8th Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Book Fundraiser

For the month of May, Jenn and I will be donating the proceeds from all sales of the Chaos Station series to the 8th Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Book Fundraiser, benefiting the Keith Milano Memorial Fund at the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

I chose to participate in this fundraiser, in part, for Felix, the character I wrote in the series. I can’t remember if we actually ever stated, plainly, in the books, whether Felix suffered from PTSD. It should have been obvious. As a former POW who’d lost everything–his family, his lover, his home–Felix begins the series in much the same condition as his beloved ship, the Chaos. He’s held together with spit and duct tape. His crew is his new family, the ship his new home. His heart is a blank space. His head? He doesn’t go there and would prefer we didn’t either.

I did go there, over the course of five books. Tugging Felix through adventures that were both harmful and healing. At times, writing him brought me to tears. He was in so much pain and my outline only pointed toward more. In the third book, he broke, and it was kind of awful. Continue reading “8th Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Book Fundraiser”

A Day Ending in Y

I started writing this post with the intention of sharing all the interesting things I’d been doing over the past month. I’ve cooked, read over twenty books, watched lots of TV, several movies, played games, started on my spring gardening routine, extended my walking route through the neighborhood, written some words (about half a novella), finally compiled all the novellas and short stories in a single series into one volume for publishing, queried an agent, written blog posts, updated my website, and started sweeping and mopping weekly instead of leaving it until I can no longer see the floor.

I’ve been tempted to start a chart on how many times I have personally unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher so I can compare my dedication to kitchen maintenance to that of the rest of the family. Ditto laundry duty and bathroom cleanings. I don’t need a chart to know I’m putting in the most hours, there, though. I mean, every time I arrive in the kitchen, both sinks are full. I harbor a monster peeve about the stacking of dishes in both sinks. Why not confine the stacking to one sink so at least the other is useable? Or, you know, why not stack the effing dishwasher?

Let’s add experiencing increasing frustration with family members to the list of things I’ve been doing.

Wait, this isn’t the post I wanted to write. Continue reading “A Day Ending in Y”