UPDATE: The winner is…Debra Shutters!
*~*~*

Here I am on a Saturday, and it’s crunch time. I have a story to finish in less than a week and two books to edit for another author—also by the end of next week. I feel like a weight is pressing on my shoulders, and my head’s feeling muzzy today, so I’m wondering if I’m about to come down with whatever bug my dd’s family has been fighting. Not good feelings. But I have to push forward. I have DEADLINES!

I also feel the pressure for the upcoming holidays. I have lots planned to do for people, and I’m only getting started. I want to make a ton of things, and you should see the big yarn and cotton loops stash I’ve accumulated, as well as the pile of beads and pretty string sitting on my craft table.

I’m taking a deep breath. One day at a time. One project at a time. Or incremental steps in each, every day from here on out.

So, that’s what I’m facing. For a chance to win a book of your choice from my backlist, tell me what’s weighing you down and giving you stress!

Cute pic, right? The Devlin house has been beleaguered with health issues for a while. First, my mom had issues (falls, lucidity issues, etc.), but she’s on the mend. She had sooooo many appointments and hospital visits, we were growing worried. Now, it’s my dd’s house. My dd and two of her daughters have had problems with croupy, lingering coughs. Today, my daughter is so sore from coughing, I’m helping her at her house.

It’s a good thing I’m generally as healthy as a horse. But my productivity over the past month has taken quite a hit. I’m trying to get back on track. I have a novella I HAVE to finish by the end of the month. Guess how many pages I have written? ZERO. I’ll try to change that today. I also have edits to do for a client/author. So, my dance card is full.

Not a fun post today, but I wanted to share, because y’all think romance authors laze around, being fed bonbons all day, right? LOL. Well, I’m sure you don’t think that, but I do like you knowing we’re just like everyone else. 🙂

~Delilah

Before I started writing, many years ago, I didn’t consider myself a particularly crafty or artistic person. I crocheted a little, never deviating from a pattern. I did some needlepoint and embroidery—again, always following the instructions to a T.

Then I started writing, and all my hobbies fell away. I was a writer. I was creative. The more I wrote, I swear, the more my left brain talents began to atrophy. Math? I was a straight-mathlete throughout college, and now? Dear Jesus, don’t show me a tenth-grader’s homework. Can’t help there.

Still, I thought writing was my ONLY talent. Until, I accompanied my mom to her art group meetings, and decided I’d try something crafty. Suddenly, I’m painting (not well, but not putridly either); I’m making jewelry; I’m collaging, doodling… If it involves color, I’m there.

Now that writing is work (hey, it’s what pays the bills, so yes, it’s work), I have to do something else to wind down. Sometimes, art and jewelrymaking takes too much brainpower, so I needed another hobby. An outlet that didn’t require me to prep a thing, didn’t require me to count stitches. I found POTHOLDERS.

I know, it’s damn weird. But finishing up one of these suckers while I watch some mindless boob tube show to let my brain relax is sooooo soothing. And I found it by accident. I bought a grab bag of arts and crafts supplies at the local thrift shop, and inside the bag was a small plastic kid’s loom. I remembered having one when I was little, and feeling nostalgic, I went online, found some nice cotton loops, and made my first potholder. Then I discovered they have metal, “grownup” potholder looms that are twice as large, and I had to have one. See the potholder below? It’s the second I’ve made on the new loom. Pretty isn’t it? For this one, I didn’t follow a pattern. I just put colors next to each other that I liked and repeated the pattern once I got to the middle. That’s all the thinking it took.

So, tomorrow AM, I’ll be back at it hard, editing for a friend. I hope to wrap her story up tomorrow, because I have another last minute edit job arriving. I’m hoping that, by Tuesday, I’ll be writing my own dang pages, but in the evenings when I’m ready to let my mind rest, I’ll be sorting through my stash of cotton loops, making myself happy with color combinations that please my loopy brain.

So, I shared my weird hobby. Do you have something you love to do that fills that “resting brain” prescription?

On 9/11, I worked in a large insurance company in San Antonio, Texas. I passed by a break room and saw a large group of people standing beneath the televisions mounted on the wall, watching coverage of some disaster in New York. I was on my way to a meeting, but I paused. Everyone was quiet, whispering. I heard someone say, “I think a small plane crashed into one of the trade center buildings.” As I stood there realizing a tall skyscraper was on fire, another plane entered our view, and we all watched horrified as it crashed into the second tower.

Meeting forgotten, I stood, listening as news people tried to make sense of what we’d all witnessed. When the towers leaned and began to tumble down, I knew what had happened was intentional. That something profoundly ugly and cruel had just occurred.

Over the following days, like so many others, I couldn’t look away from the coverage—the people running away, gray and covered in dust, of people leaping from windows, of the stories of the first responders who’d been inside those buildings, trying to move people to safety, of the person who’d stayed with a wheelchair-bound friend in a stairwell… So many horrible/wonderful stories.

At the time, I was still in the National Guard. During my unit’s first weekend together after the attack, we reviewed what it meant. What we had to prepare for. Another war was coming.

Today, eighteen years later, I remember all of that like it was yesterday. It’s one of those days that remains forever emblazoned on my mind—like the days JFK, Martin Luther King, Jr., Bobby Kennedy, and John Lennon were assassinated—like the day I watched the moon landing, although my feelings while watching that miracle of technology and perseverance left me feeling light and hopeful for the future rather than somber and angry. They are all seminal moments, ones you remember what you were doing, and who you were with when you first heard…

I think of the first responders who arrived to search for survivors. Of the dogs with their booties, who suffered from finding so much death that men lay down in the rubble to give those dogs a joyful “win”. So many heroes who suffer to this day.

I remember. Do you want to share your memories?

Not much of a post today. My dd is over to help get the house ready for my mom. She had back surgery on Friday and is coming home today. We’re happy because all seems to have gone very well. She had crumbling discs, and the doctors went into her back and “roto-rooted” away the debris which had caused her pain for years.

After we finished getting things right for mom, we descended into the basement to the craft room where Kel worked on her Cricut, and I worked on some bracelets. Here are a few I finished:

Of course, as always happens when I make bracelets, I ended up giving some of them away. I made a lovely rosewood and lavender quartz bracelet as well as one just like the red one above to my dd. I gave the second red one to my aunt when she admired it. So, I’m ahead just two bracelets in my efforts to build inventory for my Etsy shop. At this rate, it will be a very long time before I can re-open. 🙂

So, now we just wait. Mom will be back soon. My sister, Elle James, stayed with her at the hospital throughout the ordeal. I had the fur-babies to take care of—five of them. I had to sleep in mom’s bed where they all join her at night, and she gets up to walk them two or three times a night. So, yes, I’ll be happy when everyone is home and mom is well! LOL

Hi, my name D. V. Stone and I want to thank Delilah for having me here today. Like many of you, I wear different hats. Wife, mother, grandmother, author, and full-time medical receptionist. It’s a busy life for all of us and trying to keep up with chores and work can sometimes suck the life out of a person. No, I don’t have the cure. Sorry. But there are things that I do to help keep the sanity and balance.

I love to cook. I love to camp. Not on the ground mind you, we have an RV. Bonus! It has an outdoor kitchen. Why do I bring this up? I’m learning to cook over the open fire.

Recipe

These are called Hobo Bags.

I sprayed the foil with non-stick spray and then added seasoned chicken topped with potatoes and corn. A pat of butter, twist them shut and cook for about 45 min. No muss. No fuss. No dishes to clean up. You can do it on a grill or in the oven, too.

Camping reminds me of the old ways. Maybe you remember when you were a kid, unexpected dinner guests. Whoever was at our house got fed. “Mom, can fill in the blank stay for supper?” Could be heard from a lot of houses, including ours. Especially popular with my husband was finding out what his mom was making and then getting himself invited to a friend who wasn’t having a veggie-centric meal.

Since I live in the suburbs, daily shopping is a waste of time and gas. Also trying to eat healthier is hard in a grab and go situation. So, what are some of the things a busy person can do to

I keep a pretty well-stocked freezer and pantry of basics. I’m a big believer in semi-homemade. That means things like a rotisserie chicken is a staple in my house. Dinner, then sandwiches, and finally leftover pieces tossed with some frozen vegetables and seasoning gives me a great lunch for work. Onions, garlic, and peppers are always in the fridge.

In my local market, I found this huge bag of stir-fry and tossed out the sauce because of how much salt is in it. If you have some chicken or frozen shrimp and a few spices add some liquid and you’ve got a tasty meal. I’ve used wine, chicken broth, and I discovered a jalapeno peanut butter which cooked down adds a kick.

Later this year I have a book coming out titled Rock House Grill. The story is about a restaurant and characters with hopes and dreams. I get to combine several things. Classic Rock, cooking, and medical. I used to be an Emergency Medical Technician, and Shay, my female lead character, dreams of being a chef.

What about you? What can you pull out of your magic hat at a moment’s notice? Even better, what do you do to keep sanity and balance?

About the Author

D. V. Stone is a multi-genre author of two independently published books. Felice, Shield-Mates of Dar is a fantasy romance. Agent Sam Carter and the Mystery at Branch Lake is a mid-grade paranormal. Recently, Rock House Grill, a contemporary romance has been signed with Wild Rose Press. She also hosts Welcome to the Campfire where each week she interviews authors about not only books but their life. You may pick up a recipe or two there.

Born in Brooklyn, D.V. Stone has moved around a bit and even lived for a time on a dairy farm in Minnesota before moving back east. Despite her wandering, she always considered herself a Jersey Girl. She met the love of her life and moved, this time to Sussex County. Her husband, Pete, is a lifelong Sussex County man. They share their home with Hali a mixed breed from a local shelter and Baby a small gray cat who bosses everyone around.

Website  Facebook  Twitter  Instagram
Pinterest  Bookbub  Goodreads  Newsletter

Not trying to channel Joan Rivers, but can we talk? I feel that I need to have this conversation. Anytime a story begins, “See, what had happened was…” Yeah, you know the ending isn’t a pretty one. So, before I begin, grab a drink and sit back for this tale of cosmetic horror.

Now, listen, I’m not one to beauty shame anyone. By no means am I a beauty guru, but I do like to look cute. (Or at least, I like to pretend that I look cute.)

Listen, I have a problem, not unlike many women. It’s not one that is discussed in polite company, but let’s get real. It happens. So, I’ll just throw it out there in all my shame. I’m a sweater. There, I said it. My grandmother tried to convince me that ladies don’t sweat. They perspire. Gurl! That’s a bunch of bull. I pump out sweat like a human Niagara Falls. Sorry, Grammy, but sell that elsewhere. And you know what? I don’t give a rat’s pahtoot about all these dainty deodorants in their all-too precious packaging and artsy logos. They don’t do diddly-squat to prevent my pits from being soaked. But that I can take. Here’s what I can’t—a runny foundation. OMG!

So, here is my tale of woe. For much of my life, I’ve been a drugstore beauty type of gal; that is, until, I grew sick of these companies taking my shades off the market. I understand that companies need to update and progress with the times. I get that consumer wants and interests change and evolve. But seriously, can the replacements not be crappy or, at least, easily found? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind. Read the rest of this entry »