May 26, 2019
Ah, those Twitter polls. Writers have taken to them like ducks to water. And I do confess those polls have taken the enjoyment out of Twitter. Well, that and the fact the nude photos of men don't show up in my feed any longer. It's a shame about that. Twitter shouldn't be in the censorship business. But I digress...
First poll this morning was about world building. Question: what profession(s) end life? My answer that I dare not post is - You're world building, for God's sake. Name it and claim it!
Second poll - how many hours do you write each day? My answer that I dare not post - When the fuck did this become a competition?
Third poll - What makes a better book? Writing in third person or first person? My answer that I dare not post - Why are we still wasting time chewing that bone? Write your story the way it speaks to you!
Okay, so you get where I'm coming from on this. Maybe.
I don't know if the people posing the questions are "new" writers or not. They're asking the same sort of questions that were asked almost twenty years ago when I got started, and it bugs the hell out of me. It seems those of us with experience haven't been good teachers.
Perpetuating the myth that a writer MUST produce a certain word count every day is damaging. Insisting a particular style of prose is better than another is perhaps a worse harm. The fall of so many publishers proves that out. Publishers always called for "fresh" and "unique" and then rejected it. They were afraid it wouldn't sell as well as Author Cookie-Cutter, but...how would they know? They lacked the metaphorical balls to find out and the indie author, et al., brought them down.
To the new writers out there who might one day read this - Write your story and write it your way. Don't waste time giving a flying fuck about what anyone else is doing. It's counter-productive. Learn the craft and embrace your voice. Not everyone will like it, but who cares? Enough people will enjoy your stories.
But if the writing of the story isn't enough to feed your soul, then re-evaluate. A poll on Twitter won't solve that problem for you.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
www.twitter.com/kckendricks
Come with me into a world where visions live, and life and love are met on my keyboard, down in the spaces between the keys...
Sunday, May 26, 2019
Twitter polls - and the answers I dare not provide
Tuesday, May 14, 2019
A life well lived
And the number of his days were accomplished.
My stepfather has left this world. He made my mother very happy, and that's the highest praise I could ever give him.
Jack had a terrible childhood. Think Charles Dickens and you wouldn't be far off. His mother died in childbirth due to the refusal of his father to believe the doctors and get her to a hospital when she went into labor. Consequently, Jack was raised by the women in a small, tight-knit community. His father paid various ladies to house and feed him, but he became everyone's dinner guest - and farm hand. He worked hard as a boy. His father drank himself to death when Jack was about seventeen and from then until he married my mother, he looked after his step-mother, a woman he came to respect.
He graduated from high school and immediately did a six-year stint in the Navy. He sailed around the world and to Antarctica twice. He didn't talk about it much because he didn't like life on a big boat. But the Navy taught him electronics and he eventually retired from one of the communications giants.
Mom had been widowed for ten years when she married Jack. They promised each other twenty happy years and that's about what they had. Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. Jack cared for her until we knew she needed a care facility. Caring for her took an enormous toll on him.
He went downhill after Mom left the house. He was lonely and depression set in. When he tripped over a throw rug and broke his hip, his decline was rapid.
I got the call this past Monday morning. The lady who cleaned his house found him beside the bed. It's not what I would have wished for him but we don't get to choose for ourselves much less anyone else. Passing on in his sleep would have been my preference. I wish that peace for everyone.
And so the arrangements are made. My mother will live out her days not knowing what happened and this is okay. Alzheimer's Disease is a horrible affliction. When I speak to her of Jack, she asks me, "who's that?" To tell her he's passed may bring an emotional upset that lingers. She would know she's upset but not remember why and so become even more upset. In the early days of her affliction, she spoke of the white fog. It must be a terrible place in which to dwell.
Now I come to the time to settle my stepfather's affairs. I agreed to it many years ago and I'm thankful it took so long to arrive. I'm more prepared than I was back in 1993. This too will be accomplished.
For all the trials and tribulations that came his way, Jack felt he'd had a good life. When all is said and done, we can't ask for more than that.
KC Kendricks
Friday, May 10, 2019
The exhausted writer
May 10, 2019
** updated** This book got a new title: Memphis. There WILL be a July Heat soon.
The only way to write, really write, is to rip your chest open and bleed the words. Does that sound too dramatic? Sure it does. Bleeding words is problematic. It hurts. Pain is drama. Life can sometimes be painful. It all feeds into the ability to write.
Being too tired tobleed write, I've been reading, devouring books at a rate of about one every other day. It's escapism, plain and simple. I'm hiding from the rigors of caregiving. If fortune smiles upon us, May 24 will see a reversal in my husband's decline. Another surgery is scheduled for that morning to relieve pressure on his spinal cord. I pray the last MRI doesn't find yet another spot where bone and calcium are building up. I need this long process to be complete.
I need to finishJuly Heat Memphis. I don't simply WANT to, I NEED to. It's almost a visceral thing. My load would be lightened if I could just get that story finished. One of the problems is every time I sit back with a cup of coffee or tea to think about the plot, I come up with a new idea for a passage I could make better. I can't walk away from those ideas. They have merit.
They have merit, but constantly tweaking the story is just as exhausting as caring for my partner during this pre-surgery time. Men are needy things. Mine used to be a lot more stoic.
Writing is how I decompress from my life. It smoothes out the rough spots of the day. I forget about the people I work with and their ill-advised decisions when I write. Hell, I even stop laughing at the political arena when I write and we all know there is a lot to laugh at these days. If I thought I would or could write coherent passages, I'd be working on the book now. Instead, I'm rambling.
And that proves my point. Exhausted writers write exhausted prose, and we can't have that.
** updated** This book got a new title: Memphis. There WILL be a July Heat soon.The only way to write, really write, is to rip your chest open and bleed the words. Does that sound too dramatic? Sure it does. Bleeding words is problematic. It hurts. Pain is drama. Life can sometimes be painful. It all feeds into the ability to write.
Being too tired to
I need to finish
They have merit, but constantly tweaking the story is just as exhausting as caring for my partner during this pre-surgery time. Men are needy things. Mine used to be a lot more stoic.
Writing is how I decompress from my life. It smoothes out the rough spots of the day. I forget about the people I work with and their ill-advised decisions when I write. Hell, I even stop laughing at the political arena when I write and we all know there is a lot to laugh at these days. If I thought I would or could write coherent passages, I'd be working on the book now. Instead, I'm rambling.
And that proves my point. Exhausted writers write exhausted prose, and we can't have that.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_
KC Kendricks
My home on the web- Between the Keys:
Visit my bookshelf at:
Social media links:
Life through the eyes of my black Lab, Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com
Monday, April 22, 2019
Omegaverse romance
April 22, 2019Easter is over for another year. It was quiet at my house - save for the sounds of coughing and nose blowing. Himself was felled first by pollen and then by some nasty sinus malady. He's on the mend so I'm hopeful life will get back to normal.
Whatever the hell normal is for my life. I really don't know.
Caregiving is not something that comes naturally to me. Waiting hand and foot on an ailing man is not my idea of fun. To amuse myself, I loaded the Kindle with a few books to expand my horizons. A while back my partner-in-writing, Christiane France, mentioned she'd picked up an mpreg on the recommendation of a friend. I thought I'd check it out and get the scoop. My goodness.
After a bit of shopping, I settled on Slow Heat by Leta Blake as my introduction to the land of the alpha and omega non-shifter. Good choice. The book was well-written and the story solid. I can see why mpreg has a following. It's...interesting. If you have a chance to purchase a copy of Slow Heat and its sequel Slow Burn, you should do so. The stories suspend reality with no apologies giving just enough information of how the omega/alpha came to be without insulting the reader on any level. Sorry, no spoilers, as I haven't asked for author permission to post any excerpts.
I enjoyed taking a break from writing. Spending several evenings away from the computer was surprisingly restful, but it won't continue. I need to get back to the prose. I'm in the meaty part of the work-in-progress and the end is in sight. It's time to buckle down and get busy.
But maybe I can read one more book before I start composing. Just one more. After all, reading is an important exercise for a writer.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
Saturday, April 6, 2019
Wisdom a mom again at 68
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| Akeakamai and his chick |
Wisdom, the Laysan albatross, and the world's oldest known banded bird, is a remarkable 68 years old. She and her mate, Akeakamai (which means "lover of wisdom") hatched another egg in February. You just know he has to be a younger fellow.
I first discovered Wisdom in 2011. Her story is fascinating to many nature lovers. She was banded on Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge in 1956 by a guy named Robbins. She was already five or six years old at the time. Many years later, in 2002, Robbins went back to Midway Atoll and re-sighted her. Apparently, Wisdom had been missing for those many years in between.
Her story gets even better. Wisdom and her consorts, of which there have been a few, have successfully raised at least 35 chicks. Wisdom and Akeakamai have produced an egg every year since 2006, another odd feat considering the Laysan albatross typically lays every other year.
I know that someday I'm going to check in on Wisdom and find she's missing again. Considering her age, the next time may be for good. It'll be a sad day but nothing can erase the story of this singular life and the joy she brings to millions simply by being herself.
Live long and prosper, Wisdom.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
Some Laysan albatrosses are dying as chicks after being fed small pieces of plastic. The plastic builds up in their stomachs until they can't eat and they starve to death. No one has to turn into a recycling fanatic to make a difference by being aware within their daily life. All of us doing what we can when we can does have a long-term impact.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Running the numbers
April 2, 2019We Americans like numbers. Everything is all about the numbers, even the money. Big numbers are good, and small numbers are bad. Hmm. Not always.
This morning I checked in with my retirement countdowns. Folks, it's getting scary. Having already passed the first number, that being December 31, 2018, I'm working on the second. That rolls up in sixty days.
How did I choose the numbers/dates? The first one wasn't arbitrary. It was the earliest day I could financially afford to retire. The numbers dictated 12/31/18. The problem with that one was the size of my slush fund. As I contemplated depleting that fund of several thousand dollars over the course of five months, I started to wheeze. Seriously. Going from a saver to a spender might kill me.
The picture is for age sixty-two. A lot of Americans retire at sixty-two. I could be one of them if I choose to be. After this one, the next number is for the twenty-year mark at my current job. That is another 456 days in the future. Age sixty-five? That's pushing twelve hundred days or over 3 years. That one seems a bit daunting. Or is it depressing?
Maybe it's time to break a rule I've held fast and firm to since 2003. With very few exceptions I've not written prose while at the day job office. But things change.
Now don't get excited. I work in a private 501(c)3. We do not get government money so I'm not wasting taxpayer dollars. But as this trend has developed, along with a few others, I question whether or not I need to be at the day job forty hours a week. Going to a four-day week would solve a lot of problems for me. It would also be more cost effective for my employer.
All these numbers staring me in the face are distracting. I can't shake them off. I can't ignore them. I'd like to make peace with them but so far I've failed that endeavor. Seeing the days click off, seeing the numbers shrink, brings up that natural fear of change. It's the complete opposite of what I expected. I expected to be gleeful and chomping at the bit to attain my freedom.
I should have known. Nothing in my life has ever gone as planned.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
kckendricks.blogspot.com
twitter.com/kckendricks
facebook.com/kckendricks
Saturday, March 30, 2019
A Hard Habit to Break - a new look
March 30, 2019
True spring has arrived! I arrived home from bowling last night to a chirpy serenade. It was lovely - truly music to my ears. The little peeper frogs, our heralds of spring, are awake and that means cold weather is past.
I had a bit of a break at the day job this past week, so I opted to play with Photoshop once again. Updating covers is a fun endeavor. I like to use the original background, if possible, in a new way. It's also good to keep the original guy, again if possible. So the cover is new but it's not.
It's a bit of a search to find stock photos that really appeal to me. It would be easier to snatch something free, but the resolution wouldn't be as good.
Back posts here at Between the Keys have been updated. Now I need to do that to the website and at the third-party vendors.
A Hard Habit to Break. Friends who grew up together, lost each other, and finally found their way back to each other and happiness.
_ _ _ _ _
It’s time for Travis to choose – the love of his best friend, or a life of settling for second best.
True spring has arrived! I arrived home from bowling last night to a chirpy serenade. It was lovely - truly music to my ears. The little peeper frogs, our heralds of spring, are awake and that means cold weather is past.
I had a bit of a break at the day job this past week, so I opted to play with Photoshop once again. Updating covers is a fun endeavor. I like to use the original background, if possible, in a new way. It's also good to keep the original guy, again if possible. So the cover is new but it's not.
It's a bit of a search to find stock photos that really appeal to me. It would be easier to snatch something free, but the resolution wouldn't be as good.
Back posts here at Between the Keys have been updated. Now I need to do that to the website and at the third-party vendors.
A Hard Habit to Break. Friends who grew up together, lost each other, and finally found their way back to each other and happiness.
_ _ _ _ _
As the reigning stud of the local gay club scene, every guy in the county knows Travis Templeton, and vies for his attention. Travis wears his crown lightly, careful not to break any hearts. He knows what it’s like to really love someone who doesn’t love you back-at least, not in the way you want.
Heath Kelley made the biggest mistake of his life the night before his best friend Travis left for college. One small action snowballed into years of silent misunderstanding and empty distance. When Heath accepts a transfer that sends him to his hometown, he doesn’t know Travis has moved back home, too. It doesn’t take long for the men to reconnect.
Admitting they never stopped thinking of each other as “best friends” is easy. Forgiveness of past sins is easy, but confessing their secrets comes harder. When Heath discovers the truth about Travis’ private life, the newly repaired bonds of friendship are stretched taut.
A HARD HABIT TO BREAK is available at:
Available now at Amazon
iTunes
NOOK
KOBO
KC Kendricks
My home on the web- Between the Keys:
Visit my bookshelf at:
Social media links:
My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com
Life through the eyes of Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
Friday, March 22, 2019
Spring Equinox 2019
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| March 21, 2019, at noon |
Spring has sprung, so they say. As welcome as it is I will still complain and say it was a long time getting here. I've been waiting for months!
My mother and I both grew up country girls through and through. Her father was born in 1910 and his mother in 1886. They were even more country, working the land to feed family and have income. My grandfather religiously purchased an Almanac every year and planted by the signs. Mom and I had outside employment and so we planted when we had time, but that's another tale.
Mom and I didn't bother with astronomical signs but we did pay attention to the weather. Here in western Maryland, the vernal equinox brings rain. We watched and observed, and discussed the occurrence. Spring can be as early as March 19 or as late as March 21, but on one of those days, there will be precipitation. This year, the weatherman said the rain would begin around five p.m. on March 20. Coincidentally, the official start time for Spring was 5:58 DST, so maybe the weather folks were hedging their bets. The rain actually began at six a.m. on March 21 and lasted for about twenty-four hours.
Being curious about many trivial matters, I went to wikipedia to find out why it is it always rains at the vernal equinox.
I still don't know. Subsolar points? Time slippage? Sidereal time? Right ascension? Refraction of light rays? Equal amounts of day versus night? Whatever.
All I know is the old adage passed down from a woman born in 1886 has once again proven true. It rained like hell at the vernal equinox.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
http://kckendricks.blogspot.com
twitter.com/kckendricks
facebook.com/kckendricks
pinterest.com/kckendricks
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
The Right Brew - updated new cover
March 19, 2019
Cross another item off the "someday list!" I made a new cover for The Right Brew (Book 9 in the Men of Marionville collection). I'm much happier with this one than the original. The original was made at a time when I was just learning how to create covers in Photoshop. I have a much better feel for it now.
Will this be the last cover for The Right Brew? I don't know. Experience says it might not be. Let me get too bored at the day job and I start misbehaving (a.k.a. doing my own thing). But this one will certainly do for the next while.
Here's a bit about The Right Brew. Enjoy!
_*_*_
Hollis Milnor didn’t think twice about moving to Marionville. His ailing cousin needed his help running his nightclub, Frolic, and Hollis needed to put some space between himself and an ex-boyfriend determined to make his life miserable. Management skills he has. Experience running a nightclub, not so much, but he’s a quick learner.
Caleb Brewer is a steady, hard-working man establishing a microbrewery. He’s got a great product and demand for it is growing. When a new manager takes over the hottest nightclub in Marionville, Caleb is determined to maintain his prior arrangements.
What starts out as business quickly heats up the summer nights. Hollis hesitates, reluctant to step over the legal line. Caleb isn’t just a vendor. He works part-time at the nightclub. Becoming involved puts them both in murky waters, waters that become crystal clear when the past catches up with Hollis and puts everyone he loves in danger.
EXCERPT
“Caleb. Come in and sit down.” I motioned at a chair. “Something wrong?”
He eased down in the wing chair and stretched out his long denim-encased legs. “Did we sorta get off on the wrong foot here? I can’t afford to have that happen.”
I gave him points for directness. He didn’t aim to come off as being abrupt. He simply kept everything right out front. I liked that.
“I know. It’s my fault, Caleb, and I’m sorry. I’m here to manage the nightclub, not get personally involved with any of the men working within the business end of things.”
He studied me for a moment, and then nodded. “Fair enough. I thought that might be it, but I wanted to be sure that’s all it was. Now I need to ask you this.” He took a deep breath. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I’d like to talk about some business.”
He would, would he? I admit getting involved with the hired help wasn’t a good idea and he comes back with an invitation to dinner?
We could talk ideas and possibilities for our respective ventures right now. We didn’t need food, wine and the privacy of a crowded restaurant, but what better way to learn more about him? A wave of goosebumps fluttered over my back.
“I guess I do need to eat sometime.”
His blue gaze locked on mine. “I think I like that you had to consider it. Too much impulse can lead a man astray.”
Oh, hell, yeah. “Is that where you’d like to go? Astray?”
A smile teased the corner of his mouth. His eyes sparkled with humor. “I’ve been there before so I know which road not to take.”
“Same here. Tell me something. How long have you been connected with Frolic?”
“Not long. Maybe a year. Why?”
I grinned at him. “You might have information useful to me.”
He rolled his eyes and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “And that, Caleb Brewer, is why the man agreed to have dinner with you.”
I chuckled. “Talk to yourself often, do you? I like to keep things above board, too. So, yeah, I’m going to ask you a bunch of questions, but I think I’ll really enjoy having dinner with you.”
“I get it, and it’s okay. So how about I meet you about seven o’clock? At The Wharf? It’s the best place in town.”
“I’ve heard about the place. Give me your phone number in case something happens and I can’t get away on time. I can at least let you know I’m running late and why.”
We exchanged cell numbers and he held his hand out as he stood to leave. I reached out and his fingers closed around mine. The shock of his warm palm against mine turned my arm to lead. He let go of me.
“It’s not a date, Hollis. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
He walked out of the office while I stood watching his retreating backside. It wasn’t until he’d disappeared I realized I rather wished it were.
THE RIGHT BREW
Cross another item off the "someday list!" I made a new cover for The Right Brew (Book 9 in the Men of Marionville collection). I'm much happier with this one than the original. The original was made at a time when I was just learning how to create covers in Photoshop. I have a much better feel for it now.
Will this be the last cover for The Right Brew? I don't know. Experience says it might not be. Let me get too bored at the day job and I start misbehaving (a.k.a. doing my own thing). But this one will certainly do for the next while.
Here's a bit about The Right Brew. Enjoy!
_*_*_
Hollis Milnor didn’t think twice about moving to Marionville. His ailing cousin needed his help running his nightclub, Frolic, and Hollis needed to put some space between himself and an ex-boyfriend determined to make his life miserable. Management skills he has. Experience running a nightclub, not so much, but he’s a quick learner.
Caleb Brewer is a steady, hard-working man establishing a microbrewery. He’s got a great product and demand for it is growing. When a new manager takes over the hottest nightclub in Marionville, Caleb is determined to maintain his prior arrangements.
What starts out as business quickly heats up the summer nights. Hollis hesitates, reluctant to step over the legal line. Caleb isn’t just a vendor. He works part-time at the nightclub. Becoming involved puts them both in murky waters, waters that become crystal clear when the past catches up with Hollis and puts everyone he loves in danger.
EXCERPT
“Caleb. Come in and sit down.” I motioned at a chair. “Something wrong?”
He eased down in the wing chair and stretched out his long denim-encased legs. “Did we sorta get off on the wrong foot here? I can’t afford to have that happen.”
I gave him points for directness. He didn’t aim to come off as being abrupt. He simply kept everything right out front. I liked that.
“I know. It’s my fault, Caleb, and I’m sorry. I’m here to manage the nightclub, not get personally involved with any of the men working within the business end of things.”
He studied me for a moment, and then nodded. “Fair enough. I thought that might be it, but I wanted to be sure that’s all it was. Now I need to ask you this.” He took a deep breath. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I’d like to talk about some business.”
He would, would he? I admit getting involved with the hired help wasn’t a good idea and he comes back with an invitation to dinner?
We could talk ideas and possibilities for our respective ventures right now. We didn’t need food, wine and the privacy of a crowded restaurant, but what better way to learn more about him? A wave of goosebumps fluttered over my back.
“I guess I do need to eat sometime.”
His blue gaze locked on mine. “I think I like that you had to consider it. Too much impulse can lead a man astray.”
Oh, hell, yeah. “Is that where you’d like to go? Astray?”
A smile teased the corner of his mouth. His eyes sparkled with humor. “I’ve been there before so I know which road not to take.”
“Same here. Tell me something. How long have you been connected with Frolic?”
“Not long. Maybe a year. Why?”
I grinned at him. “You might have information useful to me.”
He rolled his eyes and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “And that, Caleb Brewer, is why the man agreed to have dinner with you.”
I chuckled. “Talk to yourself often, do you? I like to keep things above board, too. So, yeah, I’m going to ask you a bunch of questions, but I think I’ll really enjoy having dinner with you.”
“I get it, and it’s okay. So how about I meet you about seven o’clock? At The Wharf? It’s the best place in town.”
“I’ve heard about the place. Give me your phone number in case something happens and I can’t get away on time. I can at least let you know I’m running late and why.”
We exchanged cell numbers and he held his hand out as he stood to leave. I reached out and his fingers closed around mine. The shock of his warm palm against mine turned my arm to lead. He let go of me.
“It’s not a date, Hollis. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
He walked out of the office while I stood watching his retreating backside. It wasn’t until he’d disappeared I realized I rather wished it were.
THE RIGHT BREW
Available at iTunes/Apple
Available at Amazon
Available at Barnes and Noble/NOOK
Available at KOBO
KC Kendricks
Sunday, March 17, 2019
A point to ponder from Pinterest
March 17, 2019
Like what is apparently billions of other folks, I enjoy surfing Pinterest. There are so many pearls of wisdom to be found - it's truly incredible. I found this one the other day and I confess my sense of humor loved it, so much so I decided to share it here.
Think about it...
And if you're in the mood, check out my Pinterest board called, "Every Picture Tells a Story."
KC
Like what is apparently billions of other folks, I enjoy surfing Pinterest. There are so many pearls of wisdom to be found - it's truly incredible. I found this one the other day and I confess my sense of humor loved it, so much so I decided to share it here.
Think about it...
And if you're in the mood, check out my Pinterest board called, "Every Picture Tells a Story."
KC
Thursday, March 7, 2019
A new cover for Kentucky 98 Proof
March 7, 2019It's a human commonality. We all say it and there is no point in denying it. "I'll get around to it one day."
Today I "got around" to something I've wanted to do for a long day. Blame it on a slow day at the day job. It's difficult to get a lot done when you're 1)waiting on other people, and 2)a guy is operating a ram-hoe and breaking up the sidewalk outside your office window. The noise and vibrations were too intense to work with numbers, so I amused myself and made a new cover for Kentucky 98 Proof. It turned out great if I do say so myself.
Having made the cover, I went on to make a Twitter promo card. I even updated the cover on old blog entries here at Between the Keys.
After that, I uploaded the new cover to Amazon and other vendors. Talk about being on a roll! Once I made it home, I updated my website and now I'm spreading the word in a new blog post.
Yep. I nailed it today!
KC
https://kckendricks.blogspot.com/p/kentucky-98-proof-by-kc-kendricks.html
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Intrinsic value
March 3, 2019Say that something has "intrinsic value" and you may get two different reactions. Some people will smile and nod, and some will give you a blank stare. Intrinsic is quite subjective. Something I think has intrinsic value will have no value of any sort to someone else. Of course, the Internet tells me this little Scottie dog is worth at least $24 on Etsy.
I very much doubt my great-grandparents paid even a penny for this. Carnival glass, or "Iridill," was created by the Fenton company sometime around 1910. Tiffany had a similar process and so the Fenton glass didn't sell for top dollar. That being the case, Fenton discontinued Iridill. The older women in my family possessed a great liking for Fenton and many, many pieces have come to me.
These days Fenton glass, while collectible, isn't a consistent high-dollar value. The odd piece may fetch hundreds, but the research into the pieces I own shows an average value of $20.
So I'm down to the intrinsic value of each. How do you put a monetary value on something that your great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother all touched? I can't. I don't even want to try.
The little Scottie dog is a link to my childhood and to a small, stoop-shoulder woman with long white hair that she tucked up into a traditional Brethren prayer covering (a little white bonnet). She died when I was eleven but I do have strong memories of her.
Today the Scottie sits on the same desk it rested upon in her home. Desk and dog are in my writing office, along with other family items. To the south, through the trees, I can still see the old homeplace, so the Scottie hasn't traveled too far. To me, the connections are comforting.
Intrinsic value.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendrics.com
Sunday, February 24, 2019
When the ducks turn stubborn
February 24, 2019

For the official record, I am sick to death of rain. I live on the side of a mountain and yet my yard looks like a swamp. It's not difficult to figure out - all the water above drains through here on its way to the creeks below. The joke is on me. Come summer, I need to round up the cousins and add an extra swale in the back yard. Provided, of course, it dries up enough to get the John Deere in the back yard without it sinking up to the axles.
You'd think all the rain would be conducive to productive writing. Again, and I repeat, the joke is on me. I've spent these few early days of 2019 managing the health care of husband and stepfather. That endeavor has left little time for my own pleasurable pursuits. I finally broke down and made arrangements to pay (out of pocket) for someone to transport my stepfather to all his doctor visits. I've missed far too much work to be comfortable about it. More importantly, the simple act of asking for help has already lifted some weight from my shoulders.

The Grammarly project has been moving along. I took a sanity break this past week and did some "fluff" reading. I call it that because I'd read the books before - The Chanur series by C.J. Cherryh. It was a revisitation to old friends from the 1980s. I understand why the author stopped at five books, but I'd love to read how things worked thirty years later for all involved.

I decided it was time to set aside my dislike of Facebook and start some promo there. I got a spam email from some company offering to "promote your book on over 100 Facebook groups." And then it actually listed the groups. Yep. I copied the list and set myself the task of checking out each one and joining if appropriate. Thanks for the tip and not sorry you won't get any money from me.
I continue to enjoy messing around with Photoshop. Some samples of the promo cards I've made are posted here.
We're almost to the end of February and I've not produced a Jan/Feb newsletter. It's like entries for the Between the Keys blog. What do I have to crow about if I've done...not much?? The behind the scenes work is pretty boring although fellow authors and informed readers will understand completely. Sometimes those damn ducks will not form a neat row!

For the official record, I am sick to death of rain. I live on the side of a mountain and yet my yard looks like a swamp. It's not difficult to figure out - all the water above drains through here on its way to the creeks below. The joke is on me. Come summer, I need to round up the cousins and add an extra swale in the back yard. Provided, of course, it dries up enough to get the John Deere in the back yard without it sinking up to the axles.
You'd think all the rain would be conducive to productive writing. Again, and I repeat, the joke is on me. I've spent these few early days of 2019 managing the health care of husband and stepfather. That endeavor has left little time for my own pleasurable pursuits. I finally broke down and made arrangements to pay (out of pocket) for someone to transport my stepfather to all his doctor visits. I've missed far too much work to be comfortable about it. More importantly, the simple act of asking for help has already lifted some weight from my shoulders. 
The Grammarly project has been moving along. I took a sanity break this past week and did some "fluff" reading. I call it that because I'd read the books before - The Chanur series by C.J. Cherryh. It was a revisitation to old friends from the 1980s. I understand why the author stopped at five books, but I'd love to read how things worked thirty years later for all involved.

I decided it was time to set aside my dislike of Facebook and start some promo there. I got a spam email from some company offering to "promote your book on over 100 Facebook groups." And then it actually listed the groups. Yep. I copied the list and set myself the task of checking out each one and joining if appropriate. Thanks for the tip and not sorry you won't get any money from me.
I continue to enjoy messing around with Photoshop. Some samples of the promo cards I've made are posted here. We're almost to the end of February and I've not produced a Jan/Feb newsletter. It's like entries for the Between the Keys blog. What do I have to crow about if I've done...not much?? The behind the scenes work is pretty boring although fellow authors and informed readers will understand completely. Sometimes those damn ducks will not form a neat row!
KC Kendricks
My home on the web- Between the Keys:
Visit my bookshelf at:
Social media links:
My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com
Life through the eyes of Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
Saturday, February 9, 2019
Bookish Moods and AI
A lot has been going on in my corner of the world. The spousal unit continues to improve following neck surgery. How long this will last I can't guess. The occupational therapist has him taking things out of MY cupboards and putting them back - the Medicare dollar at work. The first time he breaks something, I'm taking a day off work to break her.
My stepfather is whining about not being able to drive. Does he really think I'm enjoying doing his grocery shopping and hauling his arse to doctor appointments? Nooooooo. This morning my duties include taking his trash to the landfill. Fun? Nooooo.
At the day job, the boiler failed. Half the building has no heat. All of the interiors of the building is
covered in a layer of fine soot. Luckily, my area is heated/cooled by a heat pump. My office was far enough away from the furnace to be barely impacted. I dusted, changed the air filter, and got back to work. Instead, I should have milked it into working at home for a week.
On the writing front, the Grammarly project has hit about twenty percent completed. The

Amethyst Cove books are finished, as are A Friendly Neighbor, A Perfect Hire, Lightning Shifts, Desert Snow, Doors of Time, Eye of the Beholder (I must get that uploaded today), The Ghost at the B andB, Hey Joe, and Passion's Victory. I don't know if it's vitally important to my readers that I'm doing this exercise, but it matters to me. It's feeding all those author-ish masochistic tendencies about how foolish it was to pay for "professional" editing. I know I learned a lot from working with editors but you know how we all gripe about those things we view through hindsight.
Not that the Grammarly system is perfect - far from it. It can take off with you in the middle of a correction and drop you pages away. Very annoying. That little glitch might be adding problems if the system fails to go back and pick up that spot. The major plus is I feel better about the books because I'm at least attempting to improve them.

I'm sure the Grammarly folks will continue to improve their product. After all, we should all write in one voice, shouldn't we? Therein lies a rub. We should not. We should all sound like ourselves. A comma here or a comma there is not as important as an individual voice. I see that in the number of "suggestions" I decline to accept, especially in dialogue. People should sound like people, not echoes of the robotic.
Cautiously embracing artificial intelligence makes me feel like a sell-out. It goes against one of my core values that says individuals are more important than the tools they use. On the other hand, this tool may have earned its place in the writer's arsenal. I suppose like any other tool, it's all in how you use it.
But enough finger chatter (that's my current slang for typing). Daylight has arrived and my coffee cup is empty. I need to upload the updated Eye of the Beholder manuscript and maybe even get Bored, Stroked, and Blueprinted back out before the demands of the day crash down on my head.
Because once I've fulfilled my responsibilities to dog, cat, spouse, and stepparent, I'm going to close the door and hide in my office. I may even get some new writing done. Or should that word be accomplished? Where's the AI when you need it?
KC Kendricks
My home on the web- Between the Keys: http://kckendricks.blogspot.com
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My country life at Holly
Tree Manor
Sunday, January 20, 2019
Learn, live, learn more
January 20, 2019
The new year is off to a...
The new year has officially begun. Yippe-ki-ay. I've yet to have any fun in 2019, and I'm not very happy about that. Between work and doing the caregiver act, I've not had time. To top it off, I settled down to do some reading one chilly night, and finding nothing new that struck my fancy, I reread one of my own works. Big mistake. Huge.
Apparently, I'm a lot pickier now than I used to be. Or maybe it's that I've learned a lot. I suppose it doesn't matter. After finding a glaring mistake, I knew I had to rework the manuscript and upload a corrected version. It looks like 2019 will be the year of Grammarly.
I've used the free version for some time. An email came offering a substantially reduced rate for one year, and I took the Pro version. The first manuscript I ran through was Double Deuce. I paid sixty percent of the sales to a publisher to have that book "professionally" edited. Grammarly Pro found one hundred fifty-six critical issues. That's 156 for those of you who love numerals.
I didn't love it at all. I gave up several thousand dollars to the humans, and artificial intelligence outdid them all. It doesn't make me happy to think about that.
What does make me happy is the chance to go through the old stories and update them. I'm not sure it matters to anyone else, but it matters to me. It'll be especially nice to have the current WIP be neat and tidy from the start.
That's the thing about writing. It's a constant learning experience. It's a profession where the writer continually strives for improvement. My motto, if I have one, is "learn something new every day."
In the Year of our Lord Two Thousand Nineteen, it may be "improve something every day." I can live with that.
The new year is off to a...
The new year has officially begun. Yippe-ki-ay. I've yet to have any fun in 2019, and I'm not very happy about that. Between work and doing the caregiver act, I've not had time. To top it off, I settled down to do some reading one chilly night, and finding nothing new that struck my fancy, I reread one of my own works. Big mistake. Huge.
Apparently, I'm a lot pickier now than I used to be. Or maybe it's that I've learned a lot. I suppose it doesn't matter. After finding a glaring mistake, I knew I had to rework the manuscript and upload a corrected version. It looks like 2019 will be the year of Grammarly.
I've used the free version for some time. An email came offering a substantially reduced rate for one year, and I took the Pro version. The first manuscript I ran through was Double Deuce. I paid sixty percent of the sales to a publisher to have that book "professionally" edited. Grammarly Pro found one hundred fifty-six critical issues. That's 156 for those of you who love numerals.
I didn't love it at all. I gave up several thousand dollars to the humans, and artificial intelligence outdid them all. It doesn't make me happy to think about that.
What does make me happy is the chance to go through the old stories and update them. I'm not sure it matters to anyone else, but it matters to me. It'll be especially nice to have the current WIP be neat and tidy from the start.
That's the thing about writing. It's a constant learning experience. It's a profession where the writer continually strives for improvement. My motto, if I have one, is "learn something new every day."
In the Year of our Lord Two Thousand Nineteen, it may be "improve something every day." I can live with that.
KC Kendricks
My home on the web- Between the Keys:
Visit my bookshelf at:
Social media links:
My country life at Holly Tree Manor: hollytreemanor.blogspot.com
Life through the eyes of Greenbrier Smokey Deuce: deucesday.blogspot.com
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