Making the Most Out of Your Retreat

Posted on by sereichert

Hey writer and fellow creative friends. Wherever you are on your artistic journey, I hope you’ve considered the benefits of joining or participating in a retreat. Now, retreats can range from the ridiculously expensive, to renting a room at the shady looking motel three miles away. Some have classes or workshops, some have yoga or hiking mixed in, some are just straight up writing time.The point is to get out of your normal space, away from your normal routine, and spend that time focusing on your work. So whether you’ve broken the bank to jet set off to the French Riviera or you’re on your way to a twin room at the Motel 6, these tips can help you get the most out of that time. I even put it in a nifty little bullet list.

  • Be Prepared (Mentally):
    • One of the best tips I have, is to make yourself a list, before you go, detailing what you want to do, or get out of the retreat. Are you hoping to network and make connections? Are you aiming for a certain word count, or project completion? List out the major goals, then leave space (I’ll tell you why later on)
    • Be realistic but also a shade optimistic. Know your average, everyday word count and think about doubling or tripling it. You’ll have more time and less outward distractions and setting that goal will keep you on track. By making it a little challenging you’ll push yourself just enough. Even if you don’t hit the goal, you will get farther than if you’d been too ‘reasonable’.
    • Bring multiple or at least a couple different things to work on. The hours can become tedious and you might want to switch it up to stay fresh and motivated.
    • As a mom, and working mom, a strange thing happens the first few hours of being alone at a retreat. I get this thing I call “care-giver paralysis”. In the absence of doing for others, I can’t remember what to do with just myself. Understanding that this feeling will come, and I’ll have some listlessness helps me to remember to ease into the weekend with some journaling, or shorter projects.
  • Be Prepared (Physically):
    • The practical side of things is that you’re going to be away from home. But not on a typical vacation. So remember to bring your goal list, paper, pens, notebooks, journals, your laptop and charger…the basic tools of your trade. Make them your favorites or the one’s you’ve been ‘saving’ for something special. This is something special.
    • Plan for the environment: If you’re poolside or in the mountains, bring the proper clothing and footwear. You won’t be holed up in your room the whole time (I’ll explain more on that later). If there are dinners or classes, if it could be cold, or hot, try to think in layers. If its just writing, pack lots of comfortable clothing. Sunblock, hats and mittens. Bear spray or Mosquito spray?
    • Sleep aids- especially if sharing a room. I’m talking about eye covers, ear plugs, and headphones (not a rubber mallet if your roommate snores). Anything you need to get a good night’s rest.
    • Any special dietary needs/wants that the place won’t be able to provide.
    • Water bottle, medication, and bathroom necessities. Nothing is worse than being dehydrated and/or not having a toothbrush. Big and little comforts will make a huge difference.
    • Business cards. Holy shit, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve forgotten this one. Even if you’re just there to write, exchanging info with your fellow retreat members is great. You’ll be surprised how much you learn from one another in that time.
    • Tech that you need, none that you don’t. You’ll need brain breaks, you’ll probably want to check in with family once or twice, you may need a laptop. You probably don’t need your gaming system, and be careful of your social apps. This is a time for connecting with yourself and your art, not the 7 billion people of the world.
  • Be Flexible:
    • You’re going to have a goal list. You’re probably going to stray from it. That’s alright
    • There may be days when the word count fizzles or the scene doesn’t play out like you want. That’s okay.
    • There may be a project you exceed expectations on, and another you barely touch. That’s alright.
    • You may accidentally sleep in, or need a nap, or get caught up in conversations. These are good things.
    • Retreats are a balance of getting your work done, and taking care of yourself, which leads me to…
  • Schedule in Self-Care:
    • Bring along comfort. Your favorite pillow, blanket, clothing, music. Whatever it is that helps you feel relaxed and at home.
    • Take naps. You’re little brain is going to be working extra hard. It’s going to be focusing for hours and working through the plot holes and dialogues you’ve been avoiding. Schedule in time for naps, early bed times, or meditation on your goal list.
    • Take advantage of the outdoors. (Unless your Motel 6 is in a shady part of the city–then try to grab a Lyft to a safer part) Go for a hike or walk every couple of hours. Sit outside stare off into the far away for awhile. Your eyes and brain will thank you. Also schedule in brain breaks on your list.
    • Bring any nutritional or necessary snacks. I need coffee in the morning. I need tea before bed. I need fresh fruit and veg. I like hydration mix and the occasional bourbon on ice (not together, that would be gross) I want my Little Debbie brownies and my twizzlers. These little joys will keep your spirits up in the middle of the tough work.
    • Exercise, Mediate, Drink lots of Water, and take warm showers. All good things and breaks away from the intensity.
    • Skimping on self care will make you less productive and more likely to burn out. Nobody wants a mushy brain half way through.
  • Assess and Recalibrate:
    • After its all over, if you’ve got a drive home, or a flight…take some time to reflect. What went well? What was a challenge? What did you wish you had? What did you bring that you could have left home?
    • How did your goal list go? Did you overshoot? Did you get distracted, and by what?
    • How do you feel physically and mentally and how can you make sure that the next retreat leaves you feeling accomplished without being overwhelmed.

Well, there you go. I’m open to hearing if you have any other advice in the comments below. I’ll be heading a retreat next week, so if you’ll be there, I hope we can make it a great experience. If you can’t be there, I’ll be hosting another one next spring with the Writing Heights Writers Association and I’ll let you know the details as they’re finalized. Until then, Happy Writing.

Poetry 8-27-2026

Posted on by sereichert

Sometimes, whilst one is going through the previous year’s poetry to put it all together, one finds something written by a kinder heart. I wrote this with a kinder heart. A heart that (erroneously, okay) started to open in the presence of gentleness. It’s a trip, knowing this feeling existed once, inside my chest. I guess that poetry is good for being the time capsule that reminds you, occasionally, that love was almost. I guess it is also, sometimes, good for reminding you that you were right to have put rocky ground between you and others.

Photo by Image Hunter on Pexels.com

Rocky Ground

the path to my heart

is unjustly perilous

even for me

the travesty of sharp drop offs

make it nearly impossible

to find to enter to heal

this hermit atop high summit

has banished herself there

a strong fortress

to defend against love

and all the ways it has

failed and fooled and lied to her

better the quiet solitude

and steep loneliness

better than to be drug down

the mountain ever again

I made the trail to my heart

impossible

but your steps are soft

respecting the land

the danger and beauty

of it,

just as it is

ever onward, every upward

to gently knock on

the spiked door

shrouded in thorns

and ask

I am still at home

am I here?

You’re here

want to come out?

the sunlight is beautiful

and I brought you

an apricot

to share

its only me

its only love

I exist,

I’m here,

even if you don’t

open the door

I’ll wait

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.

All That You Don’t Know

Posted on by sereichert

I was recently looking over the questions for a future podcast and there was one about what the best and worst parts about writing were. It gave me pause. Writing (and probably any creative endeavor to some extent) contains multitudes. The good, the bad, the pleasantly and not-so-pleasantly unexpected, the disheartening, the exciting, and even the monotonous. Becoming a writer, the process and journey of it, spans the entire field. But if I had advice to give to someone just starting out, what would I say the best and worst thing is?

It might be the same thing.

All that I didn’t know and still don’t know about writing. Even after nearly twenty novels, countless short stories, hundreds of poems and ten years worth of blog posts, I still don’t know how to write. Not really. There are so many arenas within the vast city of literary skill that I have yet to visit, let alone conquer. And just when I think I’ve got it down, that I’ve perfected a skill, or mastered a genre, something comes along to prove me wrong. Someone better shows up to hand me a big, steaming plate of hubris.

And that’s both exciting and enraging.

That there will always be something to learn, emboldens me to stay curious and interested. That through all my countless mistakes, knowing that I’m still not done making them is frustrating. Writing is, in some ways, an unhealthy, semi-psychotic relationship with a muse that is ever changing, and fickle as Tyche. How some times I can sit down at my desk and unexpectedly write the most beautiful heart-dropping poem, and the next day not be able to pull together a coherent blog post makes it hard to feel secure in my future as a writer.

And that’s beautiful too.

Not knowing how long you’ll have the drive, desire, and time to create makes every moment doing it a celebration of being human. That in the trenches of editing or rewriting it can feel like a nine-tailed flogging and yet we still persevere is a testament to our ability to grow through the muck of the seemingly impossible. Not knowing where I will go is both terrifying and exciting. Not knowing what I’ll write next is the same.

Ten years ago, if asked the same thing I would have said the best thing was the writing itself and the worst thing was a poor review. Today I would say the best part is the writing, and the worst part is writing something that could be my last project. Time has shifted my perspective from outsider’s viewpoints being the rusty sword to the heart, to the inability to write or know how to write what I want to as being the decimation of my creative soul.

I don’t really have a resolution here. But maybe having the knowledge that it’s important for me to travel the path of what I love in writing, and not try to attach the expectations of future projects to them. Maybe the worst thing, that I won’t know enough to write another book, is a good enough driving factor to keep me curious. To encourage me to branch out, to embrace being the perpetual idiot in exchange for constantly tripping after that distant, beautiful horizon.

Word(s) of the Month: Lacrimae Rerum

Posted on by sereichert

In a slight deviation from last month, I’m looking through a different book by Robin Devoe. “Dictionary of the Rare, Creative, and Beautiful” is a book with strange and beautiful words but also “cool-sounding names from history, poetry et alia“. There are some fascinating and funny examples in this book (take for example: Brandolini’s Law or the BS asymmetry principle which states that the amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than that needed to produce it. AKA every day of Trump Administration en toto.)

Today though, we’re going to talk about lacrimae rerum which at first sounded like some kind of yarn art that you do over and over… ha. hahahahahaa… See my past post on malapropisms if you have a hard time understanding what my weird little brain does. But no. This is not a rerun of macramé. This is something much sadder.

Lacrimae rerum is latin for: the inherent tragedy or sadness of human existence; literally: tears of things.

The inherent sadness of our existence. The undeniable knowledge that is taught to us by almost every world religion, and made concrete with every scientific revelation. We are impermanent. And most of the the little time we have in our conscious, physical existence is plagued with suffering. Not just physical suffering of a body that springs up in painful-bone growth ways, but also begins to decay and hurt as we age. Add to that the inevitable pain of wanting things and people (to stay the same, to have, to love, to pay attention to etc.) and not ever really having them. Suffering is caused by wanting, desiring, and never being able to have in perpetuity. Because there is also the universality of change. Everything will always change. So we can never really hold on to anything.

Along with that, there is a certain sadness in knowing our own mortality. While it can be a great driving force to experience and live our lives more fully, it can also leave us feeling regretful that we don’t have more time or perhaps have ‘squandered’ said time on ‘unworthy’ pursuits. It has yet to be proven or disproven whether any other animal on Earth has consciousness of it’s own death, and what that means in terms of its very existence being snuffed out. We do know that some animals practice rituals around death, and even grieve. But do they see in themselves, the ending of it all? Do they wonder if there’s something afterwards? What a horrible price to pay for such big and beautiful brains, am I right?

When we think of inherent anything, I feel like it’s short sighted to believe that there is only one inherent emotion. I have seen too many humans with inherent joy at their existence, to think that it’s all just sadness. Perhaps when the phrase was coined, it came about to explain the great tragedies of the time and of the stage. Perhaps it was to bring us all back down a notch and remember our sadness. Hey, you kids! Stop eating, drinking, and being merry! Have you forgotten tomorrow we die? Focus on worthy pursuits so your one wild life is not lived in vain! Or some such nonsensical mashup of ancient Greece and Mary Oliver.

But perhaps being aware (all this goddamn awareness) of our inherent sadness…our bone-deep tragedy of loss, of disappointment, of death, is the ocean we must build seawalls against in order to actually live. Don’t get me wrong, we all deserve a good ‘woe-is-me’ fainting on the couch moment. And I’m a huge proponent of painfully hard, cathartic crying once in a blue moon, but what if we can build a sturdy wall to stand on amidst it all. A rampart against the pounding waves, and ever rising and falling tides, to watch the swells from? If our hearts and brains (those stupid, beautiful, big brains) were meant to be awash in tragedy, then I believe we were also built to notice, accept, and eventually find beauty in the tears of all our things. We grieve because we love. We fight against losing, because we love. We miss, we pine, we ache, because we love. So maybe the great sadness of things is really our funny little human hearts constantly saying; ‘this is beautiful to feel this sadness. This is beautiful because it means I care. This hurt is beautiful because I would not and do not cry over what I do not care for. This is beautiful because a lifetime of loss comes from a lifetime of loving. Of being in love with the inherent act of living. Of knowing it is short. Of knowing we will lose. Of still wanting to love despite it all.

So…as you go about your day, and you find yourself down from some unavoidable loss, or tearing up over something tragic, and you start to think of the great lacrimal sea of sadness inside of you, I hope that you find the purpose in it all to still smile. Life is a beautiful, tragic, heartbreaking, enigmatic ride that no one prepares you for, and no one can tell you how to do properly. Except to love it. In all its joy. And especially in all its sadness.

Poetry July 23, 2026

Posted on by sereichert

I’m not sure what to say about these.

Both about two different people…two different souls. And I’m always in wonder at how my heart can hold so much, and how much it is constantly asked to let go of. And how defiantly (and dumbly) it doesn’t. I guess that’s why poetry exists, n’est-ce pas? To have a convenient shelf to set our hearts on when we can’t bear to walk around with their contents sloshing unevenly in our chests? Anyway. Here’s poetry.

tender ache

weren't you just
the subtle pine rising
from penitent footfalls
along quiet trails

weren't you just 
the romantic glide
of a train across forested peaks
the anticipation of journeys
towards something better

weren't you just
the late summer glow 
of sun kissed honey
dripping into the waiting cup
of succulent apricot flesh

weren't you just...

weren't you just

the hard turn left
that slammed 
my heart's momentum
into a concrete pylon

weren't you just 
the biting words
tearing away at 
delicate seams
of newly grown flesh

weren't you just 
the coldness 
of an unexpected glacier
cleaving through my underbelly
sinking me into the dark

weren't you just

weren't you just

the tender ache 
that would not heal
Photo by Yulia Ilina on Pexels.com
living respite

You would think,
that laughter among friends
would dull the incessant ache
of missing you

but somehow 
in any joy
I miss you more

daydreaming, apart from crowds,
that you sit across my table
eyes crinkling with the absurd
infectiousness of silly mirth
like bird wings in my heart
and shoulder shrugs of
isn't this life terrible?
beautifully terrible?
but when your eyes meet mine
it feels
 
only beautiful

knowing you exist
is like a breath added 
to the dying embers 
of hope

you're still the only thing that helps me sleep

I imagine you slide into bed beside me
curl warm length into my cold lonely
chin tucked into my neck, 
arms like blankets
hold me close
and push out the rest

I'm so glad to finally be here
you say

like the day was long without me

I'm so glad.
Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

Newsletter July-August 2026

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids,

It’s Newsletter Time! Hold on to your hats my friends. There’s actually some news in this one. First thing’s first…

Have you ever seen something so perfectly perfect?

In, non-writing related news, the garden is going smashingly. Our tomatoes are enjoying the heat and the squash have put on several flowers. My radishes are out of control. With any luck things will start producing enough for at least one of us to get a salad (we shall fight over it with tiny forks). Beyond that, I find the necessity of getting in to weed, or water extra in these ridiculously hot afternoons, helps to calm my mind and give me a break from the made up world of adulting. Any day you can dig in the dirt, is a good day. Any day you can pause to watch how busily bees utilize your catmint is a day you’re reminded that there really is no such thing as society…silly humans.

We’ve had to put up traps for these little assholes that seem to be everywhere. I think it’s probably a good lesson for how climate change is probably causing an imbalance of certain species over others, but I that would probably be a college course, not a newsletter post. However, if you want to geek out over invasive species, perhaps the lady/gent/non-binary Captain would prefer this: Popillia japonica. In any case, for any of my fellow gardeners out there, we’ve been having good luck with the traps and I’ve found no noticeable difference between the “flower blossom” or “Japanese Beetle Sex Pheromone *Party” (*party added by author) scents . They are equally attracted to ‘food’ and ‘sex’. Listen, I’m not judging, because…well me too.

Photo by Cup of Couple on Pexels.com

What else? I’m attending a CSU Transfer Student/Parent Orientation this week for my oldest, and gearing up to take my youngest to a Paleontology camp in Thermopolis, Wyoming ran by the Wyoming Dinosaur Center and Dig Sites. There’s a bit of a lull in between the two things, which leads me to the next section…

Writing and Editing:

I’m in my final proofreading round for “Heir to Time”!! Which means this little gem is soon to hit the bookstands (AUGUST 11th). I will have some cover reveals happening on Friday (tomorrow), so be sure to check those out. The Timekeeper series is now complete. Stay tuned and I’ll let you know how you can order a complete boxed set or any of the individual books, signed with some goodies.

I’m waiting to hear back for my next round of edits for my anti-Hallmark novel, but I’m sure that’ll get wrapped up in time. Pray for our poor editor.

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 Heir that came up, but I have made it about fifteen chapters in and it’s not as bad as I remembered. There are a few things to clear up. I don’t generally write fantasy or even urban fantasy so I’m trying to remind myself that world building has to be both consistent and clear…without being so expositionary that your reader falls asleep. Who knew writing could be so complex? I did. I knew that. And I do it anyway.

I’m toying with the idea of gathering up some of these beautiful and generative poems I’ve collected over the last year for a possible anthology out next year (possibly from a publisher). I just need an accountability partner I think. I think I’ll bother one of my good friends (I’m looking at you Nina (9-uh)) who also has a book of poetry probably waiting for her to put together. Another reason why writers need other writers.

I started, and am keeping very close to my chest, an interesting new story inspired by a good friend who has always supported me. And over a recent breakfast of runny eggs, and discussions of oddest-family-stories-ever, reignited my creative spark. I’m not going to say much about it (writers are often afraid of good ideas being startled away), except, again, writers need writers and I’m so thankful he’s in my life. Every girl needs a Charlie.

Reading:

I finished “The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies by Allison Goodman, and loved it so much that I ordered the sequel: “The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin”. 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 was pretty satisfying. Please check her out. It’s great writing.

I’ve also picked up “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. I read it before in middle-school and find that I’m enjoying it eve more now. Sometimes its good to get back to the classics. Especially if they’re smart, subversive, and absurd.

I’m also reading a couple of beta copies for friends. Both non-fiction. One from Ted Williams about the advent of the Alpine Rescue Team in the 70’s here in Colorado (check out “The Art of Rescue“). Basically middle and high schoolers, were partaking in high-stakes rescue missions before calling in CPS was a thing. It’s wild and so far, very good. I’m also reading a book soon to be released, from Michelle Ray, called “Lessons Unplanned”. Part travel memoir, part philosophical soul-search, I think it will appeal to so many readers. You can check out her Substack here: States of Matter.

Events and BOOK RELEASE

Heir to Time

It’s finally here!! The third and most soul-sucking (to write, not read I hope) novel in the Timekeeper Series will be released August 11th. I’ll be posting on my social where you can find and buy it. An exciting conclusion to the adventurous, romantic, time-traveling capers of Lillian Byrne. The third novel features a side sapphic romance, and brings back our beloved favorite couple (well they’re MY favorite couple) Richard and Thomas. It’s a bit “Mummy” and a bit “Indiana Jones” wrapped in pretty, romantic comedy paper. There are exciting chases, escapes, curses, and a bit of magic thrown in. If you want to know where time-travel came from, this is the capstone book that will tie the series all together again.

I do not have any book signing dates yet, but I’ll post them soon.

July Class with “The Pause” on The Feminine Divine

In July, I’ll be teaching a class for The Pause, a cool writing group devoted to mid-life women. The class will center on exploring the power of the Feminine Divine and the innate knowledge of body to explore expression. Its a topic I think about a lot, especially in a patriarchy where so much of what we ‘know’ is beaten down or ignored. And how so much of that knowledge would have actually saved the human race a heapful of grief, suffering and death. Anyway, we’ll be exploring how to tap into that, how to trust ourselves, and how to use what we know to help others. Here’s more about that organization: The Pause Writers

Fort Collins Comic Con

Ya’ll, I’m going again. This event is so well ran and I’ll be talking with my friends Rod Martinez and Heather Hein about writing. The joys, the failures, the gains and the loss. Not just that, but how we create in times of turmoil and why it’s important that we do. I hope we’ll have a good crowd and can answer any questions you might have. I believe our panel is on Saturday August the 15th. Register here! They have so many great vendor booths, authors and books, cosplay, panels, and other fun events.

Closing:

I’ve uncovered some deep rooted issues with self-promotion (see “she doesn’t have a book signing booked yet for a release less than a month away?” hint above) that I’m trying to deal with, which probably stems a lot from an overblown sense of self-doubt and/or deeply instilled rural-upbringing humility that very rarely allows me much pride in anything. Also, and maybe you’ve experienced this, the weird phenomena of “Yes I finished a book, now on to the next”, and ignoring or purposefully taking out the pause between. I suspect it has a lot to do with the discomfort of praise and the reminder from someplace deep in my “don’t get too big for your britches” brain, that I’m not so special and to keep working.

All of that aside, the marketing issue has also made me think a lot about what I want to accomplish as a writer and with my writing. I will say that I am proud of myself in that I held a really hard boundary that’s protected me and my little shoe-box heart, and in the process (and after a long and arduous hike), I’ve put into motion a long-term (but not too long) plan to rediscover and honor who I really am and what I really want. Sometimes its scary to sit down with yourself and be honest. Because often what you discover will affect not just you, but a lot of people around you. In seeking a balance that takes care of all hearts involved, I feel like I’ve got some solid footing on the journey ahead, and for once in a very long time, I have a little hope for my own future.

Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other.

Word of the Month: Ideopraxist

Posted on by sereichert

Hello gentle readers, writers, and aficionados of a strange and lovely vocabulary (much respect to my fellow sapiosexuals out there–that’s a word for a different blog I suppose), ahem…sorry, where was I? Ah, yes. Ideopraxist. Honestly, I just fanned through the pages and landed in the id-im page and I was torn between this lovely word and “imbrute”. Since this one came first, and it also carries a bit more positive connotations, I thought I’d run with it.

Ideopraxist: One who is impelled to action by an idea; one who works to bring an idea to fruition in reality. (from Dictionary of the Strange, Curious & Lovely, by Robin Devoe)

Listen, Merriam Webster didn’t have this listed, which made me have to dig a little bit for more information. The British dictionaries seem to agree to this definition, in that it is a person who is moved to bring an idea into action. It originated sometime in the 1830’s and was first used by Thomas Carlyle a Scottish essayist, philosopher, writer and mathematician (he apparently invented the Carlyle circle: I’m not going to bore you with the rabbit hole I fell into about circles and quadratic equations and some of his more fascists leanings? We’re gonna stray away from that and focus on the word).

To be impelled to action by an idea. To bring an idea to fruition in reality. A more perfect word for dreamers, creators, writers, and artists may not exist. But it is also a most tortuous word. For I’ve yet to meet a writer who didn’t struggle with how to bring their ideas into the world the same way they appear in our minds. I have yet to find a photographer, painter, actor who got the first shot, stroke, or line exactly right. We are both ideopraxists and idiots. (I don’t mean that really, I mean it through the lens of frustration with which our brains and abilities allow, or don’t, an accurate accounting of what we’re thinking and seeing inside of our minds.) As Steven King once said:

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out.”

We are in constant process of trying to bring ideas into the world. We are so driven by an idea that we are impassioned to act because of it. This a beautiful, and terrible, human concept. Driven by our ideas. Ideas that can be both, ingenious and amazing, and also terrible and hurtful. Like when someone has an idea to draft a Declaration of Independence. Or when someone else has an idea to start a needless war. Ideas are power. (In my case, ideas are mostly just half-assed sentences scribbled in the margins of the morning paper; “what if a lovable group of elderly mystery book club members used all of their knowledge of poisons to do something swift, and undetectable about the presidential cabinet?” *disclaimer to any CIA/FBI/Secret Service member reading this, I write fiction and really, even if I didn’t, would you be THAT mad?)

With all of the millions of ideas sprouting up out of each our billions of little heads, the world is a vibrant and deadly garden of thought. Luckily (or not) not every thought gets acted upon. Not every idea flourishes. Not every plan, goes to plan. So how do we know which ones to let go, like dandelion fluff in the wind (*see secret service guy, I’m harmless, and flighty, just waxing poetic about dandelions) and which to carefully plant, water, tend to, and birth (ew?) into creation?

I can’t tell you that (not because like my new bestie at the FBI, I’d have to kill you). But I think it is safe to say that when an idea hits, whether as a whisper, or a like the butt of a Glock 9mm to the temple (standard issue for the FBI) there is a knowing that threads out tendrils into the other parts of our brain. It feels like a tickle at first, you think of the idea, or read something that sparks it, and instead of it floating past, your little soggy, electrified, clump of raw bacon starts to form small connections. Starts to wonder, starts to contemplate…

…Where would these little old ladies meet? How could they possibly agree to this (How could they NOT)? How would they do it without being detected? Does the White House accept baked goods?…how do they get caught? Do they get caught? How can they get over the fence with bum hips?…

Pretty soon, other parts of the brain start to fire.

…Beatrice is five foot two but she was a gymnast in her younger days, she’s kept spry with Tai Chi and regular chiropractic visits. Loraine used to work as a cyber security analyst until AI took her job and forced her to retire early. Janice, who’s lost three fingers in combat doesn’t give a fuck anymore and she can make a mean Kentucky Bourbon Cake…

Suddenly you’re hearing them speak, conversations running through your head…scenes that play out like a movie, hilarious and heart warming. And frankly kind of scary in the cool way that makes you remember you can’t mess with grandma or you’ll get a wooden spoon to the back of the head. Long ways if she doesn’t like you.

Some ideas are silly and fantastical and are fun to write. Some ideas are scarier to think about (forming a peaceful protest against a combative government). But all of the ideas that settle into our brains and tug at our core values to do something, will help to drive us into action. Writing that next story, painting that next canvas, drafting that next bill to put before congress, or leading the next revolution…they’re all actions of bravery that are inevitable for each and every human who contains the spark of idea.

I wish you a creative week. I wish you forward action on something that drives you. I wish you safety and courage. I gotta go, there’s a knock at the door. It sounds official…

Poetry 6-25-2026

Posted on by sereichert

This was one of the poems that I wrote in April, during the Poetry Month Spree for Writing Heights. I produced a lot of interesting stuff that month (as one does) and I love that the space between writing the poem and going back through the deluge offers so much more reflection and perspective.

Anyway, here’s poetry.

Photo by David Bartus on Pexels.com
Mantra

I meditate, every day
growing comfortable 
with  the sound of my own ocean
ebbing and flowing
laid down
like sedimentary thought

all the things I know I should think
should say
the mantras
like so many layers of gauze
over open wounds

you're okay, you're okay, you're okay

breath in, breath out, hold

I am here, I am here, I am here,

as anchors to the ocean floor

I will not leave you
I promise my younger self
that blue-eyed child
her heart unbroken by others just yet

but I did leave me

to the wolves of heartless men
to the neglect of depressed parents
to the anxieties of her children

I left me to suffer, to be wounded,
to die
over and over again

like breathing in, breathing out

I whisper over my teeth

I love you

not knowing what it really means

I love all of you,

I try to fathom
the darkness my voice echoes back

especially the darkness...

heart beat
breathe in
hold
empty lungs
and pretend this is how
it feels to drown
especially in the darkness

love the darkness
especially the darkness

It will not leave you

it loves you

all of you

Newsletter June-July

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids,

It’s that extra special time of the month….no, not that one. The other thing… Where I tell you all of the fantastically boring things happening in my life, and see if there’s a chance you want to join in. Let’s not waste time, I know we’re all excited (she said with a sarcastic shrug).

In, non-writing related news, the bathroom is done y’all. It’s pretty nice. Though the tub is tiny, and the toilet seat fell off last night. It’s mostly functioning. Here’s a little gander:

What else? The xeriscaping is complete and we’ve got a few new garden beds planted. I’m not sure how much of it will survive, but I’m crossing my fingers and hopeful. The idea is that if we can grow a few things, we’ll have to buy a little less. My oldest has been reading “Braiding Sweetgrass” and so we have a whole box devoted to the three sisters. I’m excited to see how it all turns out. Also, some berry bushes and a poor decision of climbing grapes for the trellis. I don’t know shit about grapes. Especially in Colorado, but *shrugs, let’s giver a go.

Their names are Geoff and Gerald.

So…all in all…it is less chaos, and that’s something good for a change.

Reading:

In reading news, I’m still reading “Night Vision: Seeing Ourselves Through Dark Moods” by Mariana Alessandri, and enjoying it. I’ve finished Chuck Wendig’s “The Book of Accidents”. It was a wild ride and I keep having thoughts about doors and making ways into other dimensions. Check it out. I’m also finished with “Walking the Invisible: Following the Bronte’s Footsteps.” by Michael Stewart. It was such a lovely book, interweaving the historical record, with literary insights, tied to the land they lived and walked through. It also was charming in the way Stewart made the journey personal and whimsical. (Personal favorite was using “Steven Kinged” as a verb)

Next, I think I’ll be reading “The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies by Allison Goodman. You have to love a dedication that begins this way:

Writing and Editing:

I’ve picked out the cover for “Heir to Time” and the release date is set for August 11th! I’ll try to work up some fun cover reveals. My problem, I’ve realized is that by the time I get done promoting and managing Writing Heights, I have very little drive to promote my personal stuff. But… I’ll work on it because I’m really excited to get this series out in total. I’ll let you know about book signings that will be coming up.

I’ve finished my first round of edits from the publisher on the 5 Prince Publishing’s first shared-town anthology novella. My little derelict of a Hallmark failure is currently doing okay, with only some minor consistency checks to make and solidifying ideas of faith. If I can do that for Isaac Engel, you think I could do it for myself *shrugs again (my god she’s shruggy today). I’ll be offering a spicy, annexed chapter from Eight Nights in Everpine, on my Substack. Follow me for more details on that.

My mythology based, contemporary fantasy, set in the Ornkey Islands north of Scotland and south of Scandinavia is on the post-it board, and I’m trying to make sure I do a better job of writing the last as good as the first. If you like demons and fairies, Valkyries and björns, witches and merfolk… you’re gonna love this one. I already do.

some of the board was cut off to preserve surprises

In addition, I’m playing around with a little apocalyptic satire that sprung up whilst I was sitting in a green park near Leeds Beckett, thinking about the formidable knowledge of birds and the equally crippling idiocy of humans. I’m not sure it will go anywhere, but it sure is fun to write in a different genre and style. So far I have four main characters that are all a little neurotic in some way, and for some reason have been deemed worthy enough to be saved from certain disaster.

I’m keeping up with my submissions, but missed last week because I honestly just completely forgot to do it. Maybe two this week? Maybe I’ll give myself grace, who knows? *again shrugs

Events

Wyoming Writers Conference:

I survived it. I met a lot of great people. I had a weird, and kind of intense existential crisis. I bought some books. I sold a few (AND kudos to Wyoming because I sold more of my Male-Male romance there then I have anywhere else). I won first place for Adult Fiction (Short Story) and Flash Fiction, which was a pleasant surprise. I’m still on the board for next year, as it’s a two-year term. But now that I know how it goes, hopefully I’ll get through it a little smoother with less crying in my hotel room.

Quid Novi Presentation.

In June (30th at 5:30pm), I’ll be presenting for Quid Novi and Writing Heights on the best ways to utilize a writing community, how to find them, what to expect, and how to get the most out of them. We’ll discuss how they can help not just network as a little-known writer, but also give you valuable insights to every part of the process. It takes place in Loveland at the Forge (next to Grimm Brothers Brewery) and there will be authors there selling their books as well. You can register for that here. Quid Novi

July Class on The Feminine Divine:

In July, I’ll be teaching a class for The Pause, a cool writing group devoted to mid-life women. The class will center on exploring the power of the Feminine Divine and the innate knowledge of body to explore expression. Its a topic I think about a lot, especially in a patriarchy where so much of what we ‘know’ is beaten down or ignored. And how so much of that knowledge would have actually saved the human race a heapful of grief, suffering and death. Anyway, we’ll be exploring how to tap into that, how to trust ourselves, and how to use what we know to help others. Here’s more about that organization: The Pause Writers

Closing:

A lot of things have come up, washed over, and receded in my life this last month. I’ve had some wounds on my old heart reopened, and it revealed a lot about the darkness of loss I’d been burying under obligation and to-do lists. (Thus the nearly-self harm crisis) I’ve had to think about what’s good for me and what I do simply because I want to please others. It’s made me think of all the things I do out of obligation, but not out of joy or love. And that’s a hard place to find yourself. I feel like I’m carrying a lot of big questions on my shoulders lately, about where to go, how to proceed, and what I know I need to give up. How to do that. How to let go. How to not worry about the disappointments of others in the face of my own spiraling mental health. It’s a lot. It always has been. But I guess seeing it and acknowledging that something needs to be done is one step closer to cleaning out those wounds, yes? (*adds shrug here).

I hope you’re taking time off to rest and be beautifully bored this summer. I’ll try to find a couple of those moments myself.

Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other.