The short story I'm considering was once the prologue to the book, but as I'm rewriting it, I may do it this way instead. I'm hoping it'll be a treat for you, because it involves Grey House back in the day.
That's really not what I started this blog about, though.
You all know what they say about best laid plans and all that?
I had a plan: Release thirty books before my 60th birthday (which is tomorrow). Everything seemed to be on track--Cloud Dust would be the 30th book and it was coming right along.
Then, Walter's (my husband's) mother passed away on the 13th. It wasn't a huge shock--her health had declined and she'd recently gone into hospice care. Her funeral was on the 17th. I spent the days between the 13th and 17th alternating between edits and revisions for Cloud Dust, helping my husband as much as I could and writing obituaries and funeral speeches.
The 17th was a date on the family calendar for another reason--it was Walter's oldest brother James' birthday.
James didn't make it to his mother's funeral--he'd had an emergency triple bypass two weeks before his mother passed.
On the 18th, one day after his mother's funeral, James also passed away from complications following his surgery. His funeral is scheduled for tomorrow, which is my birthday.
I think I'll remember turning 60 for as long as I live. The past few days I've spent getting final edits and revisions done on Cloud Dust, while helping my husband and writing obituaries and a funeral speech. I got Cloud Dust uploaded last night.
I want to give huge thanks to Joe Scholes, my editor/proofreader/assistant/best friend, who hauled ass to help me get line edits and every other thing done on Cloud Dust so we could release it.
I also want to thank all of you who've expressed your condolences through this difficult time. You are amazing and I appreciate you more than I can say.
"But death is not the enemy. It takes us when our bodies are no longer prepared to carry on in our current lives. Brings us peace and freedom from pain. It is life that is often the enemy. The siren that convinces us to hold onto it as long as we can, even though we are filled with pain or have lived long past our usefulness. My father always said that we should let our life leave us when it is time and do it gladly, instead of with sorrow and bitterness. Something else awaits us and when we arrive, we will wonder what it was that held us back from it so long."