Rachael

The newest Cypress Hollow novel, Fiona's Flame, is out!    Fiona's Flame Amazon* | Kobo | B&N | iBooks | GooglePlay In Australia and New Zealand it looks like this:      Available HERE.  She's carried a torch for him for years. Now they're both feeling the heat…   As the owner of the Cypress Hollow gas station and garage, Fiona Lynde is not one for pretty dresses or fussy make-up. In fact, most days she forgets to brush her hair. But she does have one guilty little secret–she's been in love with Abe Atwell for over ten years.   The only problem? Abe-the town's handsome harbormaster-barely knows she exists.   But then Fiona petitions the council to demolish a deserted old lighthouse, just as Abe is equally determined to preserve the local landmark.   Why does Fiona want to tear down the building that was once her childhood home? And why is Abe, whose father drowned in the lighthouse's shadow, so desperate to save it?   Battle lines are drawn-just as the spark between them is finally ignited…   BOOK NOTE:  I really hope you all like this one. It was a joy to write. I'd honestly been wanting to write the girl-who-owns-a-gas-station story since I first started writing romance. And the knitting in this book is a little different from the knitting in any of my other books. And there's a possibility you'll see a cameo from my favorite horrible beast, Digit… Long live Digit!    Oh! And the audio version will soon be available! Keep your eye on this space! (Cora's Heart* is now available in audio, and I just LOVE my narrator, Barbara Edelman, who's a Real Knitter herself, and gets all the pronunciation right!)  UPDATE:  Lala and I are heading to Australia and New Zealand for a book tour (like, right NOW. We're probably on a plane! Don't break into the house, though, our housesitter is meaner than Digit was!). I would LOVE to meet you if you're near any of these places (newly added Auckland signing!).  BOOK TOUR: Sydney, Australia August 9, ARRA signing, 5pm, Olympic Park Christchurch, New Zealand August 13, reading, 3pm, Hornby Paper Plus Wellington, New Zealand August 16, reading/knitting, Holland Road Yarn, 1pm (Grand Arcade, Willis Street location) Auckland, New Zealand August 21, reading/signing, Orewa Library, 10am Melbourne, Australia August 23-24, Melbourne Writer's Festival, floating around! Danville, California, USA September 20, A Yarn Less Raveled, time TBA (Not coming near enough? Round up a group and Skype with me!)      *Amazon affiliate link

Popping in to say: 

• 4 hours of sleep a night isn't enough. I hate insomnia. But I'm working on it. (The problem I have with insomnia is that it isn't something I can tackle with sheer grit and determination, or I would have solved it years ago. The harder I try, the harder it gets. But I will get it.) 

• I'm going to nap today. That's a promise. If you get a chance, you should, too. 

• I love the book I'm finishing (Splinters of Light, out next year from Penguin, HOLY PREORDER BUTTON, that's early!). 

• I also adore the book that's coming out on August 1st, Fiona's Flame, the newest Cypress Hollow novel, and HEY, while you're thinking about it, you should add it to your Goodreads list (and enter the giveaway!). (US version*.) 

Okay, I'm going back to my imaginary beach to work on more words, and when I've scooped up enough of them and have made a couple of fantasy sandcastles, I'm going to stare off into space, because I'm actively trying to waste some time now and again (see last blog post). 

Next week: Texas, for RWA National! The week after that, Australia and New Zealand! MEEEEEP. 

* Oh! To answer a frequently asked question, yep, I'm self-publishing this in US/CAN, as I did with Cora's Heart. The books were contracted and professionally edited by my awesome editor at Random House Australia, and while my old American publisher (HarperCollins) offered to bring them out here in the US, they could only support doing so in digital form. So last year, I decided that if my books were only going to come out in e-format, I could do the same thing myself and make more money (while keeping the book price lower for you). And because I do it myself, I can actually offer the print form, which a lot of you, my dear readers, still like better. That's why there's no preorder link for the book, and also why you should be on my mailing list so you never miss any of the good stuff!

I’ve been beating myself up lately. I figured I’d just do it here publicly because you know what? I often admit things here, to you, and then I end up feeling better. I realize I’m normal. I’ve shown you depression, and despair, and grief, and debt. And after I do, I always feel better, because the black thing that claws at our souls is shame, and it can’t live in the light. Just speaking it aloud rips it apart into tiny jagged bloody pieces that shrivel up and then, mercifully, blow away. 

So here I go. 

I’ve been beating myself up for not getting enough work done. 

Yes, I work all the time, both at the day job and the writing job. But I still–always–have more to do, and worse: more that I planned to do. That’s the hardest part for me. Right now I’m writing this blog because I thought of the piece I’m supposed to finish writing, and I was exhausted by the very idea of facing it again. The reason I’m exhausted by thinking about it is because I haven’t had enough sleep. And the reason for that is because of the work. A dear friend told me, “It’s okay just to put one foot in front of the other. You don’t have to do two jobs at the same time.” That felt right, and good, and it made that tight place between my shoulder blades drop an inch or two. 

It’s like meditation. You’re here now. (No. Hi. *waggles fingers* I’m talking to you. YOU are here now (and your hair looks great, by the way). Your eyes are reading my words and because of that, because my fingers are moving, catching my thoughts, the thoughts you’re reading this very second, we have a connection. So I’m telling you, you don’t have to do anything right now but read. And breathe. Feel the air go into your lungs, and then let the air out. There. Wasn’t that nice? Let’s hang out like this more often.)

It’s okay to put one foot in front of the other. And more: it's okay to stop moving entirely. All living things need rest (and if this isn't true, if some scary cephalapod that lives on the ocean floor and changes skin to look like a different scary sea creature to protect itself doesn't actually need rest, please don't tell me, because I don't want to know). YOU need rest (this I know). 

All those other things I’m beating myself up for not doing (building the garden, eating the right things, sleeping enough, having a tidy-enough house), they’re all just an offshoot of Not Getting Enough Done.

It's said you can’t ever have enough money (oh, but I’d like to give it a shot!). It's true of time, too. You  never have enough time to do it all. Obviously, this is true in the tragic sense: young lives lost too early, old lives lost with yet more living to do; but it’s also true in the Today sense. I can’t (ever) do everything on my To Do list. JEEBUZ CHRISTO, I wish I could. On my ideal day I'd write five thousand words, have lunch with friends, walk the dogs, take a nap, tidy something, make a great meal, and do a craft of some sort. In the evening, I’d go on a date, see family and friends, host a dinner, and go to a movie, all the while getting to bed in time for eight hours of sleep. 

Put that way? It’s ludicrous. Of course we don’t have enough time. So let’s pare it down again. We have now. Your butt is planted exactly where it’s seated right now, unless you’re reading this on a bus or train, in which case you’re probably standing and your butt is swaying in front of someone’s newspaper (don't think about that). But you’re there, where you are. Right now. I’m here, in my chair. My fingers are warm, my toes are cold, and the smell of my garlic sweet potato fries is in the air. 

I’ve got time for THIS. For you. And apparently, you have a bit of time for me. That’s a very nice thing, indeed.

Two dogs Not Getting Much Done At All

 Let’s stop beating ourselves up. We won’t–because we can’t–get it all done today. I hereby give you permission to get less done than you wanted or planned to. And I hope that gives you the space to have something (a nap! a hug! an ice cream cone!) unexpected happen. Tell me about it if it does? 

Okay, so you know I love to share things I adore. I have two things (wait! Three! More?) to share today. 

1. Frugal Cell Phone Service

I've been ALL about the frugality lately, so much so that I'm selling things I don't need and not buying more of the same. Seriously, I want to retire young and happy and healthy, and I want Lala to be able to do the same, so we're really cutting back on everything we can in order to make that happen. Yes, it's fun to buy things we want! But it's even more fun to DO what we want. 

To that end: phone bill! We were paying Verizon $180/month for two phones with unlimited plans. That is a lot, and with our iPhones, there was no way to bring that plan down. That was their cheapest plan available for us (and I tried like heck to finagle things to lower it). 

Enter Republic Wireless. They have wireless plans for $5, $10, and $25/month. When I heard about them, I didn't think it could possibly be true and work well, which is why I've used it for a month before reporting back. 

But it's true. Because I chose the $10/month plan, I have an amazing phone, unlimited talk and text, and unlimited data whenever I'm on a WiFi system (which I am 95% of the time). To talk, it uses Sprint with Verizon as a backup when the Sprint coverage fails (which is good because in the Bay Area, Verizon is great everywhere, Sprint not so much). All of my calls have been crystal clear. Last week, when I was sick with the stomach flu, I watched Netflix and Hulu nonstop on my big Moto X screen, and it was phenomenal. 

And on Friday, when Lala and I were Official Tweeters for the San Francisco Opera's dress rehearsal of Show Boat (right??), I knew I might not be on WiFi, so I changed to the $25 plan so I could have unlimited data, too. You can change twice a month on the plan, with days prorated as you go. 

Dude. This is SO CHEAP. And SO AWESOME.

You do need a phone on their system (Moto G for $149 or Moto X for $299), which was a major stopper for me until I realized I could sell my iPhone for the same price as the Moto X, so it was basically like getting a free phone. Even with the $300 charge from Verizon to break my plan early, even with Lala not wanting to leave Verizon (or her iPhone) yet, we'll break even in three months and then save $110 a MONTH after that (I got her on a $60/month single phone plan).

It's not too good to be true. Check it out:

2. Bath Bombs

I do the research for you, aren't you happy? There's really nothing I love more than being up in the middle of the night, doing internet research on wacky things (luggage reviews on Amazon! My idea of heaven). And you reap the benefits of my research here, darlings. 

Lala and I love Lush bath products. They're gorgeous, they work great, and they smell wonderful. That said, one bath bomb runs $5 or $6 each. Even quartering them with a knife, that's a pricey bathing experience. 

So for Lala's birthday (WHICH IS TODAY!), I decided to try to make some really good ones. And I DID IT. These are fizzing, skin-softening bombs that even Lushophiles will love. 

I combined a couple of recipes, but my main inspiration was taken from Brenda Sharpe's great method, found archived here. 

Dry Ingredients:
Sift together in large bowl:
1 c. baking soda
1/2 c. citric acid
1/2 c. cornstarch
With whisk, add in:
1/3 c. epsom salts

Wet Ingredients:
In small shakeable container, combine:
2.5 tbsp light oil (almond/canola/sunflower)
3/4 tbsp water
1/4 tsp Vitamin E oil
1/4 tsp borax (an emulsifier)
Several drops food color
Several drops your favorite essential oil for fragrance
Shake it like it's your moneymaker!

Dribble the wet slowly into the dry, using a wooden spoon to mix. If it fizzes, you're going too quickly. When you're done mixing, it should resemble almost-dry sand. Pack into your mold of choice (I used this meatballer). Dry for a couple of days if possible before packaging, but they're definitely good for use that very night. (Pro tip: Pack tightly in meatballer, squeeze together, then use finger to push through top hole while opening the meatballer, then turn over and do the same on other side.)

Indulge with a long soak and good book.

3. Speaking of Good Books! 

Feralknitter Janine gave me a wonderful book called The Big Tiny. About a woman who changes her life from top to bottom as she builds herself a tiny house, it's exactly the kind of confessional memoir I love. If you like sitting on the porch swing and reading about minimalism more than actually cleaning out closets, this book is for you. 

Dee Williams’s life changed in an instant, with a near-death experience in the aisle of her local grocery store. Diagnosed with a heart condition at age forty-one, she was all too suddenly reminded that life is short, time is precious, and she wanted to be spending hers with the people and things she truly loved. That included the beautiful sprawling house in the Pacific Northwest she had painstakingly restored—but, increasingly, it did not include the mortgage payments, constant repairs, and general time-suck of home ownership. A new sense of clarity began to take hold: Just what was all this stuff for? Multiple extra rooms, a kitchen stocked with rarely used appliances, were things that couldn’t compare with the financial freedom and the ultimate luxury—time—that would come with downsizing.

 

4. Giveaway! 

I keep adding things! Woohoo! Hey, I have a new thing. Once a month, I give away a book to someone on my mailing list. The only way you'll know you've won is if you are told within the email itself, so make sure you're entered. This time I'm TOTALLY giving away a copy of The Big Tiny to some lucky someone. 

*Disclaimer: Some above links are affiliate links, because dude, I'm saving money! 

Hi friends, 

We have two more entries in the giveaway: Make an Alice's Embrace lap blanket/shawl for an Alzheimer's patient (full instructions here) and enter for a chance to win one of these THREE shawls! The first two were made and donated by Christian, and they're blocked and so gorgeous: 

 

I made this next one, and it's not blocked, but it's very warm and squooshy. 

Make a simple (quick!) blanket or shawl using Diane's instructions, mail it to her, let me know, and you're entered. Good odds. GREAT cause. 

BIKE UPDATE: 

This is ridiculous. I'm not getting over this bike bug I have. I made a pledge to do all my errands by bike for the month of May (once a week, I allow myself to take the car to get things like dog food and pick up big packages at the mailbox). And I have done it. A couple of times I thought I wouldn't (going from our house in East Oakland to the Grand Lake area takes about an hour each way), but then I made myself and loved it. Once I took bike-to-BART to attend the Oakland Museum food truck half-price-entry night, which was great, and I can see myself doing that a lot more. How fun to think about going to San Francisco on a bike! I will do that soon. Things I carried on one trip this week have included: A zucchini plant, a burrito (naturally), a food processor blade, and my computer. I love its versatility, and let's face it, my SmartCar isn't THAT much bigger. 

Right now, though, I'm a still a little scared of night riding. I have ALL THE LIGHTS: 

 but our neighborhood is not ideal for night rides. Friends of a friend (male and female riding together) got mugged at gunpoint the other night not too far away, and that freaks me out. I like to be brave and daring! I like to pretend I'm not frightened of anything and then, eventually, I'm not. Some folks would be nervous to ride in our area during the day, but I've gotten over that, and now, while I ride quickly past the sketchier stuff (drug deals in progress and hookers at work in cars while pimps stand guard), I've gained a whole new appreciation for the beautiful things in our neighborhood (small produce stands, fresh tortillas, kids playing basketball in the street, saying hello to people). 

But night makes the scary folks that much more scary (click on Christian's link, above, to read a terrifying night ride experience in Sacramento) and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. That sucks, because night riding sounds awesome. I would like to ride and look up at the stars. I'd like to go see friends and have dinner and get home under my own power. I'm just not ready to do so yet. I might never be, not here, anyway. I might change my mind, and I'm sure I'd feel better riding with a group (but not just one other person, see above mugging story). 

That's okay, though. It's almost summer, there are plenty of daytime riding hours, and now that Lala's bike is fixed (she's the original cyclist in the family – remember when she rode to LA on the AIDS ride?), I predict a lot of summer rides to the movies and, of course, to ice cream. 

For years now I've put together a Mother's Day drinks party at a local Oakland pub. The only ones invited are people who've lost their mothers, and we call it Dead Mother's Day. It's a place to go to be bitter about all the spam emails we've received ("Don't forget Mom!" As if we could.) It's fun, it's a bit more raucous than you'd think, and the bartender knows us now, knows why we're there year after year. 

This year I don't want to do it. I'm officially Unorganizing it. For the first time, I'm okay not being angry at the day. I'm still sad, mind you. I'll never not be that. 

But I'm not furious with Hallmark for promoting a day of shopping that serves to do nothing but rub my face in the fact that I'm motherless. I'm not as wildly jealous this year of those who send flowers to the mothers they still have. 

I'm just thankful I got the one I was dealt because she was the best, and I was lucky to have her. 

The way I honor her (every day–not just today because that's ridiculous) is that every book I write ends up being about mothers. 

My most recent book, Pack Up the Moon, is about a woman with a complicated history with her own mother.

Kate checked her cell. Stared at it. Clicked the button and scrolled right. Left. She pulled up the entry for Mom and pushed Call. It rang once, then the recording said, as it always did, “You’ve reached a number that has been disconnected or changed. If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again.” Once upon a time Kate could call her. In the year since her mother had died, Kate called the number at least twice a week.

Kate pushed the disconnect button and stopped the recording. Someday someone would answer the phone and she’d know that the number wasn’t hers to call anymore, but until then, it was.

 Kate loses her child (no spoilers; all this loss happens before the book starts), and with it, she loses the ability to mother. Then she finds the child she gave up for adoption, the girl who was adopted by two women. Was it really an accident that so many years ago Kate gave her own daughter double the number of mothers a girl usually has? 

Kate poured Pree the first cup, and then waited until there was enough to pour for herself. Pree pushed a blue-black curl out of her eye and then stared into her coffee cup as if she were having a hard time deciding whether or not to take the first sip. She was so beautiful. Young. Gorgeous in her casually-worn luminous skin. Alive. For one second Kate allowed herself to bask in this feeling of pride in a person she’d helped create. It had been a long time. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

What if, on the very small chance, Pree was here because she wanted to talk? What if she wanted something from a mother she’d never had, a mother she didn’t know?

Sternly, she reminded herself a child with two mothers doesn’t lack for maternal advice. But oh, God, if she did… There weren’t words in the English language to describe how she’d feel. The color didn’t exist that would paint the happiness it would bring.

To be a mother. That’s what Pree’s mothers had had, this whole time. Kate hadn’t been a mother in three years, and the urge to be one was almost overwhelming. The urge to touch Pree (to smooth the hair back off her face, to touch the tip of her perfect nose) burned in her knuckles and made her fingers twitch. It was ridiculous, not to mention socially and morally unacceptable. And still it was there, inside her, a feeling that might knock her down, physically, all the way to the ground.

It's a bit odd, the knowledge that I'll write about mothers and daughters for the rest of my writing career. You'd think it could be exhausted after a few books, but I've barely tapped what I know of it (wait till you read the next book, if you thought this one was mother-centric! Is this a good time to make sure you're on my mailing list so you don't miss it?). 

The love of a mother blazes with the sheer fury and wattage of the sun. A daughter radiates in it; she absorbs it. If she's lucky, the warmth is enough to sustain her her whole life, even when the sun goes out. 

I wish you a Happy Mother's Day, most especially to those of you shivering in that kind of cold. There are many of us who know how you're feeling today. Love to you. 

(Thanks, RedEnvelope, for inviting me to participate in the Mother's Day blog tour!)