Sunday, August 17, 2014


  I was an only child until I was an adult. Not always having someone to play with or argue with was near perfect breeding ground for a vivid, creative imagination, as well as becoming resourceful and self-reliant.

 Since injuring my finger back in January, I have had to slow down to a degree, say no to a few of the projects I would have loved to take on, and say yes to the friends and family who have been screaming the same thing at me, "I am here! Hello! Let me help you! You don't have to do it all yourself." 

 I realize that the energy and effort that I have put out into the atmosphere has come back. Or as my Romell character says in LOVE CHANGES, "Respect is like a boomerang. Give it, and it will come back to you eventually."

 So now, this independent, efficient, self-sufficient, uber-responsible, Super-duppa Octopus (with a wounded tentacle), kindly and graciously accepts. I do not have to be a one-man-army. I am a queen. And this queen says, "Yes, please. And thank you!"

Advice From My SHERO....

One of my literary SHEROs gave me this piece of advice after I completed my third draft of Love Changes and was "done." She said to me, "Be sure to make time to 'not write'."

At the time, I was like "huh." But, I SO understand what she means now. Crafting a novel takes focus that is consuming and almost compulsive. Serious writers are always writing, forever students of life, always observing, r
cording, jotting notes, even when we are supposed to be "relaxing." Because we consider everything "grist for the mill," life itself can turn into research for our next project. But life is life, meant to be experienced and enjoyed just because we are blessed...and can breathe.

I realize this, because I have spent plenty of time lately "not writing." Now, back to the drawing board....

Chocolate Love Coming May 2015.

Saturday, August 9, 2014


Authors LOVE book lovers!

Looking to write books?
Reading leads to good writing,
Books that readers would read.
True wordsmiths hook 'em...
With a strong lead.
Learn techniques:
The means to The End.

---Eartha Watts Hicks #Earthatone

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

WRITING PROMPT: Bones Found in the Backyard Garden....

Uncle Merle always believed warmer climate would be balm to his bones. Aunty Mavis and Uncle Merle withdrew their retirement savings specifically to relocate to the Jacksonville. Aunty Mavis was just happy to find a patch a grass that she could till and harvest vegetables year round.

The foreclosed property they picked up looked like something from a dream. The previous owners did no damage to it, none whatsoever. They left it as is, as if never disturbed, and I couldn't figure out why. Why flee exposed brick fireplaces, a marble floor foyer, wrought iron banisters, bay windows and hardwoods throughout? How could anyone vacate property this beautiful, property situated within walking distance of a freshwater lake and not be filled with resentment?

The check engine light had been lit on the van for about a week. I wasn't too sure he remembered to fill her up, but my uncle drove that old van to town to pick up more chip wood. He has a pacemaker, so I'm glad he was gone when she screamed.

I stepped on the hem of my nightgown, running out into the yard, falling onto the back porch, scrapping up both my elbows. Aunty Mavis's small shovel was still pitched in the dirt. She was breathing heavily. "What do you make of this, Chile? Dem, dem gots to be pig bones, right?"

I did kick dirt away to get a better look at the end caps. The burlap from the bag of fresh soil was still laying behind her. I snatched it up and dropped it across what I was sure was human remains, the right femur and tibia of an adult male to be exact. And then I said to her, "Of course it's a pig, Aunty Mavis! What else would it be?"

I grabbed hold of my aunt's cold, still trembling hand and led her back inside. I had no clue when Uncle Merle would make it back, but I did know one thing. To be my aunt's balm right now, I had to remain calm.