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This morning I sat at the window seat at KJ’s cafe, which opened up limited seating just yesterday. It’s my favorite spot to work uninterrupted, and still hear and feel activity going on around me.

I saw some familiar faces, chatted with friends and family, (while wearing masks), and then went back to work, sipping my large iced coffee. Ah! Heaven in a cup.

Although I’m still in edit mode for the book just finished, I’ve set out on a marketing spree, checking out websites that will “shout out” my newest book, enrolling in promotions, one specifically that’s highlighting sports romances, creating new posts using Canva, and making a list of  “tweets” so I’m ready to put something new out there every day. This is the most difficult part of the writing process for me. I become so engrossed in the story I forget about the other pieces I should be attending to in order to make sales. I’ve often said I’d do this for nothing, and have some months, but it’s always gratifying to see that someone purchased one of my books. (I actually do a happy dance)

Today I’m strategizing on how to get my new series out in the world. It’s close to my heart and I believe it contains an important message.

Everyday Goddesses, is more contemporary women’s lit than romance. Drawing on the sacred images of the ancient world, each story is designed to capture the essence of the most prominent goddesses. My intent is to show that every woman, living thousands of years ago or today, embodies the same qualities that were once honored and respected. According to history, and the discovery of artifacts that date back to the Paleolithic period, humanity’s first image of life was the mother. It was a time when children considered themselves part of the natural world, in kinship with all of life, a part of the whole.

It’s one of the reasons I chose Rhea to go first. She was daughter of Gaia and considered “mother of the gods”, Zeus her most famous son. She was the creative source of Life, not of the world, but the world herself.

In Magic Bean Cafe, Rhea is mother to Willow, keeper of the hearth, owner of the best coffee shop in town, where all are welcome. She’s a natural caretaker, representing maternal instincts, and is nurturing, responsible and compassionate. Women like Rhea  always run the risk of neglecting their own needs in service to others.

How many of us have neglected out our needs, at one time or another, to take care of others? How many of us have birthed a child or a career, and nurtured it, sustained it, and protected it?

In the second book, Once There Was a Tree,  I’ve chosen to illuminate Gwenhywfar, a Celtic goddess, ferocious warrior and co-ruler of Britain. She had a fierce spirit, a dragon’s fire, and with spear in hand, a face painted for war, she went into battle armed and ready.

Gwen, the character in this story, is disciplined, and competitive, an ex-army vet whose  fighting spirit was on full display when stationed in the Middle East. When she is air-lifted out with an injury, she totters into “maiden” territory, where she becomes more passive, reluctant to accept she is more than what she thinks. By enduring emotional and physical loss, she’s propelled forward and is able to reclaim her warrior identity, that of a creative and passionate woman, who displays profound inner strength.

How many of us have gone through hardships that seemed unsurmountable and had to work our way back? How many of us have defeated the foe or demon, usually through resilience and persistence? How many have found that once they had, they were stronger for it?

As women, we shape shift through all the archetypes at one time or another, encompassing them all over the course of our lives, be it Lover, Mother, Maiden, Queen, Huntress, Sage, or Mystic.

We are all everyday goddesses, goddesses in some form every day.

As I head toward the finish line of Can’t Be Tamed, I’ve come to realize there’s a piece missing from the story.

Lilith Varsela has gone cold, and marriage is now off the table. She loves her unpartnered way of life and she’s not changing that status for anyone. As captain of her own ship, she works at a job she loves and has made a name for herself. She has her own home, and is surrounded by women who support and empower her.

But she didn’t always feel that way. In fact, she was once engaged to be married but that ended in a debacle and a complete alienation from her family. Of course, that’s the underlying reason she’s given up on those kinds of dreams.

Today, her ex is married to her sister, Veronica, and four years later, Lil is still carrying around her resentment, and it’s become a bitter kernel that’s hardened her heart. It’s not that she lost the love of her life. The third time she postponed the wedding, everyone knew it was only a matter time before she called it off completely. That her sister stepped into the void shouldn’t have made her so angry, but for some reason, she can’t seem to move toward forgiveness.

Veronica has appeared a couple of times to this point, but only superficially, and even I’m not sure who she is. There are questions I need to answer before I can move the story forward. Why did Veronica insinuate herself into Hugh’s heart, even though she knew it was wrong? Did she know it would cause the kind of explosive reaction that it did? Was this a first, or did she always try to take what was Lil’s. Which leads me to pose the question, what was their prior relationship like? What roles did they play in the family and how did their parents influence the dynamics?

I need to go back and dig deeper into Lil’s childhood, uncover the sibling rivalries, flesh out the parents who were quick to forgive the betrayer, while allowing the betrayed to stand alone.

I usually have all this down before I begin, but in this case I neglected to do so, so focused on the story between Lil and Niall. But as Niall inches his way into her heart, Lil wants resolution with her family. The only way she can heal that rift, is if she understands Veronica’s vulnerabilities and her motives, and admits to herself that it all worked out for the best. She can’t do that, until I clear the path for her.

It only proves that secondary characters can be as important to develop as primary ones. Where a person comes from, is an important piece to understanding where she’s is, where she’s going, and how she can get there.

It’s my job to get Lil where she’s meant to be.

I’m always looking for new and fresh ideas to bring to my novels. And it seems I’m always pointed in the right direction, one I might call a synchronous direction, to fill in some of the blanks. In Once Upon a Tree, I found this wonderful book whose cover was Gwen made manifest in tree form. The book itself suggests that some trees grow in isolation, living a proud but precarious existence, a description that might fit the ex-vet, who lost a limb fighting on remote mountainsides. Her beauty comes from her courage, her fierce protective spirit, and in time she will rise, like the mighty tree and touch the sun.

While writing Can’t Be Tamed, I found an old film I saw in college that resonated. History was always my passion. I loved learning about people, times and cultures. I remember being entranced by the movie, haunted by the images and the meaning of what it represented. It stirred the first flickers of feminism, and those flickers have grown stronger with age. The Burning Times is one segment of a trilogy that separates the history of women’s spirituality into long-past, past and present. The pre-history speaks to the Feminine Divine ‘s existence, and how it was subsumed over time by the “sky”. (a reference to male power and domination). Where women were once the healers, the leaders, the planters, the wise ones, they were reduced to nothing; their way of life exterminated during what has come to be known as the witch trials. These executions didn’t only occur in Salem, Massachusetts, but all over the world. The Spanish Inquisition, another method used to diminish what women brought to the earth, and in the process, destroyed the organic way of life.

Thankfully, the feminine divine is reemerging. After centuries of oppression, women are offering inspiration, courage and community, something desperately needed in today’s world. Through myth, we see her as goddess, an archetype that lives within us all. It is spiritual in nature, the sacred center of our being, and it brings us to life. Many have been caught up in this movement of celebration, reclaiming their true selves, reaffirming their powerful energies, and connecting them to something bigger than themselves.

My series, Everyday Goddesses, explores the aspects of this archetype; nurturer,  warrior, protector, wise one, healer, story weaver, planter, and one who studies what remains after death. Each is a fragment of the whole, and when brought together, are able to exhume the long-forgotten awareness of who they are, strengthen their individual gifts, and foster the type of community that enriches them.

and it is a welcome change. I was at my favorite coffee shop yesterday for the first iced chocolate marshmallow since they closed in March. They re-opened on Monday to the delight of the community. Everyone that came in was wearing a mask and keeping their distance, but the smiles at the semblance of normalcy, were deeply satisfying.

My days are full with editing, blurb writing, putting together an acknowledgment and a “to my readers” page for June first, when the completed manuscript of Once There Was A Tree will go to my formatter. All while I continue to write, Can’t Be Tamed. I’ve had to take breaks along the way to fully flesh out the characters that have found a home there. Cerridwen will come after Lilith and I’ve had to introduce her more fully into the story line, along with her nemesis, the male lead. Zain Bishara was absent when I began to develop the series, but he popped up out of nowhere as a new medical examiner. It screamed conflict and I’ve been having fun creating a man who will enflame Cerri in more ways than one. He was, after all, the man who Cerri claims caused the cave-in that almost buried her alive. New characters are coming alive on the page again and I am happily engaged in the process. 

I can’t believe I’m already on book four of the eight part series and as my mind wanders farther down the road, I can envision another four or five women entering the sacred circle that has been formed by the women of Eden. They did once talk about increasing their numbers to thirteen, the number of moon cycles in a year. Miko was an addition I didn’t anticipate, which means a story of her own, and Zain’s mother Kimani, is an anthropology professor who will bump up the median age of the group, and add a crone to the mix, if they let her in. The juices are flowing, and I am squeezing them for all they’re worth. 

I do love this writing life of mine. 

Today I’m making peace of mind a priority.

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks and as I sit here, I ache for quiet, routine, and connection to my inner self. It’s been over six weeks since the dogs went to day care and my husband went to his “office”. The barking commences with every truck that goes by, my husband comes in and out of the house when the mood suits, chatting about what trade took place or how many Facebook likes he’s gotten on a post. Worst of all, my characters are no more than paper-doll cutouts rather than the three dimensional images my fertile mind used to come up with.

My dog has been sick for close to a month, the sun has yet to come out for more than a day or two straight, and my imagination has taken a sabbatical. Is it burnout or depression? A combination of them both? I think it has more to do with my inability to spend thirty consecutive minutes of quiet time with my thoughts. I want to conjure again, through the magic of my muse, but the space where I used to listen is gone.

Maybe what I truly want is the return of in-person, face to face connections. A place to go to people watch, while people talk around me, where I can read body language, listen to the tone of voices, as human touch through eyes, ears, and heart becomes manifest. I’m out of sync, missing eye contact, hugs, painfully aware of how our new normal has left us unable to match that “infinitely fine-tuned communication system” that our bodies and brains crave.

The new issue of Psychology Today contains many articles about our changed world and how it is affecting us, how we can adapt, how to change, and why we shouldn’t look back on the halcyon days that existed only a few months ago.  We’re all finding our way through this maze called the new reality, some faster than others. I have a feeling when the sun comes out tomorrow, my perspective will change and the day will seem brighter.

If I could only play some of my music, maybe the sun would come out today, if only metaphorically. And maybe, just maybe, my muse might be enticed out to dance again.

My husband will be going out to check his mail in a while…  I can’t wait to ask Alexa for some Stevie Nicks, Keith Urban, or The Dixie Chicks. They might make all the difference.