What's love got to do with it?

 

June 20, 2026

Dear Diary... ... ...

It's been a hot minute since I've felt like making a blog entry, and I'm not sure why I felt like today was the day to check in, but here I am. Once again, I feel like I'm at a major life crossroad, and setting the words down in black and white seems to help me think. Some days I feel that all I have are the words and nothing else. 

What am I willing to settle for in these new days? That's the question plaguing me in the dark of many a solitary night. I jokingly told my girlfriends that if God wanted me to have a man in my life, He'd have to put one in my path. Weeell, it happened. I think. Sort of. It wasn't a new-to-me man, oh no. It was an old and dear friend from my youth. 

I know this man. Even as a very young woman, I saw into this man. To say he's a complicated person is a bit of an understatement. Then again, I'm a complicated woman. Libra and Gemini. Both are air signs and should be "a match made in heaven." If you believe in the astrological signs. 

It's scary to think my words brought him back into my life. Coincidence? I'd certainly think so except for the very specific way it happened. I was walking across a parking lot to enter a restaurant to meet my girlfriends for dinner and he stepped between me and the door. He actually stepped right into my path. We were both amazed and stood in the middle of that lot hugging each other, and it was a death grip hug, not just a friendly greeting. Go figure that one. 

Now I'm left to ponder what I really want. My years with Ron were good years up until the last two. I don't regret giving him the care he needed. But because of his health, my life lacked "fun." Am I ready for fun? Can I hold this new guy, keep it fun, and not get in over my head? How far do I risk my heart? 

These are only new questions to me. Every woman alive has probably stared at them and wondered how to answer them. It's simply my turn. 

Maybe the great Tina Turner had it right. What's love got to do with it? But then again, maybe he's simply the best, at least for me. 

KC Kendricks

2018 Retrospective - The Year It All Changed

December 31, 2018

We've notched another year under our belts. Seems like I just posted the 2017 retrospective. But then again, I did.

I've often said "live and learn" and "work smarter, not harder." To that end, I decided to try to be smarter this year and document the months as they pass. Did it seem to be a bit strange beginning a blog post that won't be out for eleven months? Yep.

January
Baby, it was cold outside! January 2018 brought frigid temps. My little sunroom office was chilly, even with an auxiliary heater. I wrapped up in a blanket and kept working - to a good end. Twice Removed From Yesterday, the twelfth book in the Men of Marionville collection was finished and subsequently released. I decided the three books I'd had out through a notorious now-defunct publisher could indeed be salvaged and re-released. What precipitated the decision? I saw a cover model sitting on the floor and knew he was perfect for one of the stories. Nothing like making more work for one's self.

February
The Snow Moon month arrived with snow. It's true! I settled down and worked on several projects including covers for three older Rayne Forrest titles. Getting The Rea Cheveyo Chronicles back out had been on the back burner for too long but I finally got there. I also decided it would be just fine to put both my pen names on the cover - Rayne Forrest and KC Kendricks. Why not? The covers turned out to be the best the trilogy ever had. That's what happens when you get to translate your own vision.

Also in February, I set to work going over one of the aforementioned titles from that "publisher that will not be named." After a lot of editing to the professional editor's work, A Perfect Hire was ready to go and I pushed the button. For more about A Perfect Hire, visit the page on my website.

March
After being on hiatus for many years, I made The Rea Cheveyo Chronicles available again. Kiana, Talyss, and Reza are older science fiction stories written under the pen name of Rayne Forrest. The middle story, Talyss, was an EPPIE finalist, something I'm quite proud of to this day. I decided to put both pseudonyms on the covers because of Amazon's unfair algorithms that punish books that don't sell x-number in a twenty-four hour period. These are for lovers of more traditional male/female romances. For lovers of GLBT and science fiction, I hear you. It may happen. Just remember it takes a long time to write a book.

I also learned to create an alien with light blue skin on the book cover is very challenging. Maybe I won't do that again.

March 20, the first day of spring, brought a snowstorm to my area. Ten inches of the white stuff fell. Spring? Really?  I don't think spring arrived "in real life" until March 28. That's when I heard the peeper frogs.

April
April started off with a whimper. Yes, I whined my way into April. I discovered that two years ago I forgot to format and load Loving Luke (Rayne Forrest title) at Amazon. As they say, "better late than never." Before much else got finished, Deuce fell sick. I don't need to tell anyone who loves their dog how distracting that can be. All is well now. The dog recovered faster than my wallet and my writing momentum. And while the WIP did advance, there was nothing much to do but move on to May.


May

Well, things got derailed a bit more in May. We put down new flooring in the kitchen and bathroom and it was a bitch of a job. Not enough of anything else got accomplished except getting the spousal unit in for an MRI on his back. I watched the royal wedding and surrounding hoopla and revamped the Hot August Comes cover. The story needs something more on the cover but I'm not sure of exactly what. The last week of the month is my annual spring vacation. You can read about that here.

June
What to say about June... I got a kitten and there I went. Off on a tangent. It's just he was so damn cute when I brought him home. The spousal unit and I took a major detour through Billy Bob Thornton's drama, "Goliath." I was unfamiliar with Billy Bob's body of work but I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed Goliath.

The spousal unit spent a couple of nights in the hospital and everything ground to a halt.

On the writing front, I took care of the business of writing but didn't get either work-in-progress completed. I had to be content with knowing I'm almost there. The level of writing output does correspond with this season of my life, that of caregiver to aging parents and an ailing partner. The end of this season will come all too soon as loved ones depart this world.

July
I almost got to the finish of Please Use the Door. I would have if the spousal units brothers hadn't come to town. Missed it by about fifteen hundred words - but it's all good. Finished it the first full week of August. I got two covers done for Christianne France and published a July/August newsletter. As I said, it was all good. I attended the wedding of a young cousin without the spousal unit. Much fun was had. What happens in Waynesboro stays in Waynesboro...

August
August was great! I shoved Please Use the Door out the door on the 13th, finished the new cover for Bored, Stroked and Blueprinted (it finally looks the way I want - yes!), and worked on Steel Wheels. We attended two family reunions and the wedding of the spousal unit's third grandson.

I'd been wanting to redo the covers on my Amethyst Cove series and I made the attempt in August. It's been a struggle to get just the right look but they say the third time's the charm. This set is the best yet.


September
September came wheeling in fast. The words started to flow on Steel Wheels and I made fast progress. It helped that I always take a week's vacation after Labor Day and so I was home.

By the end of the month, Steel Wheels was finished and ready to publish, and I'd spruced up the bathroom with a new countertop, faucet, backsplash, and a fresh coat of paint. Good month.

October
The month got off to a great start - I pushed the button to make Steel Wheels live. That precipitated the need to complete the next newsletter. One task always leads to another in my world. Then things came to a screeching halt when my stepfather fell and broke a hip. Welcome to my world.

November
Working out the wrinkles in a "new normal" is very time-consuming. My stepfather was moved to an assisted living facility and he may be there permanently. The spousal unit had all the necessary pre-operative testing necessary for his December 14 surgery.

Did I make much progress on the writing front? No, I did not. Am I happy about that? No, I am not. Such is life. All we can do is keep plugging away in sorry little drips and drops.

December
"I heard a bird sing in the dark of December - a magical thing and sweet to remember." - Oliver Herford

With the spousal unit having surgery, everything else stopped, even the day job the management of which I'm grateful to say allowed me to dip into my sick leave to have enough time off to be with him. He had two surgeries on his neck, one on December 14 and the other on December 17. As I'm completing this blog it remains to be seen if the surgeries will improve his quality of life. I rather have my doubts since he now has a rod fused in his neck. 

And while this year ends on low notes, I think Robert Plant summed it up best. 
"The mirror tries to please me, the image wouldn't stay, the stranger is too perfect to take my breath away. The future rides beside me - tomorrow in her hand. The stranger turns to greet me, and takes me by the hand."

The future is a stranger,  a mirror image of a new and unknown me, ready to lead me down the path I choose. Yes, I do see the choices, and while many are limited by the needs of others, there are still directions I'm free to choose. 

The Year of our Lord Two Thousand Nineteen will be a balancing act to take care of myself in the face of the demands of others. I'm strong, healthy, smart, and determined. That has been a winning combination for all the years of my life and it won't change now. 

I hope you'll stick around to see how it all unfolds.  

 _*_*_*_*_*_*_

 KC Kendricks

My home on the web- Between the Keys: 

http://kckendricks.blogspot.com

Visit my bookshelf at: 

https://kckendricks.blogspot.com/p/the-bookshelf-of-kc-kendricks-and-rayne.html

Social media links:

twitter.com/kckendricks

pinterest.com/kckendricks/boards

instagram.com/kc_kendricks

facebook.com/kckendricks

Life through the eyes of my black Lab, Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com

My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com

Snips and clips on my YouTube channel: KC Kendricks Between the Key

Looking out the window

August 28, 2016

August brings the anniversary of a personal milestone that generally goes unremarked. I've now lived in this same spot for thirty-five years - definitely more than half my life. It's almost two-thirds of my life, but I shall drop that thought and move on. 

Back in 1980, when my grandparents gifted me with three acres of land, it was completely wooded. I worked alongside grandfather, father, and then husband to clear an acre to drill a well, install a septic system, and build a house. It was hard, physical work and I regret none of it. 

Two-story dog trot log cabin.

I had a vision of a log cabin in the woods, but those people in my life at that time overruled me. That I do regret. I wanted - I still want - a log cabin. Specifically, I want a dog trot styled log cabin, or house, with its central breezeway, but I must be realistic. It's not something I'm likely to acquire at this point in my life. 

It's not that my little house in the woods isn't sufficient. It is. In many ways, it has shaped my lifestyle and I have few complaints about that. I have all that I truly need here. The house is easy to heat, cool and clean. The mechanical systems have been well maintained. My property is secluded and private, which makes it rather safe against some of the things that can happen in the world. If you're not visible, you're not a target. I think my grandparents knew that, which is why their only granddaughter got this particular piece of ground. My male cousins are subject to every manner of annoyances living beside a road. 

Which finally brings me to the unchanging view from my office window. 

My home office is my favorite room in the house. It's me. There was no compromise on wall color, flooring, rug, furniture and its placements, lighting, curtains and artwork. I spin stories in this room, travel via the wonders of the Internet, and I read and learn in this room. I share my innermost thoughts from this room. And yet I gaze out at the lush green of my backyard (so very green for the end of August!) and for the first time question is this all there is to see for the next thirty years? 

They say identifying a problem is the first step in solving the problem. My father and grandparents are gone, and soon so shall be my mother. My retirement income will follow me wherever I live. My husband of over twenty years would welcome a place that is his in ways this property never has been, its history being that of my family. There's nothing to hold me here if I choose to let go of roots and begin a new adventure elsewhere. 

Except, that is, the view through my window. 

KC 
www.kckendricks.com

_*_*_

Coming soon: Where There's Smoke by KC Kendricks
Part of the Men of Marionville collection

This kind of education

June 6, 2015

This kind of education is worth every cent. - from Paradise Cafe by Arc Angels

No, my recent education wasn't worth every cent. It was valuable, but way too expensive. I will be years reckoning with the cost. To what do I refer? My recent spring vacation. 

I've got a serious problem lurking over my shoulder. I picture it grinning in secret glee. 

My spring vacations have been a source of joy for many years. Last year I was positively manic during the week. This year, looking back on the week just past, I've got some hard questions to answer. Is this merely a bump on road or something serious? To what extent am I going to allow it to affect my plans? What can I do now?

You see, the man of the house has been retired for many years. Please understand it's not been wine and roses for him. A kidney transplant followed by two rounds of cancer caused him to enter his post-employment phase. It wasn't something he chose. The damage done by disease and treatment is irrevocable. He'll never be strong and able again. It's a frustrating situation for both of us. 

My vacation was a definite intrusion into his time and space. I get it. I really do. He's used to having his days to himself to do whatever the hell he wants to do, which is usually not much. I was home and I wanted to do things he did not. And so my education began. 

It's up to me to decide where I go from here. I'm unwilling to change my retirement plans to accommodate his reluctance to lose the solitude to which he's accustomed. That is to say, I'm unwilling to continue to work past the point when I can afford to retire and write full time. And so he must begin to adjust his thinking, too. How much noise does one make when writing? Just the clicking of the keyboard. I like quiet, too. Perhaps it's my presence he finds objectionable. See the problem?

There's a saying that I find very apropos for today. "If it is to be, it is up to me." That's pretty straightforward. I shoulder the responsibility for my happiness both for today and for all tomorrows. 

If it is to be, it is up to me.   

The passing of that one lover...

December 19, 2013

I suppose, having been with my spouse for twenty years, I shouldn't have some things marked on my calendar. You know - the birthdays of old boyfriends and dates special events happened with them. Like when they won the karate championship. That sort of thing. Maybe it's in bad taste. I don't really know. But there's one notation that pops up on my calendar every year on December 19 that I don't care if my partner knows about. I will not remove it: JRH, 2009.

It was foolish of me to believe old lovers, forever young and virile in my memory, would live forever. Life has proven to me they do not. It's also been proven that to mourn in private silence is unhealthy, yet in this instance that is my lot. Perhaps had I been able to mourn openly I'd be over the loss and this year I know I am not.

You know the story. It's a common one. Thirty or so years ago I met a man.... and we shared so much. The ending isn't one found in a romance novel. He wanted to travel a road I did not and I would not bend. He went one way and I went another. We saw each other, sporadically, and it was enough to know he was happy enough in his choices, one of which I may have forced upon him.

And then a mutual friend delivered the news - he was gone.  

It's odd to know I'll never meet him on the road again. I'd gotten used to suddenly looking in my rear view mirror and seeing the grill of his Chevy pickup about three inches from my bumper. He did it just to hear me yell profanities at him and he'd always laugh. I will always miss his grin and the quick kiss on my cheek he always gave me.

Life is full of loss, and it's what we do with those losses that shape and prepare us to handle the next one with more grace. I didn't get to say so many things to him, not even goodbye. I didn't get to tell him I wouldn't forget him and that every year I'd stop and remember the long talks we had and the secrets he told me. It is one of the few regrets I carry. 

His passing at the age of forty-nine reminds me to cherish the people I care about and to take the time to tell them they're important to me. I need to say the words as much as they need to hear them. Because I don't want to miss another chance to tell someone I care about them and they matter. 

KC

X is for What, X-actly, Do I Want?

It's All About the Books

Day 24

2013 A to Z Blogging Challenge

April 27, 2013

How do you like the title for today’s entry in the 2013 A to Z Blogging Challenge? Do you know that X is even more difficult the U to write a blog about????? At least it is for me.

Exactly what I want. It’s not about having my own way everyday of my life, although it would be nice to have that happen every once in a while. It’s not about shopping either. (Here again I wouldn’t say no to finding the perfect pair of boots and I know all you fellow boot lovers understand that very well.) It’s a lot deeper than the superficial day-to-day things in life.

Do any of us know what we really want? Deep down inside, what do we want? We all want to be healthy and happy, to have a loving spouse and family support, a weather-tight dwelling to call home and a job that brings satisfaction. But what else do we want? Tough question, isn’t it?

Think fast and remember the first thing that pops into your mind when you answer to this question I pose: What, exactly, do I want for my life?

Did the answer surprise you? Did it take sudden root within you? Are you brave enough to listen to that voice? Because if you are, your life will change and you’ll love it.

When I was in high school (in the way back time) a question frequently asked by faculty members was “What do you want to do with your life?” I never responded by saying I wanted to be a writer, but now I know a writer is X-actly what I want to be and who I am.

KC Kendricks

http://www.kckendricks.com