I Ain't Said Nothin' But A Word...

ARRRGH! I swear, this book I’m trying to finish is giving me a major migraine and I've got a proposal I need to be working on. We’ll totally disregard the fact that everything is late and not fashionably late, but more like agent and editor ready to ring my neck late. It’s late because editorial changes on book one dictated a major rewrite. So, not only is it late but the characters are just not gelling. He’s not giving me any warm and fuzzy feelings and she is starting to wreck my nerves. And I can’t begin to tell you why I’m having such a difficult time pulling this one together. For the first time ever I actually know the story. I know the story like I know my name. I know everything my hero is supposed to do and everything the heroine is supposed to say. They’ve had more conversations together in my head than I care to remember and I still can’t seem to get it to feel on paper the way I need it to feel. And I’ve been having a major migraine trying. I think part of my problem is

I’m back. Bet you didn’t even realize I was gone. But I was. Death and funerals took me away for awhile. They say birth and death comes in threes. So, I’m done with the death. I lost my brother-in-law and an aunt within days of each other. They were numbers two and three for me this year. My dear friend’s mother was the first. In a few months time, we’ll welcome new life. Beautiful babies – three of them. It’s that whole passing on of spirits thing I told you about. The brother-in-law has a daughter who’s expecting. The aunt has a niece on her husband’s side of the family who’ll give birth any day now. I haven’t found the third baby coming yet, but I’ve been dreaming about her. And I’ve been dreaming about her family – dreaming that they are my family. People look at me crazy when they discover that I believe in haints and spirits. And I do. I’ve heard and seen too much in my lifetime to deny the presence of energy that sometimes walks with us through our lives. My aunt took ill unexpe

When family steps into some mess they usually know how to step in it good. Jim and Tim were born so close together that most folks assumed they were twins. Few knew that there were actually ten whole months that separated one’s birth from the other. Tim and Jim had been at odds with each other since the beginning. Tim, the youngest, was the favored child. Parental preference was showered down on him simply because he looked most like his Caucasian father. Older brother Jim was acutely aware that the darker tone of his biracial roots placed him second in their father’s eyes. Daddy found it necessary to remind him every time his younger sibling was allowed to tag along while he was left behind. Where their black mommy was during this time is a whole other story. By the time Tim and Jim had reached their teens they were waging daily battles to prove their worth with Jim always failing in good old padres color struck eyes. These brothers battled for approval and value, the fallout from the

HGTV’s reality show Design Star has narrowed their selection down to two choices for the American public to vote on. Kim Myles has my vote hands down! I think this woman is absolutely priceless. She has the most engaging, warming spirit and this infectious laugh and smile. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment she was on camera. I love everything she’s done this season and one day will have her decorate my dream house. I hope that happens soon because I have no doubts that before long she’ll be well out of my dream price range. If you haven’t watched the show, catch the repeats. I’m sure they’ll have a few leading up to the final announcement next Sunday. The other guy is very good as well, but Kim is better. Just my opinion. Voting closes on the http://www.hgtv.com/ website on Wednesday. So vote, for Kim. Name: Kim Myles Age: 34 Home: Queens, New York Profession: Hair Stylist/Design Enthusiast Education: Associate's degree in Performing Arts — Pacific Conservatory of Performing

I have a new attitude and it came on the heels of one very harsh reality. Life ain’t fair and no one said it would be. My grandfather use to say that there were only two things in the world he had to do: stay black and die. According to the Philosophy of Ollie his black wasn’t going anywhere and death was just a journey we’re all destined to take at some point in time. Other than that he had full control over everything else and most important, he had full control over himself. And don’t ever whine about life being unfair because that would truly get him ranting and raving. He didn’t mind reminding you that no one made you any promises about your life one way or the other so if you failed to meet your own expectations, tough. You would soon get over it, or not. Again, your choice. Old folks and old folks philosophy wasn’t high on my To-Follow list when I was younger. All those life lessons had to be learned the hard way because I was stubborn to a fault. Papa use to say a hard head mad

I stopped giving my book reviews any credence ages ago. My very first review almost made me stop writing. The reviewer was absolutely brutal. Once I got past the shock I realized that for every negative comment she had made about the book, many others had praised it. An acquaintance emailed me a recent review posted at Romance In Color of my last book and asked what I thought of it. Girlfriend was just trying to start some mess and I told her so. I figured I would answer her question though, just because I don’t mind ending mess real quick. Aside from the fact that it took close to four months for the book to even be read, I don’t have much else to say about the review. Clearly the reviewer hated it. No, hate might be a little strong. She disliked it immensely. And I’m glad for her. I certainly don’t like everything I read so I don’t expect folks to like everything I write. I had to laugh because she disliked it so much that her final comment was: If you like stories with little or no

Tina’s grandmother was renowned for her quilt making. During the course of her life she’d made hundreds of quilts, all of them hand stitched. Her grandmother was known to say that she stitched each stitch with love and love would stay long after she was gone. Tina remembers well those summer vacations at her granny’s where the two would sit on her front porch and sew as they shared space and time together. Tina’s favorite memory of that time in her life is when her granny would ask for a story and as they pieced fabric into intricate patterns, Tina would spin a tale, granny interjecting wisdom along the way. Her grandmother had told her that one day she would write a book and Tina believed her granny because her granny had never steered her wrong. Tina’s grandmother gifted her two quilts, one on her sixteenth birthday and the other on her wedding day. Tina’s wedding quilt was an exquisite vision of white and red and for Tina it represented the wealth of possibilities her marriage held