My wheelhouse

Wheelhouse -a baseball phrase (who knew, I didn’t as a baseball mom) is referred as something you become or are an expert of or in.

I didn’t know where that saying, reference came from until recently, but it’s a favorite of mine when discussing why I write. That’s in or not in my wheelhouse. A few people have said to me that I inspire and I should tell my testimony. My response has always been “I don’t see that in my wheelhouse; writing nonfiction”. Testimony, to me, is a powerful statement, story of going through, perseverance and making it through some trying obstacles. Yet I’m gently being reminded, a lot here, that maybe my story can inspire action, change, enlightenment, growth.

There is nothing extraordinary in my story. Only my faith that nothing is ever hopeless or lost. Only that change is necessary for growth. That no one story is lost on me; there is an inspiration that fuels me to either be better or pay it forward to help another be better. It’s simple. I am a product of a village who believes in “it takes a village”. I believe that everyday I rise I still have time to make dreams a reality. All it requires is taking that first step.

Returning to my passion of writing has made one point crystal clear. I am a writer. Period. What drew me to writing was telling a story. Although I prefer writing fiction, God requested another that requires my skills as a reporter, and my faith in His request to carry it to fruition. And as I continue this journey with a co-author for her project, I’m reminded of another sitting on the horizon that has been planted by a few Who see something greater in me. I hear you God. I’m listening.

They say things happen in their own season. Mine is upon me. I see now that my wheelhouse is filling with more than just fiction. For me that’s a pretty powerful awakening. Are you interested? I know I am.


Enjoy your weekend. I’m off to hear my favorite guitarist (my son) have his biggest gig to date. Here’s a taste of him rehearsing last night with members of Parliament Funkadelic.

Friday’s Child

Hello Friday from one of your Friday’s child.  I’m bubbly cheerful today.  I am alive, it’s my favorite day of the week.  My source of inspiration today comes from a post I read this morning from Author Accelerator,,  entitled “Books Gathering Dust in the Garage: The Fear of Failure”.  The post spoke about how we as authors overcome our uncertainty, our fear of failure and how we measure success in our craft.  I drew hope, inspiration and a drive to continue from those words.

My other source of inspiration.  The incredulous Dr. Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott dropped new music today.  I’m bouncing in my seat y’all waiting for the end of my professional day so I can turn up the music on my way home. Here’s a throwback for ya to start your weekend.  Have a great one.





September, are you ready?

Each year that month rolls around represents so much for me. September, my birth month. Playing Earth Wind & Fire’s September on my birthday. Singing that first line at the top of my lungs “Do you remember the 21st night of September?” Yep, my birth date. My husband playing “Happy Birthday Lisa” from the classic show, still on the air, The Simpsons.
But more than that September for me is the beginning to renewing, starting again. Back to school most kids go to engage in a new year of wonderment, connecting the dots from what they know to what is new or changing. September when the leaves start to change their color and shed; readying themselves for winter. The sun sets and rises a little bit later and a little bit earlier. Those hues of autumn: orange, burnt reds, toast, bronzed banana with a splash of wintergreen. September, football season. The last days of outdoor swimming pools and humid summer afternoons.  September. Looking forward to the brisk air, apple cider, crackling wood in the fireplace. The last day of summer and the first day of fall. As August starts to wind down, I find that this has been my month of renewal. A continuance from July where I finally owned my dream and begin the work of watching it unfold and grow and blossom.
This September finds me working on three projects: Aeverless, my first sci-fi thriller/suspense. 9 Days 777600 Seconds, my second suspense/mystery novel and my first paid gig as a ghost writer. I’ll be taking a brief mini trip to celebrate my 57th birthday. There have been some other monumental changes in the last year; all exciting. They have brought joy and a different skip in my step as I get another year closer to a new decade. So this new journey of mine as an author and publisher, get ready September. August is tasking you to keep up!

Today’s inspiration

This was taken some summers ago, thirteen if I’m correct in my math.  I’d taken some my time, spending four glorious days with my brother and his partner before joining my girlfriends in Vegas for a girl’s get away.  Silver Fork Lodge, located in Brighton UT, is a local establishment dating back to 1947.  Three things stood out, the remarkable view of the mountains and canyon, the food, and the hummingbirds.  Brings a smile to my face every time I see this picture. Today I am this hummingbird, carefree in my spirit, my attitude, singing away to the beat in my heart.


Silver Hill Lodge Utah

Stay Woke

Someone asked me recently what “stay woke” meant.  It wasn’t to ruffle my feathers; it was an honest question.  Each ethnic group has there own rally sayings to motive a person or group of people to action.  I smiled and proceeded to calmly state what it means to me.  When I referenced it to past generations roll call for change, they knew exactly what my definition was defining. Stay woke is not just a black thing, it needs to be an American thing.

This last decade, I’m starting at 2008 as a point of reference, has been both uplifting and a test of strength, courage and challenges.  I say this as the majority of Americans came together to support our first African American President, not only for the first four years but his second term as well.  As uplifting as it was and should be, that’s history that cannot be rewritten, we’ve got to do better.  The constant criticism and harassment against an administration that weathered the most brutal onslaught from a party who refused to recognize and play fair; I commend them for their service to their country and belief that the United States has a lot to offer anyone who visits and those who call it home.

I say this as I watched  still watch in great disappointment the chaos going on in our country for the past two years.  How one man’s rhetoric and his party has reopened deep wounds and thinks this  country will thrive and survive, no matter the cost.  I watch as they defend it with a badge of honor. Where is the honor? your dignity? Are you really willing to lose another generation, the next generation of leaders, scientists, everyday people  to revert back to a generation and time where minorities and women didn’t have a voice?

I hear and see story after story of young lives lost to physical, sexual abuse, to violence, to drugs.  Every time we lose a child to gun violence, and make no mistake, it’s always somebody’s child no matter the age, that is another generation lost.  Every child lost to suicide is another generation lost.  Every child lost to drug addiction is another generation lost.

I say this as programs designed to uplift our poor, our homeless, our veterans continue to lose funding.   Policies being implemented or discontinued making it harder for them to recover and lift themselves out of trying situations. I say this as drug addiction continues to cripple families.  Shamelessly tearing apart families that have been here for years, shipping people back to countries that some haven’t even lived in because they were born in the United States.  Gun manufactures more interested in making money than helping us to find ways to tackle mental health issues.

I say this as a mother of a young black male whose constantly drilling him “You must be better, do better.  Watch your mouth and attitude in public.  If you get stopped by the police, listen and do.  Don’t talk back.  When you walk into a store, if you have a hoodie on pull it away from your face.  When you’re out and you feel uncomfortable in a situation, walk away and call us while you’re walking away.  You can’t sleep on any of this.  Be respectful at all times, even when they are provoking you to do otherwise.  Stay woke!”

Our nation is changing.  Change is always inevitable but this change, this time isn’t for the best.  Too many sacrifices made for all the wrong reasons.  We all have the right to be content and happy in our lives, but creating that happiness and peace has to go beyond our front door.

Postscript: These are my opinions.  I’m not looking for any responses.  On occasion I put on my reporter hat.  This is one of those times.

Okay, What’s Next

Before the procrastination set in, before I lost my nerve I dived into deep water and published my first book. Okay, so what’s next.
I discovered I need to market just to get a following. That means blogging a couple times a week. Beginners 101 – learn more about formatting and editing. Lo and behold, I was blessed to find two editors to help me going forward. A couple of people enlisted to be beta-readers. I’m searching websites, reading advice from other authors like me on the joys of writing, writer’s block, creating scenes and characters. I’m working on new novels, setting goals to get the next two books to publication before or by Spring 2020. I created my own publishing house so now I’m in control of my destiny.  I’m reviewing book covers to garner interest while I’m writing. I’m building soundtracks to the mood and tempos of my characters.
I’m loving every minute of it. See what happens when you decide to take that first step. Fear decreases, exhilaration takes hold. You’ve accomplished something and created something from the depths of your soul. It is now part of history to be touched, read and reread through the remaining of time. Wow! My sister friend, fellow author L. Chanel says “Catch it”.
So to Becky Kyle, Elle Chanel and K.L. Brady thank you for continuing to kick me through the door. I’m here now and I ain’t going nowhere.



Tidbit from Aeverless

Jonas, a psychopath, is the vilest of the three. Had he any inkling about having not one but two brothers, he would have bent hell into thousands of pieces to ensure he was the only remaining Strangelove. His father, a warped man, kept Jonas and gave what he considered the weaklings up for adoption. Turns out that each brother was extremely intelligent and quite fit physically, but Morrows was the smartest of the group. That spoke volumes seeing that every member of The Fathers had an IQ of more than 150. His thoughts turned back to the brothers. Jacob and Morrows favored each other and Jonas, did not resemble anyone in the immediate Strangelove bloodline. The discovery had been made when each of the brothers were recruiting to serve their country. Morrows, the first was lucky to have the records scrubbed but kept tabs on the two from a distance. After delving further into their history, he discovered that Jonas resembled a distant uncle from the 20th century, who was had been diagnosed as mentally insane. It wasn’t until the Dugway mission that they realized Jacob also had knowledge of his brothers. It is Jacob now that has him concerned. Somehow the virus infected two of the three brothers. Jonas has completely transformed and to their knowledge cannot shapeshift like his brother Jacob. Jacob roams the area between Dugway and Winema like a bloodhound but has yet to strike. Brooks dreams has confirmed it, meaning it was imperative that they get to the island quickly and have then send them on their way. With the Shadows not aware of the advancements the government made, the trio should be able to use it to their full advantage changing the course of mankind’s history. That and Morrow’s promise. Under no circumstances were his daughters to ever know of their direct relationship to Jonas, Jacob and the Strangelove family.

#amwriting #sci-fi #suspense #Aeverlesscoming2020