“They” say you need to post regularly on social media to keep your name/brand/books out in front of the public. Some social media sites have algorithms that punish a professional if they don’t post regularly. (Like, at least twice a day.) I normally schedule social media posts for an entire month just to ensure there’s something there for the algorithms to see. When I sat down to do February’s, I kept whining, “I don’t wanna!” to myself. For several days. They’re not yet done.

Then there’s the stress in my private life. (I talked about some of it in my last newsletter.) I spent a lovely weekend doing nothing but reading. Almost literally. I didn’t even turn on the news. (Local news was just going to be about all the snow in Saturday and Sunday, anyway.) I discovered how much calmer I was if I didn’t check social media every hour to see what was happening now, or if there was a comment I needed to respond to.

After this weekend, I decided to take the entire month of February off social media. Oh, I might pop in every now and again and even post a cat picture, but I’m not going to stress myself out feeling like I have to be active. Toward the end of the month, I’ll see how I feel then.

It’s probably going to tank my book sales but at this point, I don’t care. I may or may not go back to posting regularly. (Sorry, Matthew & Karen – the two who interact with my Riddle Me Monday on Facebook.) I’ll perhaps “see” you in March.

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One of my BFFs has had major health issues and been in and out of the hospital for several years. He went into the hospital again the first of July. This time, however, the results weren’t as good. I was in the ICU with his husband (my other BFF) on Monday when they took my friend off life support. He didn’t pass immediately so they transferred him to a hospice facility near the hospital. I spent a good portion of Tuesday and Wednesday there with my friends, driving nearly two hours one way each day. I had every intention of going back down on Thursday but…

Wednesday night, Yuri had his first seizure in over three years. After his first one, the vet wasn’t all that concerned, as long as they weren’t frequent. Thursday morning he came into bed for scritches. His eyes were focused and he was purring so I thought it was another isolated incident.

Three hours later, he had another seizure. It was time to take him to the doctor. Unfortunately, there are only two vets here in the boonies and they are always slammed. They had to work us in and it was nearly 4 p.m. by the time we saw a doctor. During that time, he had seven more seizures, each more violent than the last. That’s what they call “cluster seizures.”

Another drawback of living in the sticks: we do have an emergency vet but they are only open until midnight – when they’re open. They have staffing issues. The closest 24-hour vet is an hour and a half away. Yuri needed to be observed for twelve hours – and administered drugs, which I can’t do.

So, we drove Yuri to the other clinic. He spent a quiet night with them (drugs have that effect) while I tossed and turned.

My phone rang shortly after 5 a.m. Friday. My friend had passed.

A little over $2,000 later (yikes!) Yuri came home Friday afternoon and is now a drug addict. The treatment for feline epilepsy is phenobarbital and it must be administered every twelve hours. The emergency vet gave him his last dose at 3 a.m. Friday morning. Needless to say, I’m not thrilled about a middle-of-the-night dose! I spoke with his local vet who said I could gradually move the time so eventually, the morning dose will be at a more reasonable hour – like 9 a.m. I’ve been moving it a half hour every morning so after a little over a week, I’ll be able to sleep through the night.

He had four more seizures Friday and Saturday but each was shorter and less violent than the last. The vet told me there will be “breakthrough seizures” so not to worry unless they cluster again. He hasn’t had one in almost 48 hours, so the drugs are working. Because he’s taking a barbituate, he’s lethargic and walks like he’s drunk. Both are normal and once his body adjusts, those side effects will go away but geez, it’s hard to watch.

Unfortunately, the other three cats are not thrilled with how Yuri smells and is acting. Mischa has always been a bully toward Yuri but it’s now worse. Maks is wary but calm. Sev hisses every time they see each other but at least hisses and leaves. They need to be supervised. Yuri spends his nights in my bathroom (with food, water, and a litter box) so a) Mischa won’t wake me up with his grumpiness, and b) I can find Yuri when it’s time for his medicine. (It’s an oral suspension and chicken flavored so he doesn’t fight me on it – thank goodness!)

After a week of high stress and broken sleep, I’m a zombie. The next few weeks will only be marginally better as I support my friend after the death of his husband, and get Yuri (and the other cats) adjusted to his new normal.

I have social media posts scheduled on my business pages through the end of July. I don’t know if I’ll have the brain power to schedule anything for August. I also don’t know if I’ll get a newsletter out next week. I’m playing everything by ear.

Thanks for understanding.

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The Old Farmer’s Almanac regularly posts approximate first and last frost dates for various cities on their website. I just rolled my eyes looking at it – they have nothing even close to me. In addition, mountains have micro-climates. What happens at my house isn’t what happens even a mile downhill.

We’ve lived here almost twenty years and I’ve kept weather records the entire time. Just for grins, I went through and calculated our frost dates. You can see the difference:

First Frost

Calhoun, Georgia (closest latitude-wise)      October 29

Asheville, North Carolina (closest elevation-wise)    October 26

Our House    November 6

In 19 years, we’ve only had three October frosts (we moved in December so I’m not quite to 20 full years of records).

Last Frost

Calhoun, Georgia                          April 5

Asheville, North Carolina           April 13

Our House                                      April 4

I also have another thing to consider: the temperature sensor is on the front porch, where it’s shielded from the sun. The garden is about thirty feet downslope from that and more open to the elements, considering it sits on top of the septic drain field. So what happens on the house level isn’t necessarily quite what happens down in the garden. (Before you say anything, I tried having a sensor attached to one of the garden bed walls. Some critter – probably a deer – knocked it off and stepped on it in just two weeks’ time.)

As you can see, the weather at my house can be completely different than almost anywhere else. It can be tricky to figure out when to put plants to bed for the winter, and when to uncover everything in spring. To my credit, I’ve only guessed wrong one year.

Do you keep weather records for your house?

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As I get older (smacks gums), I find the need to simplify my life. I’ve been doing a lot of communing with spirit the last few weeks and have come to at least one conclusion: it’s time to stop selling my books directly.

To that end, I’ve reduced the price on every book in stock to a point I hope they’ll sell quickly. Some I’ll make a penny or two; some I’ll lose a penny or two. That said, I’m not offering free shipping. I don’t want to lose that much money! But even paying shipping, they’re still cheaper than retail!

SO! All prices are now rock-bottom. Click the links above to go to either the herb books or fiction books to see how low. I’ve noted the quantity in stock of each next to the price and will update it when something sells. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. Note: the books I have in stock for the Ogre’s Assistant Series are the old covers. I’ll update the website with new once I’ve depleted my stock – I don’t want to mislead anyone.

Also, if you know of any bookstores that ought to be carrying my books, you might want to mention this to them. In most cases, my prices are lower than what they’d pay wholesale.

Once everything’s gone, you’ll still be able to get an autograph from me. If you send me proof of purchase, I’ll happily pop a signed bookplate in the post to you – free of charge.

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Sometime in early December, I think, an author I follow on Instagram (and I wish I could remember who), posted an image of a ReMarkable tablet they’d bought. They were thrilled with it. The idea intrigued me so I looked at it.

My first reaction was a gulp at the cost. It’s not cheap! By the time I added their upgraded stylus (has an “eraser” at the top) and an “inexpensive” cover, the pricetag was almost $600. On the other hand, how much money and time had I wasted using paper and having to search through things? They have a 100-day return policy so I bit the bullet.

I’ve had it about three weeks, now, and here are my thoughts:

Pros:

1. I no longer need pen and paper next to my recliner (where I do a lot of thinking as well as reading and watching television). If I have a thought, I can grab the tablet, wake it up, select a document and scribble something. No need to transfer my idea from scratch paper to a notebook; and it’s a lot faster than opening my laptop, waking it up, opening a Word document or my “to-do” list, then typing something.
2. These same documents wirelessly sync to my laptop so I don’t need to haul a notebook around when I’m ready to do something with said scribbles. (I have it open in a separate screen right now so my thoughts on this tablet are immediately visible.) NB: The sync function is free for a year. After that, it’s $2.99 per month. Not so sure about that…
3. The “feel” is very close to pen-and-paper. The stylus doesn’t slip around the page, which is something I was concerned about.
4. The stylus is magnetic and snaps to the edge of the tablet. The magnet is strong enough it won’t easily fall off. At least, I haven’t yet just “brushed” it off.
5. It has a hellacious battery life. Granted, I don’t use it daily or for very long at a time, but 3 weeks in, it still has about 50% battery. That includes the couple of hours it took to transfer a bunch of notes on my current WIP over from a notebook.
6. I haven’t yet used these functions, but it does have the ability to work on Word documents and pdf files, as well as read epub books. You do need to drag-and-drop them to the tablet from wherever, though.
7. While I type when writing a book, I know a lot of folks actually write. The handwriting-to-text conversion would be very handy for them.
8. It comes with a bunch of different templates, from a plain sheet, to lined, to lists, to graphs.
9. It doesn’t access the internet, which means when you’re thinking (or writing, or sketching), there’s no temptation to “just check social media for a minute or two.”
10. I didn’t know until earlier this week that is has competition. I looked at its competitors and still think this is the best one for me. YMMV.

Cons:

1. I’m still getting used to the stylus. If you’re just writing, be sure to select the “ballpoint” or “mechanical pencil” option. Because it can also be used as a sketchbook, the “pencil” option will give you either really fat, smudgy lines, or your writing will be almost imperceptible, regardless of which thickness you select. (Thank goodness for the eraser function!) I do wish the stylus was a little fatter, or had a fatter option. It’s as skinny as a #2 pencil, which is hard on arthritic hands after a while.
2. While it does a good job of handwriting recognition, if you’re making a list, use the list template. Otherwise, it doesn’t recognize line breaks when converting handwriting to text. (After I’d written out all the characters in the current series, I tested the text conversion. It was a mess!) Also, and really no fault here, while it does have  “search” function, that only works after conversion to text.
3. It has a “Quick Sheet” that is only a plain sheet of paper. There’s no way to set your personal “quick sheet” template to, say, lined paper.
4. You also can’t delete a Quick Sheet which is a pain for me. I have a habit of scribbling myself a note (perhaps something I need to do the next day) then once I’ve acted on that, I can’t delete the Quick Sheet and a clean one will magically appear. I have to erase what I’ve written.

If you already have something that uses a stylus (perhaps a Galaxy Note phone), you can save a bit. Same thing goes for a cover – it’s not necessary but our cats don’t manage their claws well so I put a cover on virtually everything. I still have a month or so to decide for certain whether I’m going to keep it but I’m leaning toward, “yes.”

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Since my eyes got bad a little over a year ago, I’ve had to listen to books rather than read. (It’s frustrating.) Having listened to a couple of hundred audiobooks over that span, I have a pretty decent idea of what constitutes good narration.

As an aside, something around six months ago, I got an email from Google Play, inviting me to be one of their beta testers for AI (Artificial Intelligence) book narration. I’d just paid about $3,500 (!) to convert Reinventing Herself into an audiobook and thought perhaps this would be a less expensive way to get one of my other fictions books into that format. I don’t remember my specific objections to the contract but I do remember thinking it wasn’t favorable to authors, so nixed that idea.

Sometime last week, I read that Apple Books had quietly introduced AI Narration into their library. Out of curiosity, I looked into it. It took me a bit to find a genre I liked and a storyline I was willing to potentially waste some money on. There were a few free options but I wasn’t interested in the book descriptions. I finally settled on a crime fiction novel for $2.99. I won’t name the book or author – were I they, I’d be embarrassed.

Anyhoo, five minutes in, I could tell I wouldn’t be buying another AI-narrated book for some time. The (male) voice was pleasant but the pacing! I was hearing periods where there are probably commas or semicolons.

Then it became obvious AI hasn’t learned all the nuances of the English language. It definitely has difficulty with compound words: boyfriend is articulated as boy friend, seagull is sea gull, etc. The really obvious faux pas: roly-poly was pronounced as roly-polly. (I get where it got that pronunciation from but…)

It also had difficulty with one of the character’s names. I don’t have the written word to check, but I believe his name is Captain Coate. There was no consistency to the pronunciation – sometimes it would be, “Coat” (probably correct), sometimes it would be, “Coaté.”

The last, and probably secondary issue after the pacing was the lack of differentiation in the characters’ voices. When one reads a book, your imagination translates the written word into something you hear in your brain. You give the characters different voices. When listening to a book, it’s up to the narrator (or reader, or performer – whichever term you prefer) to make that translation for you. This AI did not do that. It simply read the book. There are a few places where it seemed it was attempting to make different voices but it wasn’t consistent and they really weren’t all that dissimilar. That, at times, makes it difficult to follow conversations when there is no dialogue tag.

I finished the book because it’s a damned fine story but my verdict: AI Narration is Not Ready for Prime Time.

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If you follow me on social media, you know it got cold here last weekend: down to 1°F Saturday morning – very unusual for Georgia! Thankfully, our house is nicely insulated so we stayed warm, despite the furnace not quite being able to keep up between the cold air and frigid wind (we have a lot of cubic footage to heat with a cathedral ceiling in the living room). But the stories out of Atlanta about frozen/burst pipes and electricity going out so no heat are horrifying. People will be dealing with the aftermath of burst pipes for months.

Just so’s you know: building codes down south aren’t the same as those up north. I really do not understand not insulating pipes because it does get below freezing at least once or twice per winter, but I do get not building a house quite as tightly as those in colder climates. Houses down here need to breathe in the summer months to prevent humidity buildup and subsequent mold problems.

I got to thinking about how my characters (El from Reinventing Herself and Jo from Reclaiming Herself and their animals) would’ve handled such cold weather. They both relocated here to the mountains from Atlanta but have quite different backstories and mindsets.

El was raised just outside Waterloo, Iowa. Although she’d been in Atlanta for a few decades, dealing with cold weather is coded into her DNA. She would have sighed, lit a fire in the fireplace, grabbed a cup of hot coffee, and snuggled down with a book. Her 100-pound dog and long-hair cat would have snuggled up beside her if they weren’t outside – both have enough fur the cold wouldn’t bother them. Once a day, she’d pull on the parka she still owns to go check the mail. Because she was married to an architect and grown up in the north, she would have ensured the pipes were well-insulated during the remodeling of her house and winterized the outside spigots every year.

Jo, on the other hand, was born and raised in Atlanta. Despite whatever temperature it was in the house, she would have pulled on as many layers as she could wear and still be able to move. Go check the mail? Hell, no! There wasn’t anything so important she’d need to go outside. She wouldn’t have thought about her home/workshop construction until during a phone conversation when the weather people started talking about the impending arctic air, El would have gently inquired about pipe/spigot insulation. Then she would have panicked but finally taken a deep breath, inspected everything, and insulated where needed. Her familiar, a crow, would have spent the several days of cold in the house as close to Jo as possible, making snide comments about virtually everything, but secretly grateful for someplace warmer than her nest.

My husband and I both grew up in areas where winters can be hard so, although we both hate cold weather, are able to deal with it. How about you? Do you like cold weather?

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In the last week, since the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in the most egregious decision I can remember, I’ve seen no fewer than five Facebook pages post about abortifacient herbs and giving “instructions for use.” Nowhere could I find the posters’ qualifications. Indeed, they probably have none because…

Those of us who actually went to an accredited school to become herbalists and those who went even further to become certified/clinical herbalists were never taught about those herbs. For damned good reason. Any of those herbs (and I won’t name them so as to not perpetuate the lie) in dosages that are fatal to the fetus are also fatal to the mother in probably 80-90% of cases. Even if the mother doesn’t die immediately, it’s possible she ends up with a partial abortion, causing a septic uterus, which is also usually fatal.

“But my ancestor,” you say. Yes. Herbal (and mechanical) abortion was the only option available for centuries. Your ancestor may have lived but how many others died? I can name at least one: my paternal grandmother. Quoting directly from her death certificate, she died of, “sepsis following self-induced abortion,” just a year after my father was born. I don’t know if she used the proverbial coat hanger or took an herbal concoction but she died.

I am begging you, please do not follow any of the dangerous advice floating around the internet. I want you to live. Medical science has made abortion safe without resorting to potentially deadly action. If you find yourself in trouble, please contact the folks at AbortionFunds.org. They’ve been preparing for that horrid decision for years and can help, even if you’re in a state where things are now illegal.

A friend shared this image on Facebook. Take it to heart.

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‘Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the house

The creatures were stirring

Holy shit, it’s a mouse!

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care

The cats searched for treats

They are no longer there.

The children weren’t nestled all snug in their beds

Visions of video games danced in their heads.

My wife in her nightgown and I in my shorts

Tried to make love with the kids up and had to abort.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

The windows all vibrated – I thought they would shatter.

Away to the door I flew like a flash

Perhaps there was someone who would give me some cash?

The moon shone above a yard with no snow

Did I want to go out? It was Georgia but cold so I said hell no!

When what to my wondering eyes did appear

But a huge old sled drawn by eight large reindeer.

With a fat old man driving and drinking – he let out a hick!

I knew in my heart this could only be Nick.

Faster than eagles? Nope, but they came

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

“Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!

“On Comet! On Cupid! On Donner *hick* Blitzen!

“To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!”

He was swaying so much, I thought surely he’d fall.

The leaves I’d not raked swirled and blew

In the wake of their breeze…my lips turning blue.

Up to the housetop the reindeer – they flew!

With a sleigh full of gifts, and that fat, drunk elf, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,

The prancing and pawing of each reindeer’s hoof.

As I worried about holes made by the weight of the sleigh,

I heard a crash in the living room and there Santa lay.

I ran inside, crouched next to him on the floor,

Santa held out his flask, saying, “I need more.”

The sack with toys was flung to one side,

He eyed it with dismay, saying, “I honestly tried.

“I’m too old for this shit,” he slurred then groaned

As he rose to his feet I could see he was stoned.

His eyes – they twinkled! His dimples were merry,

And like most drunks, his nose looked a cherry.

But his mouth smiled, some would say in a bow,

As he slowly brushed soot and ash from his clothes.

He pulled out a pipe, packed and then lit it,

“Takes the edge off you know. Would you perhaps like a hit?”

I shook my head and he grinned with glee.

“You don’t indulge. That means more for me!”

In moments he was a hungry old elf,

And I laughed as he ate the food on the shelf.

“Fill my flask while I work,” he asked me again

And I did as he asked while he hummed a refrain.

He rehung the stockings and filled them with care,

Then placed gifts by the tree – for us all, a pair.

“My thanks, young man,” he said with a wink

Took his flask from my hand and was gone in a blink.

I heard a commotion on the roof, then a piercing whistle,

And I knew they were gone, not as fast as a missile.

But I heard him shout out as they took to the sky,

“Merry Christmas to all, but I have no idea why!”

With abject apologies to Clement Moore.

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