-04:00

view from porch - evening

Lake Junaluska walk about

GMR made grilled pizza -ummmmm

misty lake j

Hi Y'all! Tomorrow I will be a guest judge on Five Minute Fiction. It sounds like lots of fun. Stop on by if you like and join in or vote on the stories or read or whatever you wish! I've told Leah I'll be happy to offer one of my books (Tender Graces or Sweetie) to the winner. I know it's going to be difficult choosing and that's the part that makes me go "lawd!" But, luckily I can pick more than one and then readers get to choose the winner - so that's good! *whew* :-D

See you all Wednesday with a regular blog post. Have a wonderful day.

Random Thoughts on a Wednesday afternoon . . .

2011-06-22T15:00:00.006-04:00

While running/skipping on the treadmill, there are days I am not feeling the energy, but if I keep going, soon I’ll hit my stride and next thing I know it’s near time to hop off the treadmill--done. If I’d have stopped when the going was hard, or when I wasn’t feeling into it, I’d not have completed my workout. Sometimes we have to push through things. If after the pushing through we’re still having problems, then we should respect that. I try to be honest with myself: am I physically/mentally unable today, or am I feeling lazy/uninspired?

In my yoga, there is a balance pose that I’ve been doing for quite some time. I stand on one leg while the other leg is bent and that foot is pressed into the standing leg on the upper thigh. I then raise up my arms to the sky. This morning, before I raised up my arms, I took a little time to adjust my body and found that it settled into place, my spine and body aligned--it felt right. When I raised my arms, my balance was sure and easy. I thought of the times I rushed through the pose and even though I could often keep my balance, I was a bit unstable and stiff. That moment of knowing I had my body right where it should be gave me an “aha!” moment—that all along I’d been doing it half-ass. Full-ass feels much better. I think I'll try to do more things full-ass instead of half-ass.

In edits, I read through my manuscript over and over and over and over and over, and I find the little darlings are easier to kill. I ‘see’ the parts that aren’t working as well, or are boring/draggy to me, or just don’t need to be there. What happens is, I read the words so often, the parts that do not need to be there beg to be deleted. But, the parts that work, the parts that make the novel fun or a joy or interesting or page turning, etc., they never lose their ability to move me or make me laugh or to keep reading. Reading the manuscript over and over takes the shine off the darlings so I can delete them, and the parts that continue to shine no matter how many times I read I know I can leave there. I am learning to trust this process now that I see how it works for me.

I’ve learned to have more humility. Even when I thought I had humility, I see times when I did not. Things I was so adamant about I’ve had to look at in a different way, because there is nothing like having the shoe on another foot, walking a mile in someone’s shoes, putting your footprints in another’s prints—and all those other foot/feet/shoe/boot/flip flop clichés. It’s easy to point a finger or criticize or feel above something when you are on your high horse, but dang if the fall doesn’t bruise (or worse) when that horse can’t quite make a hurdle, or stumbles, or decided to stop suddenly, or rears up, or turns around and bites you on the ass, or the horse is just exhausted and needs a break, or it's not your horse at all but someone else's, or you need to go help someone else because they've fallen or maybe they need a lift up, or a ride.

Here’s the thing: we all just do the best we can do and we do the right thing when we know better. And if someone out there isn’t doing the right thing, or doing better when they know better, well, their cover will eventually be blown and next you know they are standing in front of a microphone whining about how “sorry sorry oh I’m so so--o-o-o-o-rrrry” they are—by the way, if you have to carefully read from a speech how sorry you are, then I don’t exactly think it’s coming from your heart, but that’s just me. If you have to be caught at it and told it is wrong when you know all along it is wrong and you are pretending it is not because you haven't been caught, then the apology is a little empty, as is the cries of "Let me fix this so I can have my life/job/everything I want because it should be mine back." But those are thoughts for another day :-D

Now, I’m going to gallop away, and not on my high horse, but instead on VK’s Fionadala.

I'm really down to some wires, so I'm offline more than on. Last minute PETEY stuff, Rose & Thorn Journal summer issue out soon. Trying to complete edits for VK III. Lawd!

Soon I should have a cover image of Firefly Dance anthology (where my PETEY novella is to be published) - but I will leave this image of the anthology that just came out - such a beautiful cover. Information on this anthology "Women's SpacesWomen's Places" is here; Celia Miles. I receive no compensation for the anthology sales, so don't want you to think I"m "advertising it" - but I am honored to be included in it (a creative non fiction essay I wrote about my kayaking experience) and hope it does well for the editors, etc, and recognition to the other writers/poets. If you like a variety of poetry, essays/creative non fiction/short stories, then here you go! Support these writers/poets/editors and get your copy!

What are your random thoughts? Have a great weekend!

(all photos taken by Kat Magendie, except the one of where I'm hiding my face and the book cover--two of them taken from the window of an airplane)

Just Photos, No Words Needed . . .

2011-06-20T07:36:00.001-04:00

(all photos by kat magendie)

Me, the future You: R E S P E C T! Your life

2011-06-15T07:54:00.001-04:00

The furthest thing from a young woman’s mind is that time far off into the future when she will be fifty(+) and menopausal. Who has time to think about such things when your baby is crying, your toddler is reaching for a sharp object, and your eight-year-old just threw up all the pizza, cake, and, I’m not kidding—sushi (sushi?)—he had at a birthday party where the parents spent more to please Bobby or Suzy than what you spend on two-weeks worth of groceries? Or when she’s heading out the door to work, tossing down a piece of toast and a hot cup of coffee. Or whatever it is this young woman is doing to Live Her Life and do what she must do because so much of our lives is spent doing “what we must do.” (And I’m not leaving out the guys here, you can take out “menopausal” and add your own lists and dos and etcs here just as well!)

However, what I wish a big sister had told me in my teens, twenties, and thirties is this: how you treat yourself and how you ask to be treated by those around you will forever affect the person you will become—Me, the Future You. Who are you—I mean, the real you, not the Mommy You or the Wife You or the Worker You or the Partner You, but the Woman You, the one you must face in the mirror from now until, well, until you can no longer look into a mirror. For one day in your future you will look into that mirror and see the woman you have become from the experiences you have now. As your big sister, I want to tell you to care for yourself. To expect more of yourself, yes, but to expect more from others as well. That Respect should be a part of your daily diet—both taken in and given out—physical and mental/emotional respect.

When is the last time you patted yourself on the back for a life well-done? Have you been perfect? I bet not. Has every day been a gloriously sunshine-filled day of joy and happiness? Probably not. Have you lost your temper, been in a foul mood, screamed at your kids/partner/husband/coworkers/boss/employees/parents?, stomped around as if you were the two-year old? Maybe. But if this didn’t happen at least some time in your life, I’d wonder what you were trying to prove, or hide from yourself and others. We’re all human, and we all need to give ourselves a little break now and then to consider just how hard it is to raise a family, work to make a living, be married, be single, be independent, be dependent, caretake, be caretaken, etc etc etc, in other words: Life. Since you will one day be me and then beyond, I give you permission to love yourself, one day, one choice at a time.

And if you are already at the Me stage, it’s not too late to take everything I wrote and apply it liberally. Never too late to make a change, or go for that goal, or let go of one, etc etc etc, yup, in other words: Life ain’t over after 50, 60, 70, 80, beyond. I promise. We can make every excuse in the book—and they are all written down, believe me, in one fashion or another, nothing new under the moon—but ultimately this is our only life and how we decide to live it and how we decide to treat ourselves and others will determine how satisfied and at peace we are, how much respect we gain and give out. And when we fall on our ass, well, get up, brush the dirt off, and go on, who cares if someone saw you fall on your ass? You can betcha they’ve fallen on theirs but only you weren’t around to see it!

And remember, friends and family aren't perfect either . . . they fall on their asses regularly too! But we can help them up just as they can help us up.

here is the only perfection:

Now go do the day!

PS - This is the LAST day of the Summer Sunshine Deals at Amazon (that page takes you to where TG happens at this moment -and that can change and does -to be No 1 on a list-which as I said below, if you put in enough criteria, you just may end up No 1 on a list *laugh*). After today, Tender Graces, and the other 600ish titles will revert to their regular prices. Thank you for your support! I guess we'll see where all this leads. I have also found I am terrible at "self promo" - I suck at it - I become so uncomfortable talking about these things that have to do with "buying my books" - ungh ungh! But, happy to pass on savings, yes, that's always a good thing!

Three Videos: Mountain Storm, Whale Back Rock, Nekkid Reading

2011-06-13T07:31:00.000-04:00

Mountain Storm taken from my porch

Whale Back Rock short (I'm going to do a reading there this summer, maybe nekkid *teeheehee*) Whale Back Rock, if you don't know, is taken from my SWEETIE novel.

Recorded before I re-achieved my (almost) "Michelle Obama Arms"of course haw! :-D

And in general:

I've also been here at Amy Nathan's blog: women's fiction writers: no heroes. no zombies. no high heels. well, maybe high heels. Stop by and check out her blog.

and will be here later for Diana Estrella's Micro-Ficion Muse (lawd!)

See you all on Wednesday with my regular Wednesday posting. Wednesday happens to be the last day of the Sunshine Deals on Amazon - TENDER GRACES is $2.99 until then, then it reverts to its regular pricing. I like passing on the savings, however, who wants some author hollering about her book -y'all know I am funny about that - see y'all later and have a good great day! :-D

Oh, the wild and wacky world of Amazon rankings, ratings roller coaster ride

2011-06-08T14:24:00.004-04:00

First off, a big Thank You to my readers/friends—you are the reason I have this job, this wonderful life, the reason I keep writing, for what would I do without all of you?

Y’all may have read here how I never look at my rankings/ratings on Amazon. But when the Amazon Sunshine Deals promo (this is the promo I talked about below—where Tender Graces is sale priced at $2.99 instead of $9.99- Dang!) rolled around on the 2nd, and the next day someone sent me a link to my ranking on a “bestseller list;" That was fast, I thought, and it piqued my curiosity.

I did some clicking around Amazon lists. It was rather interesting, but mostly confusing. According to what criteria I searched under, Tender Graces was at: No 34, No 7, No 105, No 203, and in one place I couldn’t find TG so it must have been somewhere way off in oblivion-- haw haw! Then, much to my surprise, while searching for TG, I stumbled across Sweetie, not even aware that Sweetie would be on a “bestseller list” since it's not on the promo. Huhn. La Tee Dah! *Don't Look Gift Horse In Mouth* :-D

I was also curious about rankings—according to Amazon: "The Amazon sales rank is a number that says how many other titles sold more than your titles. The smaller the Amazon Sales Rank number, the better the sales.” So, I peeked at Tender Graces’s ranking, and at that point in that day in that hour (for it changes willy nilly up and down hourly) I was 950 in Kindle reader ebooks, 6,500 in trade paperback, and—this is really funny—some million number in large print *laughing* dang-large print TG's just do not sell! lawd! Those numbers change and change again, up and down up and down up and down. It boggles the mind. Which is why I stay away from it! So if you peek, don't tell me where I am now, unless I've suddenly become a Kindle Millionaire and then you can tell me *LAUGHING*! :-D

Isn’t it all a weird scattered numbers thing where luck and timing have much to do with where you are? It's a quickly morphing entity. I am not saying talent isn't a factor, for if a book has no merit, eventually it will fall under its own weight of mediocrity or plain old badness. And hard work never hurt anyone - you have to produce your product!
Just as You Tube videos can go viral, so can books—which explains the Kindle Millionaires—somehow they find readers, then more readers, shoot up to bestsellers status lists, and find ever more readers, and then things begin to ‘snowball’ and next you know—MILLIONAIRE! Wow. Dang!

Whatever Amazon has planned in its weird monstrous brain with its Sunshine Deals promo, and however it is affecting brick and mortar stores, or The Big 6, and pricing, I do not know, and I find I’m having a hard time worrying about that (for they certainly aren’t worried about little ole me, are they?) when I’m just doing the best I can. With Amazon placing me in a cool position on their summer deals promo page, my book can become visible to readers who may not have heard of little old Kathryn Magendie, and as well attention is brought to my wonderful small press BelleBooks/Bell Bridge books—who by the way have several books on Big Top Spots in Amazon through these deals right now—GO BBs!

The quest to Do and Have More can be never-ending if you don’t find a way to ground yourself. You'll make yourself sick and heartsick unless you find a way to accept whatever comes your way and realize/recognize that wherever you are in this journey, luck, timing, hard work, and talent go hand in hand—and gratitude for what you do have and what successes you find along the way--big or very small--can keep you grounded and healthy and happy.

As interesting as my looking into rankings and lists were this week, I find what works for me is to stay away from them, and instead to focus my time and energy on writing my books. How people react to the Me I place on the page is mostly out of my control. Where I end up is mostly out of my control.

So to come full circle in this post, I want to say: Thank You All. I appreciate you—whether you are five people or fifty-five people or fifty-thousand people, you are the reason I write. My novels are love letters to you all. You think I am giving you something, when all along it is You who are giving me the greatest gift of all: You and your time, and yes, even your hard-earned money. You are investing in me, and I will always give you the very best I can.

Love, Kathryn *muwah!* Have a great weekend!

(PS- I'm over at "Women Fiction Writer's - the wonderful Amy Nathan interviewed me and of course I'm all over the place chaotic, but I did my best *laugh* - she has a wonderful blog full of gooey good stuff and I am honored to be her guest!)