Newsletter August-September 2026

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids,

It’s Newsletter Time! I know it’s your favorite. Who doesn’t love reading about some weird-ass author who ironically pretends that this is something people care about. Let’s get started shall we?

GARDEN UPDATE:

Shit is drying out. It’s hot. The tomatoes have put a little too much effort into foliage and less into fruit so I’ve done some pruning. The rain we had last week was welcome and I hope there’s more. Also–why have we suddenly started calling this “monsoon season” in Colorado. Monsoons are not the same weather phenomenon. Are we also seeing King Cobras on the dry-ass hiking trails? No. Language matters. Don’t be misleading or sensationalist. Anyway, here’s some evidence of me not killing a few things.

I’ve always just loved the leaves on nasturtium and the blossoms are edible

Of course the only squash producing is fu*king zucchini. The bane of my existence. If a bag mysteriously ends up on your doorstep, as Shaggy says, it wasn’t me.

I ate this one after washing it with the garden hose. Because good microbes, and things.

Soon, I will have more tomatoes than I think I’ll be able to responsibly eat. So, please feel free to come by and pick some over the fence. The goddamn bunnies and squirrels have eaten a lot of my flowers (nipping the buds off the echinacea is an interesting choice, I guess they’re warding off the flu).

But the coolest news by far is that over the course of a month, I’ve managed to befriend two crows. It’s slow going and consistency is the key but this morning I heard one calling (their names are Merry and Pippin of course) and when I opened the door she was on the front steps, waiting. So we sat and I had coffee and she had nuts and Ritz crackers and it was a lovely time. One step closer to being an old bog woman living completely off grid and giving my remaining days over to the forest.

OTHER STUFF:

School is starting this week for my youngest and next week for the oldest. I don’t know why the end of this summer feels so much sadder. I think they are both trying some new stuff and there’s a little hint of anxiety in the air that is hitting different. If you know about my youngest, you know last year was a struggle. Eating disorders are nasty, and terrible, and if you’re the kind of person who posts skinny-culture shit on your social media, I kinda wish you’d go to hell. The biggest lie society ever sold us was that being smaller, weaker, and skinny was attractive and that being attractive to men is all we are good for. Anyway, beyond my soapbox, my kiddo is taking on a new semester with a full class-load and lunches on her own and that might not mean much to most people but to us, it’s a big deal. Send your good thoughts, your prayers if you pray, your hopes that she remembers to love herself and her beautiful body more than the pressures of skinny culture in a white-affluent-entitled school.

The oldest is having the normal issues of if they’ve picked the ‘right’ field/major/concentration, and what if they’re wrong. I told them life is 90% about being wrong. You don’t learn anything when you’re right. Weird that the world puts so much pressure on them to know exactly what they’ll do and it better be lucrative. Fuck capitalism by the way. They had a breakdown about living at home. And how that made them a failure. I reminded them, that in my college days, an apartment cost me $450 a month, I had a paid internship, and college was 1/3 the cost that it is today. They’re not failing anything. Society is failing them. Man…sorry I could go on about things that aren’t really relevant to my writing life, but these are things that are important to me, and probably to a lot of us. Our economy sucks. Really rich people are to blame. Anarchy and revolution are justified for survival. Let’s move on.

Writing and Editing:

Heir to Time came out! It always feels particularly satisfying to be done with an entire series. Usually I feel a little bittersweet, but this beast was different. I’m glad it exists. I’m glad I wrote it. I still love the characters. But I’m also glad I can move on.

I’m in my final round of edits for “Eight Nights in Everpine Valley” my anti-Hallmark Holiday novel about a Jewish Carpenter living in a Christmas town, who falls into cahoots with a Feminist Studies professor. It’s ridiculously a middle finger to the schmaltz of the holiday frenzy, but despite that, it’s also really heart forward and sweet. There’s a cranky aunt, a has-been cheerleader, shenanigans, and a little spice. I hope you like it as much as I do. I felt like myself again getting to write it. The tentative release date is September 28th? I’ll let you know for sure if you check out my socials.

My edits for “FaeSpawn” (mythology-based, contemporary fantasy, set in the Ornkey Islands north of Scotland and south of Scandinavia) were interrupted for the proofreading for the holiday novel, (you might recall last month they were delayed for Heir–always the book in pipeline, never the book) but I have made it through one whole round and I’m killing my darlings in this next one. Listen…there’s a little bit of “why choose” and a little bit of “fated mates” and a main Woman Lead who is tough as shit and has lived a hard life. But she’s also a Fae with a little secret that will save (or ruin) the fate of the world. Plus–Y’ALL, I’ve never written a red-headed male lead and I’m having SOOO much fun with it.

Here are some teaser pictures from my Pinterest Board

I’m in the process of transcribing all of the poetry I’ve written over the last few years for an anthology out next year (possibly from a publisher). My lovely friend Nina texts me almost every week to check in. She’s the most lovely, beautiful soul and if you don’t have a Nina in your life, get one. So far I’m up to over 50 pages of work. With about 60 more poems to get into the file. Then the editing starts.

Reading:

I’ve started “The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin”, by Alison Goodman. The first was such a fantastic romp, with adventure, humor, and romance. Plus to get to read something, albeit fictional, about women in their forties destroying abusive systems that hurt and imprison women is pretty satisfying. It’s great so far. Please check her out. It’s great writing.

I finished “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. It was a fun and light read with still some interesting thoughts on society as a whole.

I’ve been thumbing through, pausing, and sighing a lot over Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Because he always has something to say that ripples out through time.

I finished a middle book of a series that I picked up at The Lioness Lane Bookery in Riverton over my stay in Wyoming. Called “The Headmaster: Lessons from the Rack” by Tara Sue Me. It was a light/semi-dramatic book about the world of BDSM and Dominate/Submissive play. She is a New York Times Best Seller, and I’m not saying the book wasn’t good, but… something felt flat about it. I’m super interested in the world and the dynamics and psychology. She did well at writing the intimate scenes, but I just never connected or cared much for the characters. So I picked up this:

because I want to write something that’s not just the naughty shock value selling it, but the dynamic of power structures, the deep seated trust and love that needs to be part of the process. I feel like, as a character writer, I could bring something deeper than 50 shades or The Rack academy into play. Something that feels like a heartfelt exploration of what it means to submit and what it means to dominate.

Events

Eight Nights in Everpine Valley is nearing completion. This book should be out at the end of September. I’ll keep you posted on the details as I have them. I do know there might be a book signing of the available 5 Prince Publishing Holiday novels at the Tree-Lighting ceremony in downtown Fort Collins. It could happen.

WRITING HEIGHTS WRITERS RETREAT

Mid September I’ll be up in Winter Park cooking for, and hopefully inspiring a group of determined writers to spend three days working solely on their projects and getting those word counts in. There are still three spots left and to be honest, this is the cheapest retreat I’ve found out there. So, please, think about signing up. They are good people, it’s a time just for you, to invest in yourself and your writing, there are no pesky ice-breakers or critiques (unless you want them). It’s just time. The only commodity you’re not getting any more of. Here’s the link. I’d love to see you there:

WHWA FALL RETREAT

Closing:

I was told this week by a male acquaintance that they didn’t know how I put out novels as quickly as I did. The source of the question sort of made me second guess the intention and wonder if it had something to do with quantity over quality. Then came the imposter syndrome and the questioning if it’s all just fluff. I get it, I don’t have an MFA and I’m not making any major lists. But then I sat down to really think about my process. Most of the books coming out for my publisher were books I started and nearly finished writing over the last 15 years.

I didn’t just start them in one year and bang out twelve. They were all shaky seedlings I’d planted years before and had shaped and trimmed and worried over for years. Some do get written fast, like the holiday novel. But that’s because I am passionate about writing, and I’m passionate about my characters, writing feeds me–it breathes inside my lungs and gives me life when the rest of this fucked up world is falling apart around me. And a deadline will do a girl wonders. And despite whatever else is happening in my life, I will make the time. In fifteen minute increments throughout the day, or up-til-midnight sprints. When my characters talk, I listen and take notes. That’s how it’s done.

So instead of taking the bait of I write dime-a-dozen books, I realized that I have a fire inside of me, and not everyone has the skill or drive to write like I do. Along with that, there is an acknowledging that I won’t be around forever. I know I’ll die, probably sooner than I should. I’m not so much upset about my own demise as I am all of these characters and stories dying with me. I feel it’s important to also note that it was a man who asked the question. And my first thought was to respond, well, if you want something done, give it to a mom (aka the world’s busiest human), because we won’t hem or haw, we don’t have time to pussy-foot or stall. We don’t have time to fuck around. Other shit needs done. So if you’re gonna write you don’t get the luxury of waiting for a muse, or the right ‘vibe’, or an idea you think is ‘worthy’ of the New York Times Bestseller list. You just write. I just write. Some authors are faster than me, some are slower. But the process and the love invested is the same. It’s always, everything.

Take care of each other, take care of yourself, love.

How Life Is…

Posted on by sereichert

No one is harder on me than me. And so, when I realized that I’d missed not one, but TWO blog posts in a row, I was at first righteously disappointed in myself. After all, I’ve been doing this blog for a long time. Every week, on Thursday, a little something about life, writing, or just to enrich the world (via poetry). But if you read this blog, you know that my life has been on the rocks for the last 8 weeks or so (before that really on our way leading up to inpatient) and so the disappointment quickly faded.

You see, I’ve learned to treat myself with the same grace I would extend to those whom I love. And it’s a kindness I’ve been looking for my whole life.

Like it or not, my blog is not the miracle of physics that keeps the world spinning ’round. There aren’t lives dependent upon my poetry or massive crowds hanging on my every word. When it comes down to it, the blog is a lot about me shouting out into the void, to remember that I still have a voice to use. That it occasionally resonates with someone else is wonderful. That it exists helps me feel purposeful. And so to hit and miss it a few times while my daughter and I are staying far from home and undergoing treatment for one of the deadliest mental illnesses that exists, is a drop in the bucket of my existence. I’m doing other things.

Fun fact I learned in one of the classes we take here as parents; the stress of parenting child suffering from an eating disorder is THREE TIMES the stress of parenting a child with schizophrenia.

I believe it. I feel it. The constant worry and triggering of what they eat, if they’re eating, if they’re eating enough, if they’re getting up to exercise in the middle of the night while you’re passed out from exhaustion from being “on duty” all of the time. If they’re only pretending to get better and it will reemerge as soon as you get home. If they will relapse later. If this will be the thing that takes their life, if not now, then sometime down the road. There’s no magical medicine to help soothe the savage beast of an eating disorder, and the only thing that truly is their medicine (food) is the one thing they fear most to take. It is physical and mental. And the mental leads to worsening physical, and so the cycle goes.

When I remember the characteristics of this villain we’re currently fighting, my blog post doesn’t feel quite so important. But it kind of is too. Because in the midst of this battle, I realized, I’ve become nothing but the General. Nothing but one-woman army, constantly fighting. Not a writer, not a wife, not a sister, not a friend, not a community organizer, or a poet. Not a human. Just the facilitator of a hard-to-come-by cure. And it has worn me thin. Too thin. So thin that the dark thoughts I’d shelved for the last few months are beginning to seep through the cracks in this armor that has already taken too many blows. And the thoughts that seep in…

Well…they aren’t life sustaining, I’ll tell you that much.

So today, I’m making a conscious effort to sit down and write. To do more than research and fret, and meal plan. To remember that attending to the foundation of who I am matters, to the house that still needs to stand in this storm.

I’ve watched a lot of events and occasions pass by in the last two months, as an outsider. From holidays, to birthdays, to fun events and friend gatherings. Even the release of two of my own books. And I could not be a part, fully, of any of them. But we are coming back into the light, and with every day she grows stronger, I need to also commit to coming out of the dark too. It wouldn’t do much good to help her survive only to loose my own will to in the process.

So I’ll keep writing. Keep shouting into the void. And I’m thankful for you, bearing with me while I come back to myself.

I’ll see you next week.

Whatever You Have to Give

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids. Today’s blog won’t be long or detailed. For the last three months, I’ve been engaged in trying to support and treat my youngest’s eating disorder on my own. Taking her to multiple appointments a week, doctors and therapists and dietitians. Monitoring every meal with her, coercing and begging her to eat. Lab work, consults, admissions to programs that turned out to be abusive…

I’m in the middle of it.

On Tuesday we admitted her to a better program. But it requires that I be here, in Denver, with her. Monitoring a few meals, learning better techniques, taking her in at 7 and not leaving the facility again until 7. They are long, hard days, filled with meetings and often a lot of tears over grilled cheese sandwiches. We’re lucky to have a space at the Ronald McDonald Charity house and it’s honestly been the biggest blessing. It isn’t home but they provide a safe place to be in the times we’re not in treatment.

This blog is just a reminder…that even on our hardest days and maybe especially on them, I want you, as a writer or poet, to remember the comfort and the break that your craft can be. Even a sentence a day counts. One stanza. A paragraph, a dialogue. Hell, a journal entry (man…I’ve never journaled so much in my life) can work wonders. These things can switch the tracks in your brain for just a few moments, bring you out of the chaos, and into a world you can control, into something brighter. Or make space to hold all of the hard thoughts you can’t put out into the world in the moment.

So that’s it, that’s the blog. Write. A little. Everyday. Use a hospital napkin, or the edge of that overpacked therapy schedule…doesn’t matter. Just stay connected to who you are, and that there are stories still to tell.