Friday Fiction: Domestic Tranquility and Lack Thereof

Rigi’s day has gone well, perhaps too well. Then she opens the back door…

By the time Makana guided Cuthbert and cart through the back gate of the Prananda residence, Rigi had sketched out a basic idea for the work, although the size took her breath away. She’d never, ever worked on anything of the scale Mr. Kenner proposed. That alone gave her pause, but she needed the funds. The design, however, left her blinking a little. Rigi drifted up the steps, lost in thought, and opened the door to the coat and shoe room.

Ray’s voice echoed through the house. “I did not!”

“Yes you did! Where did you hid him?” Tamara demanded.

“I didn’t hide it,” Ray corrected. “You’re the one with the bad language.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Continue reading


Too Frazzled to Post

Instead of working on a blog post, I’m trying to get a lot of other things done before the forecast tornado and large hail outbreak (1400 CDT, Tuesday May 7).  Content resumes tomorrow.

Update 2130 CDT, May 7. At one point there were five tornado warnings with three on the ground. Amarillo came close, but were missed. We had minor street flooding of the usual places.

Bad Character, Stop That!

I finally realized why the WIP feels like I’m pulling my own teeth, besides the recurrence of a medical thing that is annoying me. Ewoud is not a teenager. But he’s not an adult yet, at least not in his own mind. And a lot of me is saying “write him as an 18-year-old guy,” meaning modern. That would be relatively easy, given Day Job.

But that’s not Ewoud. He’s an 18-year-old medieval man with both parents still living. Very different world, and a very different character. Continue reading

Canada Day, 2018

Happy Canada Day to my northern readers!

We in the south sometimes forget how often Canadians have answered the call to defend freedom – WWI, WWII, Korea, and other occasions. For all her problems, Canada is still a beautiful country with a proud history.

*Raises a glass*

Memorial Day 2018

The tumult and the shouting dies;
The Captains and the Kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget – lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget – lest we forget!

From Rudyard Kipling’s “Recessional”

2018 marks the centenary of American military cemeteries outside of the United States. Madingly, Cambridge, England is the most haunting of those I’ve visited. Perhaps because in the far distance you can see Ely Cathedral half-floating over the Fens, the great marshes of eastern England.