Last I wrote, I was working on a three book series that always seemed a bit out of my grasp. I have not given up on it at all, but I have laid it down for a while to work on a first person urban fantasy that has my imagination humming. I have high hopes of having a first draft finished by February, especially since I think I have found the key to my antagonist. It’s amazing how finding one little piece of information can unlock a treasure chest of motivations and scenes.
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I am hoping I’ll have more to share soon.

But fate had other plans for me. Last week, I was hit by what felt like a thunderbolt of inspiration. I was sick, my three-year-old was sick, and we were hanging out. I decided to try and write a “story” with my little one. Starting with ABCs was sort of a natural. The next thing I knew, I was writing an A to Z for Halloween in verse. The next day, I started illustrating it. A week later, my first book, “All Hallow’s ABC” is available for sale at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and (soon) Kobo and Google. I published it under Jenni Kaye so it wouldn’t be confused with the darker work I’ve been writing for adults.

One should viagra brand online check stock always consult the doctor before doing it. It is essential to understand how your business is performing so that you can identify the dysfunctional fundacionvision.org.pa on line viagra areas and apply better strategies that can convert them into highly productive ones. You can purchase online prescriptions without having to disclose any information to the pharmacist when you buy Kamagra from the drug generic viagra prices fundacionvision.org.pa store. On time delivery cheap cialis fundacionvision.org.pa of the medicines is same. I’m still in a bit of shock that I wrote, illustrated and made epub and mobi versions of a book in a week. Especially a kids book. I never thought of myself as someone who could do such a thing. Yet, now I feel myself inspired to write and illustrate yet another one. My kid likes this new writing of mommy’s. Something she can share and participate in with me.

I don’t know how successful this venture will be, but I can say that for now, I had a blast creating it. And the biggest reward has been having my daughter and my niece ask for it to be read over again when we get to the end.

Are you one of those readers? If you are, send me an email through my contact form with the words “I want to get Lost in the Light!” and give one of these hauntingly good e-books a home on your device.

Here’s a little more about the novel:

No one remembers…

Dori and Vicente’s unlikely friendship takes us back to the waning days of Prohibition in San Diego and the dusty barrio of National City. Mary Castillo’s new novel, featuring the wild Orihuela family that first delighted readers in Names I Call My Sister, weaves romance, history and a mystery into a humorous, touching and unforgettable story.

OK. You know what you must do. I know there are enough readers out there to make my dream of giving away books a reality…. Send me an email through my contact form with the words “I want to get Lost in the Light!” Give a ghostly good e-book a home.

Then, that spring, Mary asked me to star in a short film she wrote about a killer ghost. Between sharing our love of old movies and lying on her kitchen floor in a puddle of chocolate syrup (it looks like blood on video — really!), we bonded. It’s been more than 20 years and not a week goes by that we don’t say hello to one another.

I am so proud of my friend today as she embarks on self-publishing her fourth full novel — Lost in the Light. I was happy at the launch of her first three full length books — pubbed by HarperCollins — but it’s this book, a historical ghost story years in the making, that makes me beam with happiness. Disclaimer: I was one of the book’s editors, however I receive no monetary compensation from it.

Because I believe in her, I’m willing to put my $$ where my heart is. The first 10 people to contact me through my form with the words “I want to get Lost in the Light!” will receive a free e-book copy of the book, courtesy of me. My only request is that if you like the book, you tell others about it. Spread the love.

In Mary’s own words, here’s a description of Lost in the Light:

No one remembers…
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One October morning in 1932, Vicente Sorolla entered the white house on the hill and was never seen again .

Dori and Vicente’s unlikely friendship takes us back to the waning days of Prohibition in San Diego and the dusty barrio of National City. Mary Castillo’s new novel, featuring the wild Orihuela family that first delighted readers in Names I Call My Sister, weaves romance, history and a mystery into a humorous, touching and unforgettable story.

REMEMBER, the first 10 people to send me an email through my contact form with the words “I want to get Lost in the Light!” will receive a free e-book copy of the book. What are you waiting for?

It’s not that the book isn’t going well, or that it won’t be finished (hopefully) late this summer, it’s just that things keep happening that force my schedule, with its padded time for editing and formatting, to get tighter and tighter. The most recent thing is being laid up this week with what’s probably a grade 3 sprain of the ankle. I see the orthopedist on Monday, but meanwhile there’s pain and drugs. No fun at all. There are some family things too that I don’t feel like discussing here. Suffice it to say, my writing schedule has been shot to heck.

The deadline is a funny thing. Because I’m self publishing, the company waiting for the book to be finished is, essentially, me. Even so, I’ve hated giving myself an extension. It’s bad business, and I have a business plan that this goes against. It pushes deadlines on the four other stories in the series and makes characters have to wait. And I don’t know about you, but my characters HATE waiting.
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Plus, the writing is going well — when it happens. The story is gelling, it feels clearer and crisper than ever before. Frankly, in some ways it sings. Yet I still have to give myself an extension because of life. C’est la vie.

So, for the few of you who have counted the days until the book will be available, I apologize. It will be a little while longer. But the important thing is, it will be.

Then I saw the first trailer for Brave and my heart sank like a stone in a deep, deep Scottish river. There, on the screen, was a red-haired girl rebelling against her mother’s notions of decorum in order to do what she wants to do, which seems to be act like her father. Among the main plot points is the thought that she doesn’t want to get married, which is what her family expects of her as a young lady.

What’s wrong with this, you ask…. How is this different than any other Disney Princess story? Disney is the parent company of Pixar. What’s so wrong with this picture?

Okay (deep breath), here it is. Why is it that every story Pixar has done with a male protagonist has been about friendship (Toy Story), learning to let go as a parent (Finding Nemo), discovering that there is more to life than the road you’re on (Cars), or discovering that your prejudices might be keeping you from something wonderful (Monsters Inc.), but Brave seems to be (surface-wise) about how hard it is to be a woman in a man’s world?
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Really!? Freaking really!? Where’s the Pixar film where the sensitive young boy loves daisies and baking? Okay, there’s Ratatouille, but that wasn’t the company’s first foray into a male protagonist. And it’s not really about how hard it is to be a man who cooks — the world of chefs is male dominated — it’s about how hard it is to follow your dreams.

Point is Pixar makes a film with a female protagonist and instead of giving us an adventure, pure and simple (say a female cat whose big ambition is to sing at the New Orleans Jazz Festival or a female inventor who’s trying to make an invention that truly works, while the other inventions come to life), they give us a film about a girl who wants to rebel against the strictures of being a girl in her time. While there’s nothing wrong with that story, what does it say about our society that THAT’s the story that has to be told for the first feminine Pixar film? Not a story about a character who also is a woman/girl, but a story that is because the character is a girl.

Oh, Pixar. Why couldn’t you have been truly brave and done something in which the protagonist being female was less the story than just a fact of life? I’m so disappointed in you.

This week, it’s another cold, complete with snotty mucus and my child saying “Mommy, my nose,” over and over. The girl is sick, the husband is sick, I’m sick. Again.

A month or so ago, I was at the park and saw a friend. She said “Gosh, it seems like you guys have been sick a lot!”

“Zoe started preschool in September.”

She thought for a moment, then said, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. The first 18 months my kid was in preschool, my husband and I looked at each other and said ‘what’s wrong with us!’ We were sick all the time.”

“Us too.”

“It gets better,” she said. “Now he’s in kindergarten and he’s never sick.”

Oh, how I long for those days to get here. Meanwhile, we’re singing the preschool sick kid blues:

Da dum dum dum dum, My kid’s got a cold
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Da dum dum dum dum, This streak’s got to end
Da dum dum dum dum, Germs are not our friend
Da dum dum dum dum, Well, I beg your pardon
Da dum dum dum dum, what do you mean it’s better now than in kindergarten!
We’ve got the preschool, the preschool sick kid blues
I’m told it ends someday, boy I’d like to get that news.

Sigh.

P.S. If you’re wondering about the photo of Venice — It’s the bluest photo I could find. And it seems like we keep seeing the shore during this wave of illness, but we never quite get there.

March was a month of struggling to recover. Then at the top of April, we had guests and then it was Tax Time! Followed by “I’d Better Finish Editing My Best Friend’s Manuscript Before She Disowns Me” Time. Now I’m on “Visiting My Mom at a Nursing Home in Florida” Time. But next week, by golly next week, I’ll be back in the saddle, working on my manuscript again, and it will be “My Writing is My Job” Time (otherwise known as Me Time… or as Me Time as it ever gets when you’re the busy mother of a 3-year-old whose responsible for everything in the household).

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So, I was gone. I’m coming back. I’d say “please discuss,” but I don’t have that many commenters. So, instead, I’ll say “Glad to be back.”

The two-year-old and I just look at her, the child in puzzlement and me with growing anger. For it’s not my daughter who’s being spoken to like this in the intimate apparel section of Macys. No, this baby talk is being directed towards my 76-year-old, wheelchair-bound mother, who tries to mouth “Thank you” graciously while this stranger chatters at her in a loud voice as if she is both deaf and a moron.

My mother is neither. She has amazing hearing and a mind still sharp enough to whip my butt at Scrabble, if only she had the energy these days. My mother is also skeletal, unable to control her motorized wheelchair with enough accuracy for me to let her loose in a store, and lacks the breath and control over her lips to be able to verbalize in a way that most people understand.

It’s a sorry state she’s in, but that doesn’t give strangers the right to assume she’s less than she is. After all, as I learned as a journalist, “assume and you make an ass out of u and me.”

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I get that the woman in the store was trying on some level to be kind to my mom, to brighten her day in some manner. At least she didn’t do what the Irish nun visiting Florida did last December. She talked to me about Mom as if she was not sitting right there. I extricated us as soon as I could.

Oh, that the “kindness” didn’t feel so much like being stabbed by pins. Doesn’t hurt that much, but get pricked enough times and you start to bleed. If it feels like this to me, what must it feel like to Mom?

Making assumptions about people by how they look, even based on our past experiences, robs us of opportunities for genuine interaction. How much richer my mother’s life would be if people didn’t assume her mentality based on her disabilities.