It was a terrible year to be at Stonehenge for the Summer Solstice Festival, but there were still over 40,000 people partying all over the mound, climbing, screaming, singing, dancing, and chanting. It was raining that English summer country rain, the kind that goes on non-stop for days and comes at you in a fine mist from every direction and soaksnot just through everything you are wearing but all the way through you as well and chills you to the marrow. It was 4am. There were (at least) three longer, hard, hours until sunrise and any hope of getting warm or dry again. We were sitting on dirty black plastic bin liners, huddled up together, shivering, backs up against the stones, under a leaky, makeshift shelter made of an old umbrella and some scrap sheets of plastic we managed to find somewhere. It wasn’t helping much. We had just managed to get here an hour ago.  I had been on a plane all night the night before. I was exhausted before we even got here. This year, or me, so far,  it wasn’t exactly boatloads of fun. I wasn’t sure about Simon

    “Shhhhhhh…”  Simon said it so softly I almost couldn’t hear him at first, over all the chaos.

“Be very still… and quiet”

He pointed down at the ground, near to his right leg, at a quiet little spot (just about the only one, anywhere) where there happened to be no plastic covering the earth. There was a hole in the ground no more than an inch or two in diameter, right up against the base of the massive stone. Poking its head out the top was a tiny  grey creature with pointy nose and bright grey eyes, come to join us in our plastic womb (or tomb)  just barely big enough for the two (no, make that the three!) of us

“What is it?”

“A vole”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s kind of like a shrew. Just think of it as a sort off a fat, fancy, mouse”

“ Great. Now I’m picturing it in a top hat, dickey with a bow tie and a monocle”

It didn’t seem frightened at all.  Only curious as to what was all the commotion and who we were and just exactly what the heck was going on around here at this hour. I think if we had wanted to, we could have reached out with one finger and stroked it on the head.

“It’s only mid –June, it can’t be more than a month or two old. So it’s never seen a single person in its entire life. Look, it doesn’t know enough to even be afraid of us.  It’s never even seen one normal human being, and now there are 40.000 lunatics  taken over its entire world.”

“I think I know how it feels; I’ve had a few days like that”

“Can you just imagine? You’re just going along, doing your own little vole thing, every single day,  minding your business and this place is completely deserted.”

“And one day, you just wake up, and stick your nose out, and see …this?”

We now we are laughing out loud now, we are all warm and lit up from the inside, with all that special bliss that envelopes you once you understand the universes gave you the privilege of sharing with you firsthand, one of their  millions of wonderful, crazy, miniscule, everyday miracles happening all around you all the time that you almost never fortunate enough to notice, much less enjoy, or appreciate.

Once in a great while, you just get to “ to have a larrff” with the Mighty Forces of our Grand Universe , and join in on one of the Great Cosmic Jokes, even  if it’s just for a moment or two, even  if it’s just one with big grey eyes and pointy snoot, that’s only two inches long.

Our little friend spent all night with us. Every now and then he would scuttle out and take a few steps and a bit of a sniff, safe under our shelter, making the occasional trip back down below to do whatever it is that a busy baby vole must do to meet his vole responsibilities, and to fill his busy little vole day . I don’t know how long the average vole lives (but I hope it’s a long, long time.) I think of him sometimes when I think of Stonehenge, or Simon or I think I just heard the Universe give a quiet little giggle. And I wish I could see my little friend someday, so I could ask him… “Hey little buddy… Did you ever make it to the party again? “


Thats why I write from 11 pm until dawn! I feel like hell all day, especially if I dont stop until dawn the day AFTER, when in the zone ,and can never get anything done that rquires movement or brain cells between 9 and 5 (like get to the Post Office) but it is the only way to get any peace to concentrate on my work! This should be required  reading for anyone who knows , loves or wants to smother a writer in their sleep!


It is said that writers are a different breed. Hopefully the word different isn’t used in place of a less ambiguous word…like warped.

I don’t know if writers can claim exclusive rights to such a label, but they definitely don’t fit neatly within most accepted classifications.

With that being said, I’d like to talk about some annoyances and problems only writers will understand, facepalm

because in many respects we are different—but not in a bad way. There are just some things that we deal with on an almost-daily basis that normal people would react to with a shrug and a “So?”

Here is a partial list of such things – but it’s NOT a Top Ten List

Temptations, Obligations and Favors:

If you’re like me, you have a full time job, and the majority of your writing is done on the weekends.

While your friends are firing up the…

View original post 2,106 more words

Book two in my new Series the Amazing Gracelynn has been 80% percent done since December! And I’m just finishing it this week (I hope) but everything has gone wrong since Christmas! I started turning into Jabba the Hutt  sometime in late  December, but I thought , well, I just need the weather to get good, get some exercise, fresh air, get a tan , stop spending so much time at the keyboard and more doing things like occasionally speaking to people  and leaving the house and I’m sure the unattractive skin tone , insanely  rapidly increasing writers spread, newly acquired cankles, lethargy and the bizarre croaking sound  when I attempt to use my vocal chords will be gone in no time!

As soon as it gets the slightest bit warm I’m going back on Atkins and starting my daily 2 mile walk to the gym again, starting Operation Turn Back time and catching the bus home curled up in a ball moaning 3 hours later! It will be great! So off I trot to by My GP who gives me the Great news! I am not, in fact a lunatic who loves to scream at my rambunctious adult children who should know better horse playing full volume while I’m trying to work but instead I have high blood pressure!

HA HA HA In your face FAM!

I am NOT a crazy bitch I’m SICK! TOLD YOU SO! Go ME!

And he  must have been right because about a week later I heard my sixteen year old whispering to his big brother on the phone” Mom is so… nice. Now”

So I resolve to begin healthy living immediately as promised. And then we have the Coldest February on the east coast of the US of A in RECORDED HISTORY!  But that’s okay because I’m still feeling pretty shitty and Jabba the Hutt thing is really out of control at this point so I really don’t feel like walking much anyway especially since I wake up screaming in agony and rush myself to the emergency room to find out I have a severe kidney infection!

“How bad is it Doc?”

“Well, most people come in here with a little blood in their urine, you have a little urine in your blood.”


“I mean I know I never move off the couch because I’m always writing, live on the coffee, rum, orange, juice and dill pickle diet when I’m working but why do I feel so crappy all the time? And what s up with the whole turning into Jabba the Hutt thing?”

“Well  we did every test on you know to mankind and some we made on the spot just for the fun of it and the conclusion is it’s a miracle you managed to drag your boated , babyshit brown colored croaking carcass in here because you have the worst thyroid levels we’ve ever seen in an actually living human being.  How we all laughed in our office when we saw the results of your lab work! I thought Sharon at the front desk was going to pee herself she was so hysterical,” he says reminiscing wiping a tear of joy and amusement at my expense from his eye!”

However if you religiously take your thyroid meds as i have been telling you to for years instead of popping one every three or four days when you actually remember to eat REAL food you might start feeling slightly better in.. Oh, 3-4 months or so. But… On the bright side… (There is a bright side?)

“You are NOT, as your family and friends have been happily reminding you daily for five years, Going to Die! at least, In the near future “ If you don’t quit drinking, start , eating, get some exercise and quit staying up for three days non –stop writing” In fact, considering your lifestyle Its astounding just exactly  how NOT GOING TO DIE YOU ARE!

“But I was so certain this time! What about the … “THYROID


“Yeah but then there’s the …” THYROID”

“But certainly THIS is really Weir…” “THYROID”

But you have to admit THAT is certainly not Norma…”  “ THYROID”

So I crawled on the bus and went home , in my scaly brown  flabby body leaving a trail of green oooze behind me and with a hot girl in a gold bikini with hair earmuffs on a leash.

Not looking forward to the next four months but thrilled at the opportunity to disappoint my loved ones with the news that  I was not, in fact, going to die and as long as I took my meds I could continue to do just exactly as I pleased 24/7 without dying ANYTIME in the near future unless one of them smothered me in my sleep. Which is not outside the realm of possibility, which is one of the main reasons I never sleep.

But I did decide that it was time for a much needed vacation so I went to visit my son Jayme the actor in LA for two weeks for some fresh air, exercise, sunshine and “medicine”.

Los Angles, of course, being the perfect vacation destination when you are going to hang out with a bunch of gorgeous sexy 20 something actors, models, and comedians when “Dude yo mamma is so sick she looks just like Jabba the Hut” which was unfortunately, confirmed when I got home and checked out the 400 pictures of the trip only two of which I would be caught dead in and will ever see the light of day, believe me.

Will blog LA trip in part two.

But at least March got off to a good start!

So I immediately doubled my time  drinking , and staying up on 50 hour writing marathons knowing my internal organs had already been that badly abused and were still giving me the thumbs up so I clearly wasn’t working hard enough yet! GO ME!

I’m hoping June will be better because in May my husband had a life threatening  heart blocked artery situation which was hopefully fixed permanently with two stents GO SCIENCE!

But causing me to miss the Todd Rundgren Global tour gig in Virginia and backstage at The Who in Philly, two of the only three decent shows coming up the next two months but really, in the scheme of things SO WHAT?  GO GRATITUDE!

My mom has gotten even sicker even though with Parkinson’s disease and a bad heart already getting SICKER really doesn’t seem fair, but her team of Specialists have been predicting she would die any day now for at least the last twenty years and I think she’s so determined not to that when the rest of us are gone it will be up to her and Keith Richards to repopulate the human race.  GO MOM!

My Dell from Hell which had just been completely refurbished after it ate hard drive number 16  in January ate hard drive number 17 in May and computer less I spent a week tearing the house apart doing hard physical manual labor trying to clean and organize the place because the only time I do housework is when my computer is broken!( hmmmm, I wonder if my hubby has anything to do with all those broken hard drives?)

And my oldest son could have died in a car crash but emerged without a scratch!

Then went BACK to work on the book full force immediately after and I crashed so bad from all the hard work and stress in Jan through April  that the third week of May I just slept  non- stop seven straight days and I’m still tired! LOL

But we are all still here and for that I’m very happy and  very grateful

And by the of the week book two Growing Up Gracefully will be a final draft for proofreading



Youmay not have written anything spectacular, you may not have a novel out there or even write for that matter but you can still make people think you are a writer / famous novelist.

Here are some useful tips on achieving that all important ‘I am a writer’ look. It’s very fashionable and bang on trend.

We writers always hang out in coffee shops so this is the perfect location to give the general public the impression that you are a writer / famous novelist. This is what my Saturday mornings are spent doing – sigh!

1. Look the writer part. Track suit bottoms / pyjamas, hair not seen a brush for days and that bleary eyed / been stuck in front of a laptop for days stare.

2.Your coffee order is a reflection of your creativity. As a writer you need to be ordering something creative.Make it…

View original post 501 more words