My most feminist collection is today’s book cover, of COURSE.

I’m not the world’s fastest thinker. I tend to marinate, sleep on things, let my subconscious do the work. And it’s rarely wrong. It’s when I ignore it, or tell it, “It won’t be like that. It’ll be FINE” that shit goes sideways.

So now, with new clarity, I put Mother’s Day 2025 behind me and move on to better things, and better places. Hopefully there will be no more shitstorm holiday celebrations in my future.

Like this weekend’s book signing at Blythe Books, the first of three in the area between now and the end of the month! The other two are the Butler City Farmer’s Market on Saturday the 24th, and the Greensburg Night Market on the 29th. Please don’t let printing costs rise until after that because I’ll be placing an order to restock. I may be featuring Permission to Enter here today, but I only have one print copy left until that restock… we’ll see when it sells.

editing

I’m going to finish this edit either today or tomorrow, depending on how today goes.
I still have room for new clients, even though my next edit has arrived! Whee, and thanks for trusting me with your works in progress.

writing

I set a weekend word count goal of hitting 6500 in this new version of Absolutely Alyssa, and I overachieved by a few hundred words. It helped that I went and hung on Saturday with my friends at Umber Chocolates during a pop-up event they were doing, and I got almost a thousand words down in between our chatting.

I KNOW. 6500 is nothing, especially when you consider it’s a little bit under 10% of what I’d cut last weekend. But I cut even more new stuff, and so to be standing where I am at this point in time feels good. Plus I’m having fun and the manuscript has that energy I feel when what I’m working on is right.

Book of the Day

Tofu Takes Time, by Helen H Wu and Julie Jarema, illustrator
(As always, it’s an affiliate link)

That’s it. May you not have any shitstorm holiday events, and if yesterday was one for you, too, well, you’re not alone and I wish for you the mental clarity that hit me at three this morning. Better days lie ahead. They have to.

If you’re feeling sorry for me this morning, or just simply appreciate me, my ko-fi is always open for donations. Be sure to pick up the Beta Reader’s Guide and the Writer’s Guide to Library Events — pick your price includes FREE.

Mother’s Day – Twitter Chats Blog Tour

Welcome to the Twitter Chats Blog Tour, organized by Mariana N. Blaser at mariblaser’s randomities and Anne Tyler Lord at Don’t Fence Me In. Today’s theme is Mother’s Day.

You’ll be traveling with us through the blogs of some of the fantastic authors and writers who participate in our weekly — funny, entertaining and educating — Twitter chats. This tour will feature writers from #writechat, #litchat, and #fridayflash.

You will be directed to your next stop at the end of this post. Please feel welcome here, and have a happy Mother’s Day!

(I’m supposed to insert a separation here, but damned if I know how to)
.

Sonya held the precious bundle more securely and bowed her head over it. Her boy. She and Patterson had made a boy at last.

Even though Patterson had Beth playing baseball in their back yard, she knew he privately hoped for a boy he could play with. Patterson was good with their two girls and they adored their daddy, but Sonya believed it was true: every man pined for a son. Sons didn’t grow their hair long. They didn’t wear earrings. They played baseball, not softball. In the Voss family, boys were as American as hot dogs, apple pie, and the Fourth of July.

Sonya smiled, remembering the Christmas just past. The two grandmothers had stood in Sonya’s kitchen and stared at her swelling baby, debating. Boy or girl?

Everyone had agreed: it was a boy in there, a boy who would eventually come out of Sonya and drag half her innards along with him. Or so it felt. It hadn’t mattered once she’d laid eyes on him, of course, the doctors working frantically above her. The baby was perfect. Boy or girl; all that mattered had been the perfection.

It was later, during these quiet times, when Sonya could reflect on how important it had been to her, too, to have a boy. Especially after this little one had made sure the family was complete. It was as if he’d said he was special enough, there could be nothing to follow him. It didn’t matter that his parents had wanted four children. No one would follow Mitchell into the world.

He scrunched his face, yawned, cracked his eyes, and smacked his lips. The perfect baby.

Sonya’s heart melted as her son started rooting, hungry again.

Three children had never seemed more perfect.

.
(I’m supposed to insert another separation, but I’m still damned if I know how to.)

Thanks for stopping by! Your next stop for the Mother’s Day Twitter Chats Blog Tour is Tony Noland of Landless.

The complete list of participants can be found at the host’s blogs: Mariana N. Blaser and Anne Tyler Lord.