Have you heard this phrase yet, living your best life? It’s one of those buzz wordy kinds of phrases that I keep hearing but didn’t really think anyone understood what it meant.

So I thought about what living my best life might mean. Does that mean that I need to live my dream life? Quit my job and write full time? Seems like that would be great, someday.

Does that mean I can’t live my best life until then? Or did it maybe mean that I was interpreting that phrase wrong?

Maybe I’ll just decide what my best life should mean to me. Here’s what I came up with.

Choosing the nicer options of things you enjoy, and choosing to save on things you don’t care about.

Let’s say you’ve got to make a purchase. Anything from a cup of coffee to a new car, you have several options, generally ranging in quality and price.

Most of the time we focus on the cheapest, most convenient thing, especially if it’s for ourselves. That’s not always a horrible idea. We have budgets, we have families. We have savings plans. So maybe we can’t afford to get the best car, the $38.00 lipstick. It’s not realistic.

But what if you spend a little extra for that one car feature you really want? What if you get some inexpensive lipstick to afford some rocking foundation that makes your makeup look perfect? What if you just splurge and get a nice cup of coffee once a week to treat yourself?

Making time for fun

I am blessed to live within easy walking distance to our local park. So, sometimes the monsters and I pack up a lunch and go have a picnic there when the weather’s good. Sometimes we’ll all sleep in the living room after marathoning scary movies. And, of course, the weekly episodes of our shows are an event.

Little things that cost little to no money can make a week so much better. If you’re looking at your calendar and see nothing but chores and appointments, then you’re not excited about your life.

Putting a little extra in for yourself.

What are some little things you can do to upgrade your day? For me, it’s things like packing a nice lunch for myself, getting whipped cream for my coffee in the morning, or buying a body wash that I really love. It’s getting up a little earlier so I can put on makeup and spend some quiet time writing in the morning.

These might seem like simple things that shouldn’t matter. But think how much better your day with them.

Here’s an exercise I want you to try with me, especially if you feel like you’re just dragging yourself through most days. Grab a piece of paper, or flip to a blank page in your bullet journal. Start writing down things that you can do, that are in your control, to make a day a really good day.

Take your time, don’t rush. Keep going for as long as you can, thinking of as many wonderful, happy things as you can.

Once you have your list, pick one thing, and do it every single day for the next week. Then, pick something else from your list. See how much happier you can make your day.

Like your home

Full disclosure, I don’t like my house. It’s old and drafty and has un-ending plumbing problems. The walls in the living room are these nasty fake wood paneling, and the carpet is this awful dark hunter green.

But trying to find a house with three bedrooms and a yard in my price range is all but impossible. So I’m stuck with what I’ve got, at least until the kids move out.

I’ve learned that liking my house, liking any home, requires several things. Fortunately, they’re things that you can do anywhere.

1. My bathroom must always be ready for an emergency spa day. That means face masks, bubble bath, scented candles and a nail file.
2. My kitchen needs to always have quick snacks. I don’t ever want to be hungry in my own home.
3. My house needs to be in order.
4. I need a couch. (We lived without one for years. I don’t advise it.)
5. My house needs to smell good.

If I can tick off all of these boxes, then it’s good to be home.

Like your job

I like my day job. It’s not writing, but it’s not torture. I’m respected, I’m good at what I do, and it’s not boring.

You should like your job, even if it’s not your dream job. You’re going to spend a lot of time there, at least until you get to do your dream job. So you should like it.

If you don’t like your job, then maybe you should find a new one. Think about what would make you happy to do every day. Or, at least, what wouldn’t make you miserable.

Learn to cook

I’m not super great at cooking. I’ll be honest, it’s because I lack patience. I have accidentally blown eggs up because I forgot they were boiling.

But over the years I’ve learned to make a week’s worth of meals that I and everyone in the house enjoys. I’ve made good friends with my crock pot because that is the best way to handle a cold day when you have to go to work.

No matter how bad of a cook you are, you can figure out a couple things you’re good at making. Or, at least you can make them in such a way that you like. And maybe it’s just because I’m very food oriented (it’s the southern in me) but if I know that the meal I’m having at the end of the day is a good one, I’m going to have a happier day. A good day is made better with a good dinner, and a bad day can be soothed.

Making every day good

Everyone loves vacations. We love day trips to amusement parks, days at the beach. Snow days where everyone’s home and enjoying everyone’s company. We love holidays, and movie premieres, and book launches. We love special days.

Not every day is a special day. The vast majority of days are average days. We get up, get the kids to school, go to work, come home and make dinner.

The thing of it is, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing! If we wake up to a nice breakfast and a good cup of coffee, surrounded by people we love, to go to a job we enjoy, then come home to a home we adore and a good dinner, then that’s a pretty good life.

That’s your best life.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a September 11^th memorial post. I’ve not necessarily avoided it, I just haven’t done it. There are a lot of good reasons not to do it. I don’t generally post outside of my schedule, I don’t want to rehash things that everyone else has said.

Mostly, though, it felt cheap. I felt like, no matter how sincere I was being, people would see a 9/11 post as pandering.

That’s the last thing I want to do, here.

See, I was fifteen on September 11^th, 2001. I was a high school student, just two years older than my daughters are now. I didn’t care about much of anything, but I was starting to. I was on the school paper, and I was starting to understand that there was a bigger world than what I’d experienced. That things were happening out there that were every bit as exciting, fascinating, terrifying and heartbreaking as any book I could read. Even more so, because they were real.

I watched my country change after that attack. If you don’t live in America, I need to explain this to you. We don’t get attacked on our own soil by foreign enemies. Usually, our terror is more domestic. So for us to be attacked was to shatter a belief that we couldn’t be touched.

In a way, this was strike two for me. I, like the rest of my peers, lived through the terror after the Columbine shooting a few years before. Never before had I realized that someone my own age could have such hate, such anger inside of them.

We watched, my generation and I, as our elders reacted out of fear. Now that I’m an adult, there are so many things I want to say to my country and to my peers.

I’m going to take some time today, to say those things.

Don’t fear strangers.

Isn’t that something we’re taught so early, to fear strangers? Don’t talk to them, you don’t know them! They might take you away. My mom used to say, “Someone might put you in a car and drive away with you.”

That was the big fear of my childhood, someone putting me in a car and driving away with me.

Turns out that most children abducted are actually taken by family members or friends. Go figure.

I like talking to new people, learning about them. I especially love talking to people who have different religions than mine. I like hearing about it.

Maybe we’d all be in a better position if we’d just talk to other people.

Every demographic has horrible people and heroes

Those kids at Columbine were white, Christian boys. So was the Oklahoma City Bomber.

People do bad things, that’s just the long and short of it. There’s not a single religion or creed that doesn’t have at least one crazy person who killed a lot of people. Except for the Amish. Those people haven’t ever done anything bad. But since they don’t have computers, they’re not reading this. So if you’re reading this, someone in your demographic has hurt a lot of people. Accept it, and stop blaming a whole group for the actions of their crazy people.

Don’t curtail freedom out of fear

This might be my own perception, but I feel like the things you aren’t allowed to say or do have just gotten crazy!

Especially comedians. I’m sick of comedians getting in trouble for telling jokes. If a joke is funny, great. If it’s bad, then that’s a bad comedian, not a bad subject.

This drives me nuts because it means that we’re just reacting because we’re afraid. We’re afraid, mostly, of offending someone.

Now, I’m not saying that some jokes don’t offend me. Rape jokes offend me. But if you have a funny rape joke, go ahead and tell it. I’ll just tell you that you’re an ass. That’s your freedom of speech and mine.

Mental health issues are tragically ignored in this country, and we need to do something about it.

Most of the tragedies in this country come down to one thing; someone with mental health issues that weren’t properly treated.

We can talk about gun laws, and we really should. But the best thing a gun law, properly enforced, can do is to limit the number of people hurt. That alone is enough to make it worth our time, but it still won’t solve the problem.

We can talk about protecting our schools, and we should. I’m all for metal detectors and security guards in schools.

But until mental health is treated like physical health, we’re only fighting half of the battle.

If you feel like you or someone you love is suffering from depression or any sort of mental issue, please seek help. Don’t ignore signs of trouble in your children or other family members. And don’t belittle someone for seeking mental health. Especially not yourself.

Remember that we’re citizens of Planet Earth, and we all need to work together.

Don’t tell yourself that what happens in the rest of the world doesn’t matter to you. What happens in one corner of the world impacts all of us, whether we realize it or not. Reach out to anyone you can help, even a little. If you have a blog, talk to a worldwide audience and give comfort when you can.

Don’t forget that we, the human race, are all in this together. It’s time we started acting like it.

The wait is finally over, Starting Chains is available today!

After years of war between Montelair and Septa, the two thrones are united by family. Victor’s nephew, Morgan, is sharing the throne with the last heir of the royal line, Jacob. He and Lenore decide to travel to Montelair with their newborn daughters to help broker peace.

But peace among their own people is harder to achieve. The city is tormented by a terrorist who calls himself The Tinker. He and his group of anarchists plant bombs through the city and call for the death of the new kings from every street corner.

Meanwhile in Calistar, Sultiana and Devon are marching to war with Kussier. The ancient hatred between the two countries is sprung anew when Sultiana is declared heir to the Calistar throne.

Waiting at the border, though, is a much darker enemy. A force from legend threatens to consume both countries, and possibly the world.

Here is what the amazing fantasy author, ML Spencer, had to say about it. Here, also, is a link to her book. Because everyone should be reading her book.

“A heartfelt story of honor, betrayal, and trust that turns gender and cultural stereotypes on their heads.”

“A comprehensive blend of strong female characters submerged in a diverse setting.”

“A fantasy for our time.”

“A novel that confronts long-held genre stereotypes and comes out triumphant on the other side.”

If you haven’t already ordered Starting Chains, here’s a link.

We’ll be having a Facebook party today from 6:00 to 9:00. There will be games and takeovers from other awesome authors. Here’s a full list of all of the participating authors.

6:30- Mercedes Prunty

7:00- Ryan Batla

7:30- Angela J. Ford

8:00- Sarah Buhrman

8:30- Diane Morrison

And, of course, I’ll be giving away free copies of Starting Chains. There are three ways to win.

1. Comment on this post.
2. Tweet using #Woven today.
3. Say something on Facebook using #Woven.

Best of luck to all of you. And thanks for reading.

Here is Chapter Three of Starting Chains. If you missed Chapters One or Two, here are some links for you

Chapter

Three

Victor was hiding a yawn behind his fist when Talmadge came into his office. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep.

She was a short girl with a neat gown and the sloppiest braid in Septa. She looked around the room, terror written on her face.

“Sorry,” Victor said as he stood to greet her. “I haven’t gotten an hour sleep at a time in a few days now. Our nurse tells me that’s common, with infants. Have a seat.”

She looked at the chair he’d indicated, a heavy wooden one with a cushioned seat, as though it must surely be a trick. Finally, though, she sat.

“Do you like the new office?” Victor asked as he took his seat behind the desk. It was a large desk, highly polished. The room had a set of double doors that led out to the garden. There was a thick blue rug on the floor. “I’ve been appointed the Queen’s Apprentice, learning how to keep a palace. Apparently that takes lots of time, work, far too much book keeping and a whole office.”

“I’m sorry, why am I here?” Talmadge asked.

Victor grinned at her. “Wait. We’re missing someone.”

There was a knock on the door. When he called a greeting, two guards escorted Thomas, the disgraced spymaster of Septa, into the room.

Prison obviously had not agreed with Tom. His fine clothes had been replaced by undyed, rough spun cloth. His usually well cared for hair looked greasy.

The guards dropped Tom in front of the desk. Talmadge shied away from her former employer, but Victor’s grin widened. “How’s prison?” he asked. “From what I remember, the food was a little uninspired.”

“Prince Victor,” Tom sputtered.

“Oh, I do love to hear you use my shiny new title,” Victor said, “Especially since the last time we spoke you were calling me a traitor and advising the king to execute me.”

“Sire, I was misled,” Tom said, “My informants-,”

“No, shut your damn mouth,” Victor said, his smile dropping away. “I was your informant, you sneaking coward. You think I’m stupid enough to fall for the same lie you tried to use against me?”

“Again, why am I here?” Talmadge asked.

“Because I want to offer you his old job, and I want him to know I’m offering it to you.”

“Are you kidding?” Tom cried, “She’s an untrained maid, for Creator’s sake!”

“No, she’s a maid who can read all of your codes, and has been feeding you information for years,” Victor said. He leaned across his desk, and glared down at Tom. “You’re a bad spy, but you’re really good at using talented people.”

“I think you’re vastly overstating my talents,” Talmadge said, wringing her fingers.

“This wasn’t my idea,” Victor said, “It was King Samuel’s. He’s just delegating it to me. Though I happen to think he’s right.”

“The king really has lost his mind,” Tom said.

Victor stood. In his fury, his hands glowed blue with magic. “You will watch how you speak of that man in front of me,” he growled. “I owe him my world. Talmadge will be our spymaster, and we’re going to toss you into the same dark hole we threw Marcus.”

“Wait,” Talmadge said, holding a hand up. “Don’t lock him up.”

“Why?” Victor asked, “He was a terrible master to you.”

“But we can use him,” she said, “You and the king think I’m a good spy, but I’m not. It’s just that, well, people are more willing to talk around you if they think you’re a nobody. So, if you tell everyone I’m the spymaster, I won’t learn anything new.”

“Ah, but if people still think this fool is in charge they won’t pay attention to you,” Victor said. “See, I knew you’d be good at this. You can keep him, if you want. You’ll have to watch him carefully, though.”

“Of course,” Talmadge said.

“What makes you think I’d agree to this insulting situation?” Tom spat.

She took a deep breath and stood, looking Tom full in the face for what Victor was sure was the first time. “Well, you can do this, or I’ll pick a pretty face off the street and the king can toss you back in a cell. I can work just as well with any warm body in that seat.”

Tom looked sober at that. Finally, he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Fine. I am happy to serve the throne.”

“Thank you for your service,” Victor said. The guards escorted Tom from the room, and Victor turned his attention back to Talmadge.

“Are you really sure about this?” Talmadge asked, “If this is about me finding those letters, you don’t owe me anything. It didn’t even work. The king was still going to execute you.”

“Madge, if this was just about thanking you, I’d give you a title and some land,” Victor said. “But I cannot afford to have someone I don’t trust as spymaster. I need you to tell me what’s going on in the city.”

“Yes,” Talmadge said, giving him a nod. “You’re right about that. People are angry, and they’re whispering.”

“How many of them are whispering about my wife?” he asked.

“More than we should be comfortable with.”

Victor nodded. “I can’t imagine half of the noble families leaving the court in protest is helping.”

“You and Anthony must stay close to Lenore. She’s in more danger now than ever.”

“Yeah,” Victor said. He stood, and went to the doors to look out at the garden. Lenore was there, with Ramona and the babies. They were napping on a blanket in the sunlight. “You know, she saved this damn city from Marcus. You’d think people would be grateful.”

“And there are hundreds who are,” Talmadge said, “She spent her youth taking care of people behind the Elder Brother’s back. She spins light and darkness into thread. Lots of people are ready to fight for her. They even accept you because of her.”

“That’s the problem,” Victor said, “It’s not just that people are angry, it’s the division. The whole city’s ready to tear each other apart.”

Talmadge smiled, “She’ll win them over. She’s good like that.”

Victor smiled too. “Who knows better than me how easy Lenore is to love?

Starting Chains is coming out this Friday, but you can pre-order it right now. 

And please join us on Facebook on Friday for the launch party!

I am so excited that it’s September!

September is my favorite month of the year. Fall starts and pumpkin flavored things abound. The kids are back to school, meaning I have a lot more time to write. The holidays are just weeks away. (I start celebrating Halloween October first. My kids already have their costumes figured out because they usually take me two months to get done.)

And, it’s Banned Books Month!

I’m celebrating with a banned book, of course. I’m re-reading the Harry Potter series. You know they’ve been banned, right? Because they have.

I’ll also be asking all of my author friends on social media to join with me in telling the world why our books would be banned, using hashtag #banmybook on either Twitter or Facebook.

I honestly can’t think of a single reason to ever ban a book. I’ve told my kids that a book is too old for them, and they would have to wait until they were older. But I’ve never told them they couldn’t read a book ever.

I’ve read books I didn’t like. I’ve read books I didn’t agree with. I’ve, in fact, flipped off displays of books when I’ve seen them in public. (I’m not always a lady.) But I’ve never, ever, seen a book that I think should be banned.

How could anyone want to ban an idea?

That’s why we celebrate this holiday every year. To remind us that we must always stay vigilant against censorship in any form and oppression in any degree.

Please tell us in the comment section what you’re reading for Banned Books Month. And, join the conversation on social media with #banmybook.

I’m participating in Lisa Jacobs’ 18 Before 2018 challenge. This is the third year I’ve done this, and I can’t begin to tell you how much it helps me.

By this time of the year, my yearly goals are in disarray. This year, for instance, I wanted to do so many things! Many of my goals I’ve accomplished or are on the way to being accomplished. Some I decided weren’t important to me anymore.

Some, however, are super important, but I don’t really want to do them. Things like building an emergency fund, getting my drivers license, (yes, I am 31. Don’t judge.) and decluttering my house. There are also a few different projects that I’ve been dreading, like tearing down my Wix site so that Indie Creative is all the way switched over to the WordPress site.

It’s just a lot of little things, and some just plain boring things, that I need to get cleared out before the end of the year.

This is a useful practice, and I highly suggest it to all of you. Start by clicking over to Lisa Jacob’s site, and read her instructions.

Because I know you’ll all keep me accountable, I’d like to share my 18 Before 18 list with you today. I’d also like to invite you to share links to your own lists in the comment section below. That way we can help each other out.

1. Take care of the list of debt I didn’t know I had until I went for an audit in preparation for buying a car. The things you learn…
2. Finish Virus, and start posting it on Paper Beat’s World. (Coming November 29^th)
3. Finish Missing Stitches, book 3 of Woven. (Should be available in mid-2018 because of reasons.)
4. Publish Starting Chains. (September 8^th.)
5. Cancel my Fiverr account. (As part of changing my personal mindset about my business and simplifying things.)
6. Make and stick to a much stricter budget.
7. Save up an emergency fund.
8. Celebrate my darling husband’s birthday
9. Have successful holidays (What does a successful holiday mean? That’s different for every family. I do suggest taking some time to make a list of what would make your holidays successful.)
10. Get back into a routine of taking my vitamins.
11. Get back into a healthy skin care routine.
12. Clear out old Wix site.
13. Clean out and remodel my office.
14. Get my driver’s license.
15. Start a more solid free writing practice. Like, every day for example.
16. Start a yoga practice.
17. Finish my submissions for two more anthologies. (By the way, I have a short in an anthology coming out on September 15^th. It’s called Project 9. Keep an eye out for more information.)
18. Boost my FB following for Indie Creatives. (Not sure how I’m going to do that yet.)

As you can see, these are a little all over the place. But if I can get these 18 things done, I’ll go into 2018 feeling like I have a handle on things and am ready to progress.

What’s on your 18 Before 2018 list?

I might start getting weepy during this post, not gonna lie.

Three years ago today, I posted a blog post called, “I am a writer.”

About a month before that, I’d started cautiously writing a book about a boy who weaves, named Devon. I’d thought that he might have a bratty older sister.

I truly believe that the fact that I started writing this blog is the reason I kept going with Broken Patterns.

Because you all kept me accountable.

Now, three years later, we’ve grown. I’ve got a total of four books out, with another coming out this year.

By the way, if you go to the Wanna Buy a Book link above, you can find two free books from me. As a thank you, to all of you, for supporting me.

As another thank you, I’m going to be giving away free e-copies of either Seeming or You Can’t Trust The AI to four people.

Here’s how to enter.

Post on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram using the hashtag #PaperBeatsWorld. Or, comment on this blog post.

Thank you all again, for another great year. Here’s to many more to come.

If you missed last week, I shared the first chapter of Starting Chains. Now, here is Chapter Two.

Chapter

Two

Sultiana tilted her head back to feel the sun on her bare face. It was the first time she’d felt it without her veil since she’d come of age. She exulted in knowing that she would never wear one again.

She looked down from the sky, and smiled at the scene before her. She stood in the tile covered courtyard in front of the palace of Calistar, her home. Great clay basins overflowing with desert flowers spotted the area. The tiles and fountain were covered in a thick carpet of cherry blossoms, sent as a gift from Queen Shori of Coveline.

Her Father, King Omar, stood in front of the fountain. He was a huge man with a bald head and a neatly trimmed beard. Like all royalty in Calistar, he wore white silk that fluttered in the wind. He was smiling with such pride that it made Sultiana’s heart swell. But her eyes were drawn to Devon.

The man who would be her husband was dressed in noble white silk, with his dagger tucked into his belt. He was conspicuous, being the only white man in attendance, likely in the whole country. The desert wind ruffled his thick curly hair. He was everything she had ever wanted him to be.

Sultiana started down the aisle, the gold coins on the hem of her white silk gown making music as she went. She did her best to keep her eyes on friendly faces. Neva, Omar’s new wife, was standing among Sultiana’s little sisters. She was no more than a few years older than Sultiana. She wore a white veil over her face, with a coiled braid on the top of her head like a crown. Her belly was swollen with child, and she set a hand on it as she beamed at Sultiana.

Aini and Cala, the two younger girls, were trying to stand without bouncing in excitement. Aini, as always, had a crooked veil, and her braid was coming undone. Cala looked just like their mother for who she was named, with an upturned nose and lighter skin than her sisters. Chrissie, the second oldest, was trying to look stern and disinterested behind her veil. As she was too young for such a look, it came off as pouty.

The crowd was full of men and women of Calistar. Some were excited, and tossed flower petals as she walked. Many, too many for her comfort, stood with arms crossed. Many men wouldn’t even look at her, choosing instead to look at the ground or at the people standing in a cluster at the fountain.

She tilted her head high, and smiled for Devon anyway. When she reached him, he held his hands out to her. “You look amazing,” he whispered.

“Truly, you do,” Omar said. He set his hands over theirs, and said, “Brothers and sisters, it brings me the greatest of joy and honor to join together my daughter, Princess Heir Sultiana and Prince Devon of Septa. Theirs was a union decided upon years ago, an arrangement that was to forge a bond of family between Calistar and Septa. This their marriage will do, and so much more.”

He smiled over the crowd, though few smiled back. “They enter their marriage as friends. They have trained and fought together. They share a sacred bond, as the first woman to wield steel magic, and the first man with thread magic. With this foundation of mutual respect and appreciation, and with the gods of both lands smiling upon them, surely they will be ready for whatever the future holds for our great country.”

There was some hissing from the crowd.

“And,” Omar said, talking louder, “Sultiana, as our first ruling queen, will surely bring the smile of the goddesses upon our lands.”

Chrissie made a noise that could have been a snort, but Aini elbowed her in the side.

“Now, before the eyes of our people and the gods themselves, I declare you to be husband and wife.”

Sultiana and Devon leaned towards each other for their first kiss, at least the first one anyone else knew of. Their old training master, Shilom, cheered. He was a shorter man, battle worn, in blue scholars robes. Kadar, Omar’s chief adviser, cheered as well. Kadar’s hair was set in hundreds of small braids, each with a red bead at the end that clacked together as he cheered. Neva, the little girls, and a handful of others joined them. Many others remained silent.

Stella, Princess of Coveline and Devon’s student, hurried to his side as people came to congratulate them. She was a young dragon, blue in color with silver ridges across her long back. As most people in Calistar were not accustomed to seeing dragons on a regular basis, she was given a wide berth.

“Master Devon,” she said, “are you alright?”

“Well, of course,” Devon said, laughing. “I’m wonderful in fact, why?”

“Your hand is twitching,” she said. Her friend Hiro joined them. A full blooded Vondrai dragon, he was longer than Stella with thinner legs. “Can I help you to your rooms?” he asked.

“I’m fine for now, thank you,” Devon said.

“Let’s go into the dining hall,” Omar said.

“Yes,” Sultiana said. She took Devon’s hand, and noticed that his fingers did seem to be twitching. As they led the way into the palace, she said, “Do you need to go to your loom?”

“I think the vision can wait,” he said, “I’m not ready to break up the party.”

A man dressed in the trades tribe yellow came to Devon’s side, and clapped him on the shoulder. He was a young man with a prominent nose. “May I be the first to congratulate you?” he asked, “Surely you have married the loveliest woman in the world. And I should know, because I’ve seen most of it.”

“Thank you,” Devon said, offering his hand to shake. “What’s your name?”

“I am Ferris, the leader of the traders tribe,” he said. “I hope that you will find our tribe more open minded then some others. We are ready to move into the future.”

“Yes, we are,” said a woman who walked next to Ferris. She also wore yellow and like Sultiana, she was unveiled. “Princess, I’m Fidal, and I can’t thank you enough for my new freedom. When my brother and I are abroad, I don’t wear my veil. It’s amazing how itchy it feels when you’re not accustomed to it.”

“So I’ve learned,” Sultiana said, grinning.

“Well,” said an older woman in scholars blue. Sultiana recognized her as Gia, her History and Language instructor from childhood. “If you young girls are going to go about unveiled, I suppose I’ll be alright.” She removed her veil, and bowed to Sultiana. “And I would like to extend a thank you, from the women of my tribe.”

“For what?” Sultiana asked.

“For making history,” Gia said. She turned, and gestured towards the crowd. Women in blue and yellow were removing their veils and letting them flutter away in the wind. Many of them giggled, some looked unsure, some even cheered. Sultiana noticed that the farming women in green, the shepherd women in orange, and what few smith women in red who were present, kept their veils steadily on. She didn’t care a bit. Let them stay behind their veils if they wanted, she would never be bound to one again.

Devon’s hands were shaking. He looked up at the cloud of veils wafting in the breeze, and said, “I’m sorry, but I think I might need to go to our rooms after all, ‘Tiana. Can you help me?”

“Yes,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the sight. She took him by the arm, leaving Omar and Stella to explain.

Sultiana pulled him through the halls of the palace, past the marble pillars that supported the walls covered in carvings and tapestries that showed the history of her people. Their boots clicked over tiles of every color.

Finally, she pulled him into their series of rooms. The sitting room was decorated with a plush red carpet, an ornate table, and a loom with a cushion before it. It was there that she led Devon to. His hands sought the thread and started to fly.

Chrissie and Neva joined them. Neva was holding a plate of food, grape leaves stuffed with lamb and rice. She sat it next to Sultiana.

“People are muttering,” Chrissie said.

“Let them,” Sultiana replied. “The man’s a seer, I don’t know what they expect.”

An image was taking shape on Devon’s loom.

“Having a Septan husband who weaves was hard enough without you letting all of those women take their veils off. Then he’s got to have a little episode,” she muttered.

“Chrissie,” Neva snapped, “you should show more respect for Goddess Malonie. She sent these visions to the prince.”

“I wish She’d send them somewhere else,” Chrissie said.

Devon slumped on his cushion. Sultiana looked at the image. It was a coin, in the process of spinning. On both sides were woman’s faces. One smiled and one wept.

“What is this?” Sultiana asked.

Devon leaned against her, and gratefully took the grape leaf she offered him. “Our nieces,” he said, “I don’t know what it means, but I know it’s them.”

“But they’re not even born yet,” Chrissie said.

Just then, a woven cuff on Devon’s wrist started to glow blue. He smiled, and said, “I can hear you, Lenore. Have they got ten fingers and toes apiece?” After a few minutes, he added. “That’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see them. I’ll talk to you, soon.”

He grinned at Sultiana, and the glow faded from his cuff. “The girls are named Eleanor and Loralie.”

“Big day, all things considered,” Sultiana said.

If you love this, please grab your copy of Starting Chains on September 8th! And, get your copy of Broken Patterns, Book One, right now.

Spoiler Alert: If you’ve never read Memoirs of a Geisha, I’m about to ruin the ending for you! Please read the book before proceeding, or accept that you will have the ending ruined.

Hi, my name is Nicole, and I’m an outspoken feminist. I’ve mentioned this pretty often, it’s kind of a thing with me.

You’d think a book about a woman who’s whole life revolved around becoming a mistress to a powerful man would offend my sensibilities. In fact, you’d think that this sort of book would piss me right the hell off.

So why do I like Memoirs of a Geisha so damn much?

I thought of this while camping with my family. I didn’t want to bring my tablet, so I brought two books. Tommyknockers, which I’ve never read before, and Memoirs of a Geisha, which I’ve read often.

Of course, I ended up reading Geisha.

How does a book that should upset me catch me not just once, but over and over? What is it about this book that so enchants me? Well, I decided to break it down, so that I can learn from it.

The main character’s troubles are not her fault, but she fights.

Chiyo starts out as a poor man’s daughter. Her mother is sick, and her father is old. And so her father, who has already buried one family, sells his daughters into slavery.

The main character has no power, no leverage. But she’s determined to save herself from the life she’s been forced into.

Granted, the first time she tries she ends up breaking her arm, but she keeps trying. And when she meets The Chairman, she focuses herself on her one and only desire. And she does not give up. She uses any tool she has to get what she wants.

The details are wonderful.

I love Japan. The Shinto faith is fascinating. I love their art. I love their food! I even love the tea ceremony and all of its traditions.

The country, the world, the culture is described in this book in exquisite. While I’m reading it, I can feel the thick white makeup on my face. I can see the elaborate kimono, taste the rice balls. If you want to learn to write details, read this book.

It’s a view of World War II that I haven’t seen before

Remember how I read all sorts of fiction about the Holocaust? Well, while that living nightmare was happening in Germany, and we were imprisoning Japanese Americans stateside, Japan was living through the war as well. People who’d never heard of Pearl Harbor lost their homes, their families, their lives. To see the war from that point of view was new for me. It’s fascinating.

The story telling sucks you in and does not let you go.

Most of the book is told from the point of view of Sayuri, the main character. And it’s told as though she’s sitting in front of you, telling you the story herself. The whole story has a very conversational tone, making it intimate and distant at the same time.

Altogether, even though I hate the ending, this is a masterfully told story that is totally honest.

What do you think? Have you read Memoirs of a Geisha? Do you have a book that you’d like me to pick apart? Let me know in the comments below.

Hey, guys. Hapy Saturday.

I just wanted to pop in here for a minute to tell you that Starting Chains is now offically available for pre-order!

After years of war between Montelair and Septa, the two thrones are united by family. Victor’s nephew, Morgan, is sharing the throne with the last heir of the royal line, Jacob. He and Lenore decide to travel to Montelair with their newborn daughters to help broker peace.

But peace among their own people is harder to achieve. The city is tormented by a terrorist who calls himself The Tinker. He and his group of anarchists plant bombs through the city and call for the death of the new kings from every street corner.

Meanwhile in Calistar, Sultiana and Devon are marching to war with Kussier. The ancient hatred between the two countries is sprung anew when Sultiana is declared heir to the Calistar throne.

Waiting at the border, though, is a much darker enemy. A force from legend threatens to consume both countries, and possibly the world.

Here’s a link to the pre-order page.

Here, also, is a link to the first chapter.

And a link to buy book one, Broken Patterns. In case you haven’t read it yet.

As always, thank you all for your support. Have a great weekend.