About the holidays...

So I was thinking about the holidays last night. Mostly because I've caught some respiratory crud and I'm not getting the things I want to get done, done. I'm two days behind on baking, which has to be done so that cookies can be packed into boxes which must be shipped very soon. But who wants cookies I coughed on?? Also, I barely have the energy to walk to the kitchen, much less stand there and mix cookie dough.

So while I wallowed in my "how the hell am I going to get all this done and I was doing so good" thoughts, I started thinking of holidays past. And trust me, I can out Martha Stewart all the other Martha Stewart wannabes when I set my mind to it, and have in the past. The last two years have been less MS-y because we went to Florida one year (didn't even seem like Christmas to me) and last year I had bronchitis all month. But I was on track for full Martha Stewartdom this year and I was on track for an early finish. Next Saturday is a huge day for me and I can't tell you why yet, but I need to have all or most of my Christmas prep done before then so I can be stress free for the days following. Now, my sister and her family, my folks, and CJ will be with us on Christmas, but we're doing Mexican food for dinner because my sister hates traditional fare, and everyone loves Mexican! I can make the enchiladas up ahead of time and freeze them. And the other stuff is mostly crock pot magic, so the meal won't be a pain. I've got all my Christmas presents bought, paid, and accounted for and a week to wrap them. So as long as I get this baking  done this weekend and packages mailed on Monday, I'm still on schedule.

But the thing that struck me most in my memories is that while I always have a good time on the day of the holiday, visiting with family, munching some awesome food, watching my loved ones open their gifts, my very best memories are the day after the holiday.

I remember distinctly one Friday after Thanksgiving when the kids were probably 5th, 4th, and 3rd grade just hanging out. Eating hot turkey sandwiches (you know, with the mashed potatoes and gravy, and sandwich, and dressing), and watching some show on TLC about carnival sideshows. I remember another day after Christmas when it was just Mike, CJ, and I cleaning up the massive mess that is usually my living room following Christmas day and watching Law & Order: SUV reruns. It struck me that it's those laid back, day after, times that are the most memorable. When the stress is done and everyone is just enjoying the lull following in the wake of the storm. Those quiet times are hard to beat.

So while I wish you a whole happy holiday season, including an awesome Christmas day, I also wish you all a peaceful day or two after, a day to relax, breathe a sigh of relief, enjoy the "pulling off" of your Christmas feats, and a deep appreciation of the quiet times with those you love.

Happy Holidays,
♥Stacey

A little bit of everything....

What a week, month, year this has been. Not quite what I'd expected that's for sure. But it's not time for the yearly wrap up yet, so I'll just talk about this last few weeks. I thought November was going to be a "quiet" month. I actually had a plan for NaNoWriMo (which is probably where I went wrong, you know, planning). I wanted to write ten stories instead of a novel, roughly the same word count, but so that I'd have something to submit. Know how many stories I wrote? Zip. Nada. It was a failure of epic proportions. Although I did get one story edited and subbed and rejected. Once. And I got my novella finished, edited, and sent off to the publisher. So there's that.

We didn't get back from California until the 5th and then I took a day or two off to rest. The grandbabies were sick pretty much the whole time we were there so I wanted to make sure my body had time to adjust and not end up sick myself. Then we got heavily involved in a project I'm doing that has nothing to do with writing and cannot be explained at this time. Let's just suffice it to say it's huge and I'm super excited about it and will share as soon as I can. But it ate up like a whole week. Then we got CJ for a visit. And two days later Mike got sick and was hospitalized for six days. We've been home for less than a week and boom! the month is over. How does that even happen??

Good news, Mike is mending. Not as quickly as he'd like, but he's mending. And he doesn't have colon cancer, and he didn't end up septic (just really, really close). That's a lot to be thankful for. Sometimes I think The Universe gives us these little scares in order to remind us not to take things for granted.

Mo's pregnancy is going well. She's fifteen weeks along. We're all super excited for that 20 week sonogram so we can find out if it's a girl or a boy. I'm betting boy. She's going to have a houseful of rough and tumble hooligans.

Sean is doing well in North Carolina. Unfortunately he won't be making it home for Christmas. I had planned to drive out for Thanksgiving, but you know, The Universe intervened and all. I miss that boy like crazy.

And, I put up three previously published short stories on Amazon and Smashwords. All three had been published in different anthologies but the rights have since reverted to me, so I thought, why not? Maybe those of you who don't want to purchase a whole anthology of authors you don't know might like to purchase a story at a time. The fantastic covers were done by Rebecca Treadway of www.atrtink.com. I highly recommend her excellent cover art. She's the master behind the truly frightening Snow Globe cover. So here are the covers, click on any of them to be taken to Amazon. But if you have a Nook, or other reading app, they are also available on Smashwords.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving, and are going into the holiday season with the most joyous of moods. I, myself, am feeling unusually Christmas-y this year. And for a change, I'm almost done Christmas shopping.

 

Stayed tuned for some big news headed your way on the Angelic Knight Press front this week. But above all, be good to each other. 'Tis the season.

 



♥Stacey

This is not about writing...

I wanted to be up front about that just in case anyone wandered in looking for author type stuff. This blog is about being an amazing pioneer woman/catch, I mean, canning things. Yep. I can things. So far, mostly jam. But today is salsa day. Yum!

We have a huge area near us that is full of blackberry bushes and we picked tons and tons of blackberries over the month of July. Now, just in case you've never been blackberry picking, and have visions of wandering through a beautiful sunlit meadow with a wicker basket, let me break this down for you. Blackberry picking, while extremely rewarding, basically sucks. You have to put on long sleeves and pants, and I recommend rubber knee boots. Because blackberry bushes have thorns, large ones, that will scratch your skin. And our blackberry bushes grow wild, which means in a jungly tangle, amidst other weeds, and trees. Also, the grass is really tall and there are snakes (hence the rubber boots). Although I only saw one once which is awesome since I froze for a full fifteen minutes afterwards and then had to pep talk myself into continuing in that direction. And it's Illinois in July, so it's hot and humid and sweaty, especially since you are wearing all those damn clothes. And we get so far back in the patch that you can't see us, and we get tangled up in the vines, and bitten by mosquitos, and fight with spiders, anyway, it's not particularly fun. I think it's the sense of accomplishment that keeps us going. (And by "us" I mean myself and my daughter, Molly, when she's home, and my niece, Madi, when she's here; don't even think that Mike is picking berries.)

But as Molly, Madi, and I were discussing once while picking, we all evolved from tribes that basically hunted and gathered. And women were the gatherers. So being good at it, fearless in the face of the heat and (sort of) danger, fulfills some deep need in your evolutionary core. I told Molly that since she's a good gatherer, a good gardener, and births babies easily, she'd be quite a catch in her tribe.

So we picked many times over the month (once in the dusk and rain, talk about difficult and spooky), and gathered a shit ton of blackberries. The boys ate a lot of them. Who knew toddlers could pack away so much fruit? We made some cobblers, some blackberry shortcake, and then I decided to make jam. Now, I'd only made jam once before, in England when I was about 13, with an elderly neighbor lady. We made black currant jam and it was awful. So my knowledge of jam making and canning was almost nil. So I turned to the internet and by toggling between a few sites learned what I needed to know. Then I bought canning supplies. Hello, expensive. But since you only have to buy the pot and tools once, it's worth it. And then I made jam.

First you have to rinse, smash, and cook the berries. Then you spoon it into jars, leaving headspace, getting out air bubbles, putting on lids, and then bathing the jars in a hot water bath. And that's the part that worried me--what if they didn't seal right? What if I gave everyone botulism? But they did, and I didn't, and I heard the satisfying "ping" of lids sealing very clearly. So I made more. I ended up with three batches: Blackberry, Blackberry Cherry, and Blackberry Blueberry. It was delicious. So much so, that I went from this:
 

 

To this:

Way too quickly. I sent some home with my parents. I sent some home with my niece. I sent a jar to Sean. I gave a jar to the neighbors. And then Molly and Luke took 5 jars with them when they left. But, because I'm a nice person, I offered a jar to my mailman yesterday. And it went like this:

 

 

Mailman: (handing over three boxes of books) Here you go.

 

Me: Thanks so much for bringing them to the door.

 

Mailman: No problem.

 

Me: Would you like a jar of homemade jam?

 

Mailman: (Huge sigh) Thanks, but my wife makes jam. She made so much we're trying to get rid of it.

 

 

And he left. What?? But, but, you don't understand. I don't have much left so my offer was not me trying to get rid of it, but me being really generous. It's my first jam making. It needs to be celebrated!! Don't turn down my jam!! But he did. And then he walked back to his jeep. And I felt this odd sense of rejection. Although, if I think about it, he may think I'm slightly odd, and well, I wouldn't take jam from someone I thought was odd either. It's like taking candy from strangers.

 

So, in closing, I've thought a lot about the amazing feeling of accomplishment I got from making and canning homemade jam. Cooking always fills me with a sense of "rightness" and accomplishment. And I think it's because I grew up in a family (and extended family) where that's what women did. We do the cooking, and it's a way of showing love and taking care of your family. And I know that a lot of folks today will think that's old fashioned and silly, but frankly, I don't care. For me, fixing a meal and having everyone at the table will always be my happy place.

 

And learning the art of canning, which I know isn't that big of a deal considering women have been doing it for centuries, and with far less convenience than my modern kitchen, still filled me with a sense of wonder and an amazing satisfaction. And maybe it's because I joined those ranks: I can grow a garden, I can make food, and put it away for later use. I can make sure my family is fed from my own labor. I rock.

 

 

Also, I can make a mess:



And clean it up.

 

 

Today, I'm making and canning salsa with tomatoes and peppers from my garden. Because I can. And also because it's yummy.

 

 

What do you do that gives you that amazing feeling of pride? Seriously, I want to know!

 

 



♥Stacey

Stressed

So, remember last week's post about how I was going to start writing more, submitting more, and so forth? Why is it that every time I make a plan the Universe decides to throw me a curve ball? Not fair, Universe. Not fair.

I received my share of "whammies" these last two weeks and I feel like everything is all off course. I'm not ready to share some of the bombs that got dropped right now, and might never be, but suffice it to say the last two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. The last week of last month I was so shell shocked I spent several hours on the couch in my office watching bad reality TV (Teen Mom 3, anyone?), worse movies (Anna Karenina. Why, Kiera Knightley, why?), and eating chips and salsa (we were out of ice cream). I did get the normal shit done: cook supper, feed cats, laundry. But only because I do those things by rote. The brain was on automatic pilot. That is, until I decided wtf, me? You need to figure this stuff out and make some plans. Sitting on the couch watching other people's lives go down the drain is called wallowing. So I got off the couch and started to deal.

I thought I had things under control, but then Sean got sick and ended up in the hospital, further throwing a wrench in my plans. I got calls about CJ from his house. My mom had another neurology appointment. And another small bomb got tossed in. The result? I'm stressed to the breaking point. Seriously. There is not one aspect of my life that isn't at code red stress level right now. It's a good thing I'm one of those "glass half full" people or I'd be huddled in a small pool of my own tears.

So what it comes down to is this: I must ask anyone who is currently doing a project with AKP to be patient right now. They will get finished, they will get published, they will be awesome. It just might not all happen according to schedule. I have less than two weeks before I head to California for the birth of my second grandchild. In those two weeks I have things that, although I LOVE my job, have to come first. Those are time spent with Sean, who leaves for BASIC while I'm in California, and who has been in the hospital. A visit with my oldest son CJ because our last visit got cancelled and I miss him terribly. And also because I will miss his birthday. Another brief visit with my parents, because life is short. Packing and sending all the rest of Molly's baby stuff to her because she will need it. Stocking the house with groceries before I leave. Packing. Paying bills. Preparing to be gone for three weeks. And then flying to California to help my daughter the last week before her due date.

So yes, I am putting my family first. But if I didn't, I wouldn't be who I am. And if I wasn't who I am, you might not want to work with my anyway. But I will finish edits on the No Place Like Home anthology, and the YA novel, and the two fantastic novellas, and Fairly Wicked Tales anthology. You know why? Because next to my family, they are my passion. So a little patience is all I'm asking for. I'd do the same for you if the situation was reversed.

I figure things will get back to normal (or maybe a "new" normal) sometime around October. So stay tuned, friends. Good things are coming.

♥Stacey

Gifts from afar...

The lovely Vix Kirkpatrick, horror fan and Facebook friend extraordinaire, sent me a box a while back of scampi fries and English chocolates, things I'd mentioned I missed about England. And she did this just because she's a wonderful person, she wouldn't take anything in return. Well, the first box didn't arrive and didn't arrive, and after two months she decided to send me another one. As luck would have it, the first package showed up finally! And then the second package came as well! So lucky me, I was blessed with enough scampi fries to share with my sister. Although, I did tell her she had to be nice to me to get some.

Well, my family thinks I'm seriously odd in some of my eating habits and no one was on board to try them. And then we had this conversation the other evening. Mike, Sean, and Sean's friend Roaman were present at dinner that night.

Me: So will you try some scampi fries after dinner?

Sean: Why did this person you don't know send you food?

Me: I do know her, we've been Facebook friends for a long time.

Sean: That's not "knowing" someone. She could be a 70 year old man for all you know. Don't you watch Catfish??

Me: Where do you get this paranoia from? This mistrust of strangers?

Sean: Well, certainly not from you, Mrs. Gullible.

Me: She just sent me them because she's nice.

Sean: They could be laced with acid.

Me: They're in sealed packages.

Sean: And you think that would stop someone?

Roaman: They do sell home sealers now. They could've resealed them.

Me: You're not helping. *shrugs* But even if, what's the harm? We'd all just take a little trip.

Sean: How am I going to explain the drugs in my system to the Air Force?

Me: Well I'd vouch for you.

Roaman: Yeah, me and your mom would explain what happened.

Sean: Mmm. And you are two highly credible witnesses. Not.

Me: I own a company.

Sean: Right. And dropping acid would totally ruin your reputation, I mean, wait, you're a horror writer, it would not hurt your work.

Me: Well, there is that. I've never done acid, but I might right a fabulous book, the best horror novel ever, while tripping.

Sean: Except that you'd write it in some language you completely made up because you were high and no one would be able to understand it.

Me: You're such a glass half full person. Some people like books they can't understand.

Mike wisely stayed out of this whole conversation. Roaman did, in fact, try my chips and loved them and they were not laced with acid (I knew they wouldn't be.) Mike did kiss me afterwards though and said:

Mike: Oh man, those don't even smell good.

Me: They smell like shrimp scampi, because they are shrimp flavored snacks.

Mike: That's just so gross.

But they aren't, they are delicious. And I will be forever in Vix's debt. And I don't know how I raised such skeptical, paranoid children. Must be Mike's fault.

Thank you, Vix!!

♥Stacey

Travel funnies

So, I'm in the process of changing over my blogging to this one blog. I'm going to combine what used to be my family life blog, What Passes for Sane on a Crazy Day, over to this blog. There may or may not be a book coming about from the other blog, but mostly I'm just too busy to do both (as anyone who reads my sporadic blog posts can easily confirm). I also prefer to read author blogs that contain snippets of their lives, not just writing advice and news. Maybe it's because I'm a bit of a stalker, or maybe it's just more interesting. I like to know people I admire are just that--people. People a lot like me who are doing what they love while raising families and dealing with life. So, in the spirit of combining both, I give you the following post which would normally be on my other blog. Oh, and so as not to be confusing, I'll be using my children's real names this time.

During our rather long (3 day) car trip to California, Mo and I had this conversation:

Me: We have to stop listening to your iPod.

Mo: Why?

Me: *pointing to my lips, which are closed* What are my lips not doing?

Mo: Um...

Me: Singing. And if my lips are not singing, I'm not driving "happy." And trust me, you want me to be driving happy. I don't know most of these songs. Put in my CD. (I know, I'm old school like that, making CDs and all.)

Mo: *huge sigh* She puts in the CD and the first song is "Feel this Moment" by Pitbull featuring Christina Aguilera. If you don't know the song, you can find it here.

Me: This is my jam.

Mo: *laughing* 'Cause you're from the Dirty?

Me: No. Partially because it references Fifty Shades of Grey and even though I hate that book and all it's horrid grammar, any song that references what could loosely be termed "literature" in an intelligent manner is cool. But also because it's about living in the moment. That's what the chorus is talking about.

Mo: Is it?

Me: Don't you listen to the words?

Mo: I can't understand them.

Me: *singing rather loudly* Someday when the night is glowing, I'll be in my castle golden. But until the gates are open, I just want to feel this moment.

Mo: *and because she never believes a word I say, she Googles the lyrics* It's "Someday when the light is glowing."

Me: Oh, my bad. One freakin letter.

Mo: So it's your "YOLO" song?

Me: Yep. You know I was all about Yolo-ing before it was an acronym.

Mo: So she's talking about YOLO-ing before she dies.

Me: Um ... Mo ... you kind of have to YOLO before you die. It really doesn't work the other way around.

Some days I wonder about her...



♥Stacey

The writing life

I'm going to warn you that this post may not make a whole lot of sense. My brain appears to be slightly scrambled today and I'm not sure why. True, I haven't slept so well for a couple of nights and I'm really in a time crunch on a couple of projects but um, wow. I'm kind of sucking it up today. Anyway...

"I've finally discovered why my house is haunted!" I said as I walked into the kitchen this morning where Sean was making Mo, Luke, me and himself fried egg sandwiches for breakfast. My kids knew, of course, that I wasn't talking about my actual house, which (darn the luck) isn't haunted (although the garage may be and that's why I don't park in there), but about the story I'm working on.

"So why is it so evil?" Mo asked.

"Because in medieval times it that land was used as an execution spot."

"Oh that's good!" Mo said. "How did you come up with that?"

"I'm sort of loosely (very loosely) basing it off of a real area in England. I had to find a map of England this morning and try to figure out exactly what distance a horse drawn carriage could have travelled in eight hours. Then I went down the direction I said they were heading and found a town. Then I read about its history and there it was. Kind of. Actually the execution spot is on another hill near the town but since the story is fiction and I made up a name for my town and all...I just wanted to get an idea of the general area and geography."

I'm lucky. The kids get involved in my writing. Mo reads each days work and corrects typos and things like that. Sean listens as I read it aloud and picks out errors. Mo has read the story a couple of times and I've read the whole thing through like 20 or so, but I read it to Sean once and he points out that at the beginning I said there were seven in the group and then introduced eight characters. How did I miss that? And that's why EVERYONE needs a good editor or at least a good proofreader.

Sean is also always willing to play the "what if" game with me and help me brainstorm out plot points. Sometimes when I'm stuck, all it takes is that little bit of discussion to spark the writing again. So as much as they distract me and take me away from the computer, I don't know what I'd do without them.