Remember, remember, the fifth of November.

In case you were wondering, that is not me in the photograph. I can’t even remember the plot for V for Vendetta and I really don’t know anything about Guy Fawkes day, but November 5th is a day I will never forget. You see, way back in November of 2009, I went to Texas to interview Khristian Oliver, a man who was scheduled to be executed on November 5. I did this for my thesis about death and death professions at Goucher College. This thesis later became the book Death Becomes Us.

Anyway, meeting Khristian Oliver had a huge impact on my life. Call me naive or whatever, but I couldn’t believe that the state of Texas was going to kill someone. And they did. I was right outside. And then I went to a funeral home and there he was, cold and lifeless on a gurney. It was absolutely horrifying and surreal.

Then I met his girlfriend, Sonya Reed, who is also incarcerated but shouldn’t be and I adopted her feral cat from the women’s death row unit and went to a Pentecostal Church and scared a bunch of people, mainly myself, and well…read the book. Or just read old entries on this blog.

Anywho, when my agent was unable to sell it to a traditional publisher, I decided to publish it on my own as a way to honor all those people who let me take a peek into their lives. I released it in November of 2015. In February of 2016, I was interviewed by Krys Boyd on NPR’s think and to this day, it has been the highlight of my writing life.

Fastforward a few years. I had an MFA in Creative Nonfiction and what did I do with all that serious nonfiction training? I’ll tell you what I did. I wrote a very weird book about a menopausal vampire on a quest to become mortal again. You would think I would have learned my lesson after the first book. You know, write something that is on an agent’s wishlist. But no, I didn’t do that. Most publishing houses had strung up strands of garlic to keep the vampire tales away. I was told there were too many of them (thanks Twilight and the vampirepalooza it inspired) and they were oh so tired of reading yet another blood sucking novel no matter how original it might be. So, I opted for a small publisher (Fawkes Press, not Guy Fawkes Press, but hmmmmm) with a release date of, you guessed it, November 5, 2020.

And then we all know what happened in 2020. There was a lack of toilet paper. Everyone started baking sourdough bread. I got to hide my RBF behind a mask. I started a book club on Facebook to help other debut authors who had to cancel their launch and in person events.

And then about a month and a half before my book peeked it’s pasty little face out into the sun, the unthinkable happened. First, my stepdad died, and then five days later, my mom became extremely sick and was admitted to the hospital with Covid. It was horrible. It’s still horrible. She died October 21, 2020.

So, let’s just say my head, or my heart, wasn’t in the marketing game after the book’s release. I did manage to get interviewed by Ron Charles of the Washington Post because he loved my press release for the blood drive I had orchestrated for the book’s launch. And then a book to film agent called and wanted to work on getting Forever 51 turned into a series.

So, why am I telling you all of this? It’s November 5th. My book baby is now this many.

So, happy birthday, Veronica and Jenny! I loved getting to know you and bringing your stories to life. I am foregoing the cake and opting for something warm, dark, and red to celebrate your first birthday! Here’s to many more!

f you’d like to gift someone a signed copy of Forever 51 for the holidays, I have a few copies collecting dust on my bookshelf. For twenty bucks, I will sign/inscribe something to your BFF and pop it in the mail for you.

F**k, My Book is Less Than a Buck!

Want to help me reach new readers and get an orange bestseller flag in an obscure category on Spamazon? Gift my book to yourself and everyone you know. I think the limit is 4, but seriously, for less than the price of a latte at Starshmucks, you can help a gal realize a dream…”Bestselling author!”

You know, Mother’s Day is right around the corner and nothing says “I love you, Mom” quite like a humorously horrific tale of vampire redemption. Yes, I’m cheap, but I’m not easy.

Okay, I’m done with the high pressure sales pitch. I’m sure you can smell desperation all the way from your back porch in Lincoln, NE, so I’ll shut my pie hole.

Let’s see, what else is new and noteworthy? Well, I’ve had a few things published online. The links are below…

For a character Interview with Veronica the Vampire, click here.

I was interviewed on the Debutante Ball. I wasn’t wearing a fancy dress or dancing, but I did talk about reading Richard Ramirez, aka the Nightstalker’s, mail. Click here.

Last, but certainly not least, I was on a panel at the Get Lit Festival. Disrupting Stereotypes: Older Women in Contemporary Literature. Video Below.

Thanks for stopping by. If you have read Forever 51, please leave a review on Goodreads, Bookbub or Amazon. Thank you!

Good Grief?

In 2008, I went to Goucher College to give myself permission to write. Because I’m a people pleaser, who ironically tries to avoid most people, I wrote my thesis based on an accidental call to a funeral home to please my mentor. (Hi Diana!) At 40, I didn’t have a lot of experience with death, but after exploring death professions for two years, I realized that it wasn’t death so much that I feared, it was grief. Stuffing unpleasant/uncomfortable feelings was my go-to coping mechanism, but I knew instinctively that the mighty giant of grief awaited around the corner and there was no way I would be able to stuff that shit. (Sorry, Diana, but sometimes “shit” is the best word.)

“If you’ve loved a lot, you’re going to grieve a lot.” Kati Bachman

It wasn’t just my own grief that I feared, it was also your grief. As I mentioned above, I avoid people. I’m an introvert (INFP if you’re into Myers Briggs) with social anxiety. You are more likely to find me at your (pre-Covid) soiree hiding in a corner playing with your dog than standing at the punchbowl making small talk with a bunch of strangers. (And that’s if I actually attend your party.) So, prior to writing about death, if we were coworkers and I found out that your mom died, I would avoid you.

One, because I didn’t know what to say to you to fix your grief. I have since discovered that there are no words to “fix” someone’s grief but avoiding people who are grieving has the unfortunate side effect of making that person feel like they are contagious or that what they are going through is wrong. Grief is not wrong. It’s natural. And I don’t know if you know this or not, but SPOILER ALERT: we are all going to die. People we love will die. Even people we don’t like will die. And right now, a lot of people are dying.

Two, because I didn’t want to make you feel worse by bringing up the death of the person that you loved. Which is ridiculous the more I think about it. You/I already feel bad. If I avoid talking about the pink elephant that I know is there, and you know is there, I imply that you need to get over this thing by yourself. And quickly. Like before next week so we can all get back to talking about Baby Yoda, the true meaning of covfefe (I think it’s Covid fatigue. Webster’s, call me!) or this ridiculously awful year.

My debut novel, Forever 51, came out this week and I have experienced everything from elation to existential dread. Wonderful things have been happening with the book, but I am also sad and weepy and it sucks. (Diana, I did refrain from using another expletive in that sentence.) I want to call my mom, but since that isn’t possible, talking/writing about my grief will have to do.

For now.