Monday, January 11, 2021

Fits and starts


January 11, 2021

With the holidays behind us, I am determined to be intentional about putting on my writer's hat. So far it's working well. Ten days into the new year and I've made more progress on the Rayne Forrest work-in-progress, and on a new KC Kendricks story. I've also made a few website updates (with more to come) and created promo cards for use on Facebook and Twitter. 

Amazon FINALLY uploaded the updated manuscript for the Rayne Forrest book, A Hero's Bargain. That led to finalizing the updates to Bourbon and Blues. I also made sure the Sundown Saga was set up on the new series feature Big A offers. 

So. Progress. 

I purchased a very inexpensive desktop tripod for my phone. If I'm going to share my writing "real," I need to practice first. The tripod will also be useful for sharing Deuce's world over on his blog, Deuce's Day. The dog could be a star if I gave him a bit more encouragement. 

Being content with the start of 2021 is, I think, important. Each step has been a small one, engineered to be successful. That gives me something to build on as the January chill drags on. It may seem like I'm working in fits and starts, but that's real life. Staying on top of everything requires a lot of flexibility, another keyword for the year 2021.




Friday, January 8, 2021

So...YouTube??

 January 8, 2021

How important is it to have a record of my "work" for posterity? Early on in my writing career, the most seasoned writers said to keep a record of everything you write. Every version of every draft of every manuscript complete with worksheets, notes, inspirational photos - The Works. The reasoning was you never know when you might hit it big and your scribbled notes become very valuable to the highest bidder. 

I get all that but I don't aspire to be another JK Rowling or a Clive Cussler. Or even Nora Roberts, if you want to stick to romance. It's not me. I like having a quiet life. When I write a story it's a story I want to live and then read. 

And so enter YouTube. 

The spousal unit and I have been watching a lot of YouTube these past few months. One evening he turned to me and said I should post my videos. Seriously? I take videos around the property for fun or to remember where something is planted, etc. Okay, so I've now posted some. Most are of Deuce for on his blog, Deuce's Day. So the question is, would I enjoy making a few writing videos? The jury is definitely out on that one. 

Videos of Deuce are easy. I want to always remember my time with him so even his naptime is precious to me whether or not anyone else agrees. But videos of me as The Writer? 

I do a lot more than write, though. We've watched This Farm Wife walk through mud video after video hoping for something exciting to happen. The same thing with Outdoors With the Morgans. The man lives and breaths firewood. I know how to cut and split firewood so it's not very exciting. Then there are the "prepper pantry" folks. Those are actually educational, but I have little to add.  Or do I?

Those videos are about a unique perspective on life. That's the one thing we all have (unless we drank from too many pitchers of Kool-Aid and only know how to parrot rhetoric). Do I have a unique enough perspective to offer, too? 

I'm pondering the possibilities and experimenting with new-to-me software. We'll see where it leads.


 _*_*_*_*_*_*_

 KC Kendricks


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




Saturday, January 2, 2021

Amazon series feature - new to my bookshelf


 January 2, 2021

For some time now I've noticed how Amazon displays series information in a different way. Suddenly, just a few days ago, that feature popped up as part of my bookshelf control. It seems like a good idea so I thought I'd test it out. 

Note to self: trying new things at six o'clock in the morning, in the dark, before finishing that first cup of coffee - not a good idea. 

I decided I'd set up the Ian Coulter's Amethyst Cove series, and it was going well for the first three books, Double Deuce, Deuce of Diamonds, and Ace, Deuce, Trey. Then SNAP! I went back to add books four and five, Circle of Steel and Steel Wheels, and it had vanished. The panel said my updates were in review, but I wasn't finished and there was no option to continue past the first three books. 

In trying to make this a simple process, Amazon has complicated it. If I can't edit the feature is it really going to help me? Maybe. I can edit after the review process is complete. 

But I now have to wait seventy-two hours to see what my series feature will look like. If there's a preview option, I didn't see it. 

It's still dark outside and I have yet to finish my coffee. Maybe I'll learn something from this. You know - like wake up and engage your brain before you try shit like this. Bad author. 





Friday, January 1, 2021

2020 Retrospective

January 1, 2021

We've welcomed another New Year! Never did I dream, back in 2008, that I'd still enjoy blogging here at Between the Keys. That's the key - I still enjoy it. 

Life is a constant experience of change. We all saw that in the year just past. 2020 will not go down in the personal history of many people as a "good" year. And yet we have arrived here today triumphant over many adversaries, real and imagined. What I wanted to accomplish in 2020, and what I was actually able to do, are poles apart. And yet triumphant is the only way to describe how I feel. 

I wanted 2020 to be the year I once again made writing a priority. At the beginning of 2020, my partner's health had improved, my mother's condition had stabilized, I'd closed the door on settling my step-father's estate, and my finances were aligned in such a manner that I could, and still can retire at any time. I penned a cheery little poem to welcome the year. Little did any of us know what was ahead. 

Enter Covid-19 and its devastation. The heart has been ripped out of so many families by what I firmly believe is man's combined avarice and stupidity. Something sinister lies in the center of this pandemic and I don't believe it's a bat. 

2020 delivered the most massive changes I've ever lived through. Never did I expect I would live to see the shelves at the grocery stores be empty. My thoughts continually turned to my grandparents and what life must have been like for them during the Great Depression.  We were ordered by our government to remain home unless we were considered essential personnel by an employer. We are still under orders to wear a face-covering in public. Life in the United States changed rapidly and drastically and I fear it has been forever altered. 

The 2020 Retrospective

January 2020 saw me back to the writing. I had a work in progress, The Quest, and was keen to get it finished. In February, we began to hear bits and pieces about a serious outbreak of a new virus in China. The news escalated until in March we were all suddenly under stay-at-home orders and the rush was on for toilet paper. Seriously. The Great Toilet Paper Shortage was also upon us. 

Late in 2019, I began a new blog, Holly Tree Manor, to chronicle our rural life. It wasn't until the end of January that I decided to keep it going. It's hard to judge if it's the sort of thing anyone would be interested in, but it's important to me to journal these days. 

 April found me working from home. I again contemplated retiring but didn't want to lose my employer-paid health insurance. I penned a reflective blog entitled What We Will Remember and attempted to get some work done. 

In May I finally realized that part of my problem was grief over the loss of my writing buddy, Chris Grover. The approaching anniversary of her death left me questioning why I continue to write when there are so few writers left from the time I was first published. They say writing is a lonely profession and that is correct when no one around you speaks the language. 

But summer was here. There were fawns, fledgling hawks, fox kits, and for the first time in years a growing garden. My employer decreed I needed to once again work in the office, which did not please me but I went. By the end of summer, I was canning produce and developing a "prepper pantry" to be more prepared for the next wave of Covid-19.  By the middle of October, it was clear the second wave was upon us, and once again I was able to work from the safety of my home office. 

The middle of October also saw The Quest published! I cried with relief to have the project finished. The last thing I wanted was for 2020 to be the first year since 2003 I didn't publish a book. At the close of 2020, I'm working to finish a
Rayne Forrest manuscript. It's almost done and I do wonder why I didn't finish it sooner. I suppose I got sidetracked on all the KC Kendricks books, but taking a journey back to my writing roots is good for me.  

Not all of 2020 was contentious, but our presidential election certainly was. If I ever doubted (and I did not) that politics are a sham, 2020 proved it over and over again. Our Constitution weighs in favor of individual rights. Everyone remembers that. No one seems to care for the responsibilities that come along with it. That's all I can say on that subject. 

I can't see into the Year of our Lord Two Thousand Twenty-one. I wish I could. All any of us can do is go forward in faith, one day at a time. I hope you'll stay with me on my journey. 

KC Kendricks







Saturday, December 26, 2020

Capping off Christmas

 
December 26, 2020

We're going to hear it said a lot - this Christmas was different. Can I get an "amen!"? I'll settle for you muttering under your breath, "you got that shit right." In the year 2020, it's about the same thing. 

No, I'm not making fun of Christians. It's the faith to which I espouse. Lighten up, folks. 

I'm part of the generation which, so it seems, was the first to be vocal about the commercialization of Christmas. Christmas is big money. I'm curious as to what the retail numbers will be this year. Our own personal experience with Christmas buying is not a good marker. We tend to discuss our needs and wants and settle on that one big thing we agree on instead of a bunch of little things. This year we decided to wait until spring to make that purchase since it's for outside. 

But what we received this Christmas isn't something we could purchase. I spoke with my two closest male cousins which did my heart good. I left a message for another cousin and I hope she'll be able to call me back today. My partner's siblings all joined together in a facebook chat (or zoom or whatever) with various spouses and offspring wandering in and out in the background. It was a welcomed connection to family.

Back in the day, I wasn't much of a fan of the digital lifestyle. I foresaw us being exactly where we are, although I never saw a pandemic coming. I saw the reliance on digital or virtual as the end of the personal gatherings. One of my friends used to shake her head at me, telling me that going digital was a great way to keep tabs on a friend without putting up with all their shit. She was right. I do that with her. 

Our Christmas was a solitary one. It's really good that after twenty-six years we still tolerate each other pretty well. The one cousin popped in with his new puppy but outside those ten minutes, we had our solitude. Last Christmas, I penned a light-hearted little poem entitled The Elder and The Crone. It was meant in fun but has deeper significance this year. 
 
So as the hours of Christmas 2020 ticked away, the Elder and the Crone enjoyed a slice of bourbon-laced sweet potato pie and some heavily spiked eggnog. After that, the two old farts fell asleep in their respective recliners while the dog put himself to bed. It was a great way to cap off this particular Christmas. 

KC Kendricks



Thursday, December 24, 2020

Saturday, December 19, 2020

Are breaks really a good thing?

 December 19, 2020


Are purposeful breaks a good thing? My answer is it depends. The old adage to "write something every day" has never worked well for me. It works well three days a week since I don't work at the day job Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, but the other four days of the week? Not so much.
 
Knowing that for four days a week I'll be too emotionally tired to write has always been an annoyance and frustration for me. The year 2020, well, who can adequately describe 2020? What usually happens to me is that I'll come home from the day job and want to write until I sit in the chair and stare at the monitors. Then I sort of crash. It's very unproductive. 

We've arrived at what is my annual Christmas break, that time from the weekend before Christmas to January 2. It feels like a cheat to take the time off. I've almost finished a Rayne Forrest story and it would be great to kick-off 2021 with a new release. 

Sometimes it really works to tell myself I can't do something. I believe writers should be well-rounded in knowledge. That doesn't mean an expert. It means to take an interest in many topics - except politics. That shit will rot your brain. My planned breaks are so I can indulge myself by working with genealogy, ancient cities and peoples, crafts, cooking and baking, and planning a spring garden. This year I've added spying to my repertoire of interests. We bought a trail camera to keep an eye on the deer in the west woods. Something is having way too much fun out there at night and we think it's a coyote. 

Just typing the words "I'm on a break" has me itching to open the folder and work on the story. Any story. It's not only the Rayne Forrest story I have on the plot board. 

Maybe a huge part of staying motivated is getting myself to relax. The thing I've wanted in my life, above all else, is at hand. If not for the Covid-19 pandemic and the need to maintain really good health insurance, I would have retired back in June 2020. I came so close....

It snowed a few days ago providing me with a winter wonderland vista outside the windows of my sunroom office. Maybe if I write a few hundred words, I can take a break and go wander about the manor. Then tomorrow I can watch the footprints melt. I've got to fit that imagery in a story now. 

First day of being "on break" and already I have a new idea to jot down. Breaks can be good. 

KC Kendricks




Sunday, December 6, 2020

Passion's Victory promotional card

 December 6, 2020


Passion's Victory is the second story I wrote as KC Kendricks. It garnered a CAPA nomination, which both surprised and pleased me. It shouldn't have. Passion's Victory is a solid story if I do say so myself. 

One of the tasks I've set for myself is making a promo card for every book. This morning, it was Passion's Victory's turn. This card is about my third effort and I think I'll stop while 
I'm behind! 

Here's a bit about Passion's Victory, available at the usual on-line booksellers. You can also check out the book page here at Between the Keys. 

Enjoy! 

*_*_*_*_*

PASSION'S VICTORY

 Micah Souther is young, talented, and gay. As the junior owner of the family business, he knows better than to look for love “on the clock.”

 Jonas Chadwick is the new guy at the firm. Older, wiser, and a survivor of the school of hard knocks, he’s not in the market for an office romance, even if he learns for certain his young boss is gay.

 One kiss is all it takes to send Micah and Jonas on a collision course, and when bodies collide, the friction gets hot...

EXCERPT

... My pulse pounded loudly in my ears and my cock rose, anticipating something I knew wasn’t a certainty. He’d come back, but for what? His warm lips found mine, seeking permission. I opened to him, inviting him to plunder at will. He did, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I met him eagerly, hungrily. I wanted this, and more.

Jonas’ strong fingers encircled my wrist as he lifted my arm above my head to body pin me, full length, against my front door. He pressed the hard ridge of his erection firmly to mine. I reached for him with my free hand, wanting to feel his length and girth, but he grabbed that wrist, too, and lifted it beside the other. I bucked against him, totally turned on by the aggression I sensed in him.

“Be still,” he growled in my ear. He trailed kisses down my neck, even as his grip tightened. I struggled to break free of the vise grip he had on my wrists.

His pelvis ground against mine. I tilted my head and delved into the heat of his mouth. I moaned. He moaned. I wanted my hands free in the worst way. I needed to touch him, caress the sensitive, silky skin I knew sheathed his penis. I ached to feel his lips on my cock.

I threw my weight forward, desperate to force him to take a step back. It worked and I quickly spun him around and pinned him with my body. He grunted as he came in contact with the door and his lips bowed beneath mine. His strong fingers released my hands, and I reached for him, gathering him to me. His muscled thigh slipped between mine and applied upward pressure on my balls. Instead of worrying about injury I pressed down, reveling in the tingling sensation.

“Jonas,” I murmured against his smiling lips. “Talk to…” His tongue flicked to mine, cutting off my request for a moment of conversation.

Any of my neighbors watching were getting quite a sideshow. I shoved my hand in my pocket, fumbling for my keys. They fell from my shaking fingers to the porch decking. Jonas pushed me back, breaking physical contact. I longed to see his eyes, to get some idea of what he thought, what he felt.

“Bend over and pick them up,” he said cheerfully as he rubbed my nipple.

I stared at him and tried to catch my breath. “Not in front of you, Chadwick. I know all about men like you.”

“Do you?” Something rough and dark in his voice gave me pause. What demon did he battle?

“I know enough.” I pushed him back against the side of the house, not with some little force. “Why did you come back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe to satisfy my curiosity.”

“Bullshit.” I fisted my hands in his shirt and gave him a shake. “We take this inside, make it private, or we’re done here.”

Jonas stared at me for the longest twenty seconds of my life, then he nodded. I released him and he bent over, snagged my keys, and dropped them into my outstretched palm. I unlocked the door and invited the devil into my home for the second time in one day.

“I need a drink. Do you want one, Jonas?” I needed to haul him into my bedroom and have my way with him, that’s what I needed. My insides quivered. I shivered despite the warm evening.
But I knew, to my sorrow, that quickie sex now would be a mistake, and I bet he knew it, too.

“I’ll take a brandy, if you have it.”

“I hope you’ll settle for bourbon.”

I poured us each a generous shot and handed him one. He nodded and tossed it back like a pro. I followed suit, and we set our empties down on the counter in unison. Jonas reached for me again. I lifted my chin and stared him down. His hand dropped to his side.

I wanted him. God, how I wanted him. I ached with it. His gaze met mine before flicking down to the bulge in my pants and back up.

“Looks nice.”

“It’s a sock,” I told him cheerily, in the same tone that he’d used to tell me to bend over.

“Hmm. Well, that’s the risk we run, isn’t it?”

I snorted. “Ya think?” I went to check his package, and he moved away.

“Shy?” I hardly thought shyness to be a problem for him given his examination of my tonsils with his tongue.

“Let’s just say I’m cautious.”


 _*_*_*_*_*_*_

 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





Tuesday, December 1, 2020

A short promotional video

 December 1, 2020

Sometimes a person just gets a notion to do something, like, make a little video. 

Enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-61KjtBoaoU




Monday, November 30, 2020

Doors of Time promo card project

 November 30, 2020


I distinctly remember the conversation that took place after Amber Quill Press announced they were folding. One of the other AQP authors with a cavalier attitude boldly proclaimed she didn't need to learn how to make her own covers. 

Hmmm....More power to her. I chose a very different path. 

I decided I would learn how to create a cover and I've really enjoyed - yes, ENJOYED the process. Not every cover turns out exactly the way I thought it would, but that's okay. I've discovered that I need to allow the creative side of my brain to simmer some ideas (some longer than others), and can redo a cover at any time. No begging for it to be done by someone else. No paying extra for a re-do. 

This past year I've been creating some promo cards. I've seen some really good ones and they gave me the idea to try it. Mine are basics, but I think that's ok. My message is basic - here's my book. 

Photoshop is a challenging piece of software. It does things I don't have a clue about. I stick to the basic photo merge process. It takes me about an hour to do a promo card although I know I'm getting faster. I create every layer separately and save each combination as a separate .jpg. My copy of Photoshop will simply shut down if I try to do too much at once. So I work with that knowledge instead of against it. 

This morning I settled down to do a card for Doors of Time. I've always loved the way that cover turned out, and I think the promo card does it proud. 

Here's a bit about Doors of Time, one of my author picks. Enjoy!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
DOORS OF TIME
Contemporary gay romance available at
Amazon, iTunes and other online booksellers

Calvin Lawson arrived in Clear River to rebuild bridges with his ailing father, not hook up with Emory Fleming, although being an honest man, he has to admit Emory’s on his mind. But first things first, and before he goes looking for his boyhood friend, he needs to find a restoration project to generate personal income so he’s not sponging off his father. Gutted by an arsonist, the Clocktower Theatre, affectionately called the Time by everyone in town, is in dire need of his special skills. 
 
As an on-the-air journalist, Emory Fleming is making a name for himself and getting noticed. He’s back in Clear River at the local network affiliate, preparing for the move up to a major market in a few years. When Calvin Lawson rolls back into town, Emory’s stunned. The old pal he worked with at the Time kept a big secret - he’s gay. All the fantasies Emory had as a teenager about Calvin suddenly become real as he and Calvin reconnect and quickly become lovers.
 
Calvin’s planned restoration of the Clocktower Theatre may not be a practical possibility. He has to secure a lot of funding to do the job properly, and money is tight everywhere. When Emory’s big break comes faster than anticipated, Calvin sees only one option. He'll step aside so Emory will accept the job he’s worked all his life to attain, and allow the doors of time close between them permanently.

EXCERPT
 
“You don’t know what to do when someone acts all gentlemanly toward you, do you?”

Emory reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Not really, but I’m willing to work on it.” He climbed into the car, and Calvin closed the door.

If he were lucky, his knees wouldn’t buckle as he walked around to the driver’s side of the Charger and got the vehicle moving.

It wasn’t news to Calvin that Emory liked to lead, but some habits were hard to break. From an early age, his mother had drilled polite manners into him. A man opened doors, carried packages, pulled chairs out from tables, and held umbrellas. As far as Calvin was concerned, being genteel applied to gay men as much as straight guys. But maybe Emory didn’t see it that way.

“I won’t open the door for you if it makes you that uncomfortable.”

Emory pulled his keys out of his pocket and fidgeted with them. “It’s been a long time since anyone did it. It’s not all good memories, Calvin.”

Had one of those older men who swarmed around Emory hurt him? “What’s that mean, or don’t you want to tell me?”

“As a younger man, I seemed to attract a macho element intent on making me their bitch.” Emory looked at him and lifted his hands, palms up. “And there you sit, only gay for a few hours.”

Calvin snorted. “Disconcerting, isn’t it?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I mean, I tell you that you’re dessert, and that makes you decide to have dinner with me?”

Calvin parked the car beside Emory’s little sports coupe. “I was leaning toward dinner without dessert, but your way sounds more interesting.”

Emory scrambled from the car as he reached for the door handle. “I’ll leave your name at the front desk.”

Calvin hurried after him and blocked his escape into his own ride. “Wait a second! What are you scared of, Emory?”

“Feeling sixteen and clueless again.”

He was familiar with what Emory described. He had a case of it right now, but Calvin wasn’t going to let it stop him. He’d thought about Emory for so many years, and in the blink of an eye, he had a chance. Even if he screwed it up royally, he had to take his shot. Calvin cupped the back of Emory’s neck and kissed him.

Shock jolted through Calvin, an electric current that left heat in its wake. Emory’s soft lips opened, and his tongue flicked across Calvin’s upper lip. His mouth opened, and Emory dove in, his silky tongue gliding over Calvin’s with invitation and promise. 

Calvin’s body tightened as blood rushed through his veins to deafen him. His cock filled, rock hard in just a few throbbing beats. He pushed Emory back against the side of the car. Emory’s thighs strained against his as he arched his pelvis against his, the ridge of his dick riding along Calvin’s hard-on. Stars danced behind Calvin’s closed eyes.

This is what had been missing when he kissed other guys. They weren’t Emory. How could he have known the man’s taste and smell when they’d never been this close before? But he’d known all the others weren’t “right.” And Emory was.

Calvin pulled away and sucked in a desperate breath before he did something silly like pass out from lack of oxygen. Emory blinked at him, his blue eyes gone black and wild.
“Why didn’t you do that ten years ago?”

Calvin opened his mouth to speak and finally managed to shake his head and shrug. He swallowed and tried again, but the words wouldn’t come, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He cupped Emory’s cheeks with his palms and kissed him again. 

Calvin had no doubt where they were headed when Emory moaned softly into his mouth and gripped his hips to pull him closer. He ended the kiss and rested his forehead against Emory’s.

“We, um, should get moving.”

Emory’s hands slid up his sides in a slow caress. “To where? The station or my place?”

DOORS OF TIME
Contemporary gay romance available now at



Barnes & Noble/Nook

Kobo


KC Kendricks





Sunday, November 22, 2020

Working retro

November 22, 2020

A long time ago in another life, I wrote as Rayne Forrest. Long story short, my mother wanted me to use my grandfather's last name. I had no problem with this. My Forrest heritage is long and proud, stretching back many generations and into Scotland. But what to team with Forrest? Tropical? Nope. In a moment of hilarity with many options being bandied about, someone hit on Rayne and I liked it. 

I had good success with the nom de plume, but I always knew when I branched out into other subgenres it wouldn't go with me. It was all about branding the nameplate. Like a car. Anyway...

My computer houses several files with partially completed Rayne Forrest manuscripts. I've decided I need to take the time to finish them, working between other projects. First up is an idea I had when I began working on Netting Neptune, Taming Triton, and Poseidon's Pleasure. I do love a futuristic story, so this one is set at an undersea resort. It's a bit light-hearted, which may not fit in with today's dystopian views, but I like it. 

And by the way - Netting Neptune, Taming Triton, and Poseidon's Pleasure have nothing at all to do with fantasy. The three stories are all contemporary gay romances set at a seaside resort, hence the reference to sea gods. 

To give myself a bit of inspiration, I've created the cover for After the Sea Sprite Ball. It feels a bit retro but that's okay. The future is all about the past. 

Stay tuned. I'll post updates when they become significant. 

KC Kendricks


Saturday, November 21, 2020

A Holiday Romance?

 November 21, 2020

The holiday romance. What writer has not entertained the thought of a happily ever after romance set against the backdrop of the Christmas season? I've certainly considered it more than once. But do I really want to dedicate the time necessary to develop new characters, a plot, and the actual writing on a book that may only sell a few copies once a year? Isn't it more prudent to use that time to craft a story that will sell a few copies every month for many years? That long reach sell is how most of us survive. In the elevator at the 2008 Romantic Times convention, I overhead a well-established writer say her earlier books were gifts that kept on giving. I know now how true that statement was, and is. 

What to do? The holidays are fast approaching and I know myself well enough to know that now would be the time - the only time of year - I'd be able to write a themed story. Writing a story with a loving couple watching it snow, in June or July, is beyond my brain's ability. I need to see the snow, feel the chill, breathe in the cold, crisp air of a snowfall that is like no other to be able to romanticize that part of the season. And of course, being me, the big fluffy flakes will also show their dark side - melting slush sent by the gods of weather to antagonize a hero's driving. 

And if I write this cheery holiday story this season, am I willing to shelve it until next year and release it when the holiday-themed books are selling? The long reach sell requires a lot of patience. 

There's no reason for me not to write the story I want to write - and read. It will be my story and if others want to come along for the ride, that's just a bonus. 

I think that's something we "older" writers sometimes forget. We've been writing so long and so successfully for our readership, our "market," that we overlook the fact we need to write for ourselves, too. It's an amazing thing to go back and read one of our own older works and realize that, yes, we did write that! 

So now I have points to ponder. Perhaps I can shortcut some of the planning process by giving one of my earlier couples a Christmas to remember. Considering a themed story would need to be a shorter work (my opinion), that may be the way to go, at least for me. 

Decision made or decision deferred? Isn't being a writer a lot of fun? 
On Instagram...somewhere 

Saturday, November 7, 2020

Between the Keys newsletter updates

 November 7, 2020

The Autumn 2020 issue of the Between the Keys newsletter is now available on my website. 

Writer's wisdom from long ago was full of things a writer had to do to reach readers. You had to have a website (check), a blog (check), a mailing list...um, Yahoo is ending its groups feature so there goes that one out the window. You had to have a newsletter (check). 

They should have said you should have a newsletter AND be faithful in issuing them on a regular basis. 

I have at times in my writing career produced a newsletter regularly. I have at times in my writing career been a little lax with a newsletter. That's life, or at least my life. I've put together an Autumn 2020 newsletter and that's a good thing. I'll take it as a success, at least for today. 


KC Kendricks




Sunday, November 1, 2020

What fresh hell is this?

 November 1, 2020

Why, yes, I've stolen a quote from the fictional Sheldon Cooper. Just what the hell is this fresh hell? Oh yeah. They call it the "time change." Daylight Saving Time, as if we can save daylight. What a quaint notion. Should I mention it was started in CANADA? Probably not. 

It's a lot of fun in the summer months, but now comes the reckoning. I reckon I'm awake at 3:00 AM and I reckon I do not like it much. Eastern Standard Time has resumed.

I set the clocks in the house back an hour before going to bed last night. That's not much of a chore these days. Our Black Forest cuckoo is paused for an hour, set the microwave clock, and reset my alarm clock. Everything else electronic takes care of itself. 

But I'm awake in the middle of the night. 

The concept of Daylight Savings was introduced in the US in 1918. At the time it was to save energy and make better use of daylight, i.e., more active daylight hours in which to work harder and get more done. That's the way true Americans think - get the work done. 

But I'm awake in the middle of the night. 

So if Daylight Savings Time will save energy, i.e., lower electric bills, why do we "turn it off" in November? If you live in a rural setting, you still need that daylight because unlike city dwellers, your work doesn't end at four or five or six in the evening. When you get home from the day job, you still have outside work to do. 

But I'm awake in the middle of the night. 

Okay. I'm whining but I do wonder why we bother with changing the time twice a year. Just give us more daylight hours and be done with it. We've reached the point where 29 states have introduced legislation to abolish the twice a year time change and to extend Daylight Saving. The US has four time zones at this juncture. Isn't that confusing enough without driving from South Carolina to California and resetting your watch an additional seven times?

This is what happens to my brain when I'm awake in the middle of the night. 

Readjusting to Eastern Standard Time becomes more difficult as we age. The spousal unit has been retired for a few years and he complains, rather bitterly, about his sleep pattern getting all fucked up out of sync. Is he just griping? 

But I'm awake in the middle of the night. And I don't like it much because I'm sure as hell not being productive.