Newsletter March-April 2026

Hello readers and writers,

Welcome to my monthly update about what’s going on, what’s not, and how I’m navigating the current horrors. Surprise! There are a lot more horrors than last month. I’m really not sure how this current administration continually jumps the fucking shark every week, but… I guess when you lack morals and have the full use of 342 million people’s taxes, you can do some righteously awful fuckery. So here’s a couple of pictures that helped me remember that the world isn’t all ugly and it will be a lot more beautiful when we’re all gone, (crosses fingers for an asteroid). But first, the only thing more constant than the sun rising, is that if you open a cookie package within a mile of her, River will know and demand her rightful percentage.

Random Shit:

In, non-writing related news, I spent a little time in my old stomping grounds. Not my home-home, and not somewhere I think I still could live, but San Diego has always been a little part of me. Particularly OB, PB, and some of the more quieter shores. I’m a mountain girl at heart, but if I had to pick a close second, it would be the ocean. Nothing calms me quite like that sound, and the way every wave keeps coming, even if just a little different than the last. I got a few words in (3000 or so) and worked on my editing. Discovered a few new artists at the Museum of Art in Balboa Park and slept in for a couple of days.

Now back to work.

Reading:

In reading news, I started “taking a look” at another book by one of my writer friends. (He swears he’s not a writer, not really. He also swears he’s not very good at it. To both points he’s miserably wrong). One day, he was just pondering the philosophical significance of theater, and theater life and decided to just sit down and bang out 34,000 words on the topic. Then asked me to take a look, like I wasn’t already fawning over the man’s talent about a book he’s currently shopping around. Friends, I try not to be angry at an author who just gets progressively better at his craft, and he didn’t start out nearly as badly as I did. I’m not angry, it’s brilliant. Comparing the life and worries of the stage to the philosophical questions and perspectives of life, is turning out to be a damn fine book and I hope he lets the rest of the world see it.

Still working on “How We Learn to Be Brave” by Mariann Edgar Budde. Still learning to be brave. Instead of overwhelmed. I’ve also started to dabble in “Night Vision: Seeing Ourselves Through Dark Moods” by Mariana Alessandri, because that seems really on point right about now.

I finished “Nettle and Bone” by T. Kingfisher, and it only made me want to read more by them. Also, I realized I need a genre book mixed in with all of the non-fic stuff (or not if I want to finish the non-fic stuff…hahahahah)

Writing and Editing:

I’m working through the second hard round of edits of “Heir to Time”, the last book in the Timekeeper series, after a miscommunication with my editor that made me worry it was so awful she’d trashed the whole thing and burned my contact info. Turns out, no. I still have to work on it. But it’s going better and we’re getting it cleaned up. There’s an unfortunate “surprise” in the first two books where I’ve mistyped the hero’s last name. I’m sure some readers have already noticed. I guess that’s how you know it was written by a human. This sucker won’t be out until May probably. But it will get done. If you liked “The Mummy” and Jane Austen, you’re gonna love this little book with a nod to sapphic romance and all the hours I spent obsessed over Egyptology in middle school.

I’m chugging away at 5 Prince Publishing’s first shared-town anthology due out in the 2026 holiday season. My little derelict of a Hallmark failure is currently sitting around 28,000 words so I’m on track to finish it on time with a few weeks of editing to spare. If you want to check out my idea board for shits and giggles, you can find it here: 8 Nights in Everpine

I had a poem accepted by Levitate, so I’m stoked about that and I was brutally rejected by two more small presses. (I say brutal, but it was more like a toe-stub)

AWP (the Association of Writers and Writing Programs) was a thing. I learned some cool stuff and met some cool people. I also met some jerks, such is the way of life. I took some cool classes on how to move your writing workshops out doors, how to use your art and your writing as protest and in defense of human rights, and how to more effectively use silence in poetry. I’m not sure if I’ll go back, but I did get some good info on some independent presses and made a few contacts with some like minded people. Next year its in Chicago. A town I love, but that was a lot of damn people and I’m not really interested in posturing. I’d rather just go for the museums, the architecture, and the food, and skip the hullabaloo. I did get to see Poe’s grave, so that part was pretty cool.

I’m super excited to be able to participate in the Fort Collins BookFest in April! Yay! This event is one of my favorite and if you’ve never been, you should go. There are several different readings, panels, book signings, and other fun literary events to satisfy the bibliophile in you. I’ll be on a panel for romance authors on April 11th. But you can find the full schedule here: FoCo Book Fest.

Finally, if you’re in the area tomorrow (Friday, March 20th) from 5-7pm, I’ll be at Grimm Brothers Brewery in Loveland, hosting a write in with some folks from WHWA. You don’t have to be a member to stop on by and work on your writing, poetry, or anything that needs a little focused time.

Well, that’s about all I have. I’m currently helping out the Wyoming Writers Inc, as a board member to put together a killer conference in Casper Wyoming in June, but I’ll put more out about that next month. I have to save some of what little news I have so it’s actually a ‘news’ letter and not just…a letter.

Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other.

Poetry 9-21-23

Hey kids. Just a quick note to remind you that my next, unrelated Vella The Three Hearts of Eve is up and available (first three are free) at Amazon. It’s a fun little romp into espionage, genetic experimentation, forced proximity and questions of ethics. Still, oddly light hearted.

Also, I’ll be in Wyoming the weekend of September 29th through October 1st to celebrate their annual Bookmarked Literary Festival. If you’re in the area, come check it out, lots of awesome writers looking to connect with new and equally amazing readers.

And now, enjoy some Verse:

The Heart is A Terrible Driver

I am the owner of a body in the trunk
the forgotten musty trunk
in recesses of my memory
muffled and tied up
speechless to the ways my heart fell

Hearts do what they do
and mine
she is so big
so eloquent a speaker
so deviously soft and swaying...

she convinced me that 
she was the only one 
who could drive the beast of me 
through life, and it would all
work out

while my brain 
sat in the back seat,
shaking her head and looking at me 
in the rearview mirror
mouthing the words

You know better
Your gonna hate yourself for letting her drive

Brain was right
Heart took us off a fucking cliff
the first chance she got
giggling with the thrill
the free fall of Love
drunk on its chemical cocktail

all the way down
Brain stayed silent, 
arms crossed over her chest
as if to say

nothing I tell you will matter anyway
We were already over your head
the minute you gave her the keys

the carnage at the base of the canyon
was ruinous
the destruction, 
complete
Heart took the hardest hit
split down the middle in two ragged
pieces of desiccated meat
devoid of reason, or rhythm 

Head pulled her from the car, drug her through
the sharp pebbles and burning metal
shook with disappointment and 
carried her to a lesser used path
and I followed complacently
my own wounds stinging

Brain barely spoke, 
in all of those tender months-turned-years
up from rock bottom
winding on trails
of drunken malestorms 
and pious sobriety
We are a heavy load

Heart sometimes regains consciousness
and clings to the brush, on the side of the trail
striking out with bloody, broken hands
against the pull
trying always trying to get back
to the wreckage
to somehow make it all work out
make that car and joyous ride
run again

Brain cuffs her, hard
Sometimes it's just easier to knock her out
and keep her from making any decisions
then to try and reason 
with her stitched up pieces

from here on out,
my heart must remain bound and gagged,
the body in the trunk

we won't survive another crash like that