Hi, yes, I’m still here

Happy Saturday, dear readers (if any of you are still out there). I know it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted anything on this blog. I keep thinking about it and meaning to, but life has gotten in the way. This year has gotten in the way. I’m sure you can understand that as we’re all living through the same year, even if we are experiencing it in different ways.

But, yes, I’m still here. And, yes, I’ve still been writing.

I just wanted to check in with this blog and with you before the end of the year. And I wanted to say that one of my goals in the new year is to post here more regularly (and for me that means once a week). I need to get back in the habit of writing very short stories while working on my longer writing. It is good and it keeps the ideas flowing. Even though sometimes it is hard to find time for both.

I also wanted to say that I need to write more here about what I’m thinking about and reading about and doing in life. Because life influences our work and our writing and our creativity. So you might see more posts about the process than before. You might see more posts about how my activist work impacts my writing and thinking than before. You might get posts about what I’m reading than before. Or not…we all have to see what this next year brings. But I wanted to let you know there will be changes. And if you keep reading, that’s wonderful. And if you don’t, that’s fine, too.

We’re all just stumbling through this year, this life together. And some of us our writing our way through it, too.

I hope that you are able to find moments of relaxation, reflection, and rejuvenation as we come to the end of the year. I hope that you are able to find moments of joy. I hope you are able to fill yourself up so you can create and share your creations with the world.

I hope.

I continue to write, and take deep breathes, and figure out this whole writing and living thing and I know you are, too.

I hope you have a wonderful day and find wonder in the small things that can bring us joy. Like twinkle lights and hot cups of tea and an unexpected card in the mail or text from a friend. Let’s continue this journey together. Thank you, as always, for reading, for listening, for creating, for being.

In Solidarity

Yellow Peril Supports Black Power

“Yellow Peril Supports Black Power” by Monyee Chau

Hello, my friends. I hope that you are staying healthy and safe. That you are fighting the good fight and writing the good write. I’m straying today from posting a new short story or updates on writing and reading, to say on this site what should be obvious to all, but seems to still be falling on some unwilling ears: Black Lives Matter, violence against peaceful protesters is unacceptable, white supremacy needs to be dismantled in our country along with structural racism and the militarization of our police forces that support this continued inequality and inequity. It is ridiculous, shameful, and immoral that we have continued to allow the state of affairs to continue for so long and that we still have people who are more concerned for their own privilege and comfort than for their neighbors’ very lives.

I stand in solidarity with the Black community and with my other siblings of color in wanting and working towards a world where white supremacy and institutionalized racism no longer exist. Where we have equity and justice and peace. These are hard days and hard times, but those of us who have privilege, in whatever form, need to use our voices, dollars, and actions to support, uplift, and affirm the work and very lives of our siblings who are being threatened.

As writers, readers, creatives, people,  we have the responsibility to use our voices, our words, our actions to uplift each other, support each other, and challenge each other to do better. In the words of Maya Angelou, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

I want us all to know better so we can do better.

It is incumbent on us to see our everyday lives as the space where we need to continually challenge ourselves and each other to become anti-racist allies. To educate ourselves, instead of forcing BIPOC to expend more emotional labor to educate us. I say this as a mixed race woman who is of Japanese and German descent. I have both been on the receiving end of racism and received the privileges of “passing” as white depending on the mood and makeup of the white people around me. I work to use my relative position of privilege not to keep others down, but to work on myself and to work with others to use that privilege, in whatever (small) ways I can, to work to end white supremacy and create the kind of world I want for my daughter and for all children of color.

There are many, many creatives, activists, organizations who know so much more and do so much more and I want to highlight just a few things that may resonate with you as a creative, as a writer, as a reader. Read Ally Henny’s post on how to begin to decolonize your bookshelf.  Read, watch, follow, or all of the above, any of the resources/sources listed on this Forbes article, “First, Listen. Then, Learn. Anti-Racism Resources for White People.” I have to point out especially, Dr. Jennifer L. Eberhardt’s book, Biased: Uncovering the Hidden Prejudice that Shapes What We See, Think, and Do as an amazing resource among so many others.

While we, as writers and creatives, may create worlds of fantasy and daydream about distant galaxies. We all live on this one planet, in this one world. We cannot be apart from it. And we can use our creativity, our solidarity to make it better. To say we are sorry for our complicity in these structures that we all live in and to help shape new structures that uphold the dignity and humanity of us all.

Thank you for reading. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay kind. And use your talents for the good because at the end of the day, it’s up to each of us to do what we can for the good to squash the insidious evil that wishes we didn’t see it for what it is.

Camp NaNoWriMo Reflection

Hello, dear readers! I hope you and your loved ones are staying safe and healthy. What a few months and what a year it’s been! I know this is a bit late as Camp NaNoWriMo finished at the end of April, but I wanted to share a few reflections.

I don’t presume to know about you, but it’s been hard to find time to write since all the shelter-in-place orders have been in place. Working at home with a toddler is hard and finding energy, either in the morning before everyone is up or at night after it’s quiet, is hard, too. So I found Camp NaNoWriMo more useful than ever this year.

Not because of the (almost non-existent) cabins or because of the emails during the month or any of that, but because it was a promise to myself that I would make my writing a priority for the month. That I would do something that I wanted to do, that others might find frivolous, that made me happy in the middle of the pandemic.

I gave myself permission to create and to enjoy the process. And, during the month, I wrote every day and got down 13,000 more words in the draft I’m writing. It was a great success and it has given me motivation to keep writing this month, even if sleep schedules, teething, and the chaotic end of the semester have meant that it has been a bit more slow going than last month.

Did you do Camp NaNoWriMo this year? Do you plan to in July? I hope you did and you do. Give yourself permission to continue creating. Creating is such a joyful act, even during these times.

And, since I know sometimes reading other’s reflections can be a bit boring, I thought I’d leave you with a bit of a short story I just started working on. We’ll see if it becomes a serial like Close Enough. I’m not sure yet, but it was fun to hear some new characters in my head. Enjoy and take care!

“We have no idea which moment in our lives will be the defining one on this earth and yet we let them slip through our hands like chaff. We convince ourselves that we will know that moment when it comes, but how can we when we spend so little time in the moment?”

“You speak nonsense, woman.”

“Says the man who cannot remember what he ate for breakfast.”


She laughed, unkind ones might have said cackled. ‘At least I know what I ate for breakfast.”

He tossed in a handful of coins into her upturned hat, more out of habit than conscious reason. “No one cares what I ate for breakfast.”

“Perhaps they do. Perhaps they don’t. But you should.”

“Utter rubbish. You should concern yourself with more important things.”

The train’s whistle sounded and he did not hear the woman’s reply as he hurried across the platform.

That was the not the last moment in his life where fate spoke and he failed to listen.



Writing in the Time of COVID-19 and Camp NaNoWriMo

Hello, dear readers. I hope you, your family, and your friends are staying safe and healthy. It is a strange, unsettling time for the entire world. It seems odd to even be writing about writing during this time. Or honestly doing anything at this time, but I find it good to have something to do other than reading the news obsessively and trying to get work done at home with a toddler under foot (who thinks that every video conference call should include her). And writing provides an escape, a way to process, and a tether to a more normal time.

And it happens to be Camp NaNoWriMo this month. What a fortuitous event to have in April. Not as stressful as NaNoWriMo in November as we can pick our own goals and yet, it provides some structure for our writing. An anchor for whirling minds and worried hearts. A goalpost under our control and a small foothold in certainty.

I’m doing Camp NaNoWriMo this month and I hope you are (or will consider it), too. I’m using it as a commitment to making more progress on the draft of my novel. It gives me the “excuse” to prioritize taking some of my time for writing rather than the dozen of other things that need to be done for work and for home. And it provides another avenue for community in this time when we are all distant physically.

Because of this, I won’t be posting short stories this month as my writing time is limited (as I’m sure yours is, too) and I’ll be focusing on my Camp NaNoWriMo project. But I’ll be back with more stories after April and hope you continue to find them good reads.

I wish us all health and safety and kindness as we continue to life through this pandemic together (even as we are physically apart). And I wish us good writing, no matter what form, and inspiration found even in the darkest times. Keep writing, keep creating, and keep living. Help those you can with your actions and with your words. Be safe.

Saturday Short: Close Enough, Part XVIII

We fell onto our faces in the middle of a country road with the scream of the Inversion cut off by the portal snapping shut behind us. I turned my head to see only blue sky above and no darkness on the horizon.

I pushed up to sitting, thankful that I had not landed on my sword and folded it. I wiped my hands against the shredded cloth of my apron and felt a lump in my pocket.  I pulled out a teaspoon and laughed. Its back was dented where it had taken a blow from one of the goblins that tried, and failed, to sever my leg at the hip. The universe truly did have a sense of humor.

Then I turned to Sami who groaned, then went as still as a cornered mouse when her eyes met mine.

“That was lesson three,” I said saving her the trouble.

“I…I don’t understand.”

“Lesson three,” I said, standing and reaching out my hand for hers. “Blood is not thicker than the Sisterhood.”

She blinked her eyes and looked away. “Am I still in the Sisterhood?”


Her shoulders sagged.

“You are still my apprentice and it is time for lesson four.”

She looked up at me, “Really?”

“Yes. Now come, we have work to do.”

And she took my hand and looked around, a new line of worry creasing her forehead. “Um, we’re not near the farm, are we?”

“Close enough. It is over there.” I pointed to a speck far across the valley, almost a half-day’s walk.

Sami sighed. “Of course.” Then she surprised me by not complaining further and beginning the walk home.

“Silas is probably already there, isn’t he?”

I made a noncommittal noise. I didn’t want to make her feel worse, but it was almost certain that Silas was already in the house, curled up in a sunspot, waiting to chide me for being late in getting him cream.

“Of course, that damn cat.” She said it without malice and I had to hide a smile. “Is there really another lesson?”

I nodded. “There is always at least one more.”

Sami sighed before beginning to laugh. She was Found, the Sisterhood was whole, and I joined my apprentice in laughing because somethings cannot be said. They must only be shared in the relief of laughter or the sharing of tears, but they bind us thicker than blood and always will.

Saturday Short: Close Enough, Part XVII

I ignored Sami, even though she hadn’t stopped screaming. Even though she continued to rain rocks down on me that would leave marks, if I survived the next minute or so. Even though she was the one I was trying to save.

And I fought him. Blades swirling to counter his air magic that tried to choke me, as it parried each blow. He knew as well as I, the power wielded by the Sisterhood was nothing on the Other Side. It was anathema to this place. There was no power for me here, but my own body, now pushed to breaking.

But I fought on, never letting up, until a blow landed that sent us both sprawling on our backs. The darkness was now across the plains, almost to the base of the hill.

“Lesson three.” I pushed myself up to my feet, planting them in a wide stance, blinking against the blood dripping into my eye. “Tell me, have you both forgotten lesson three?”

Sami’s scream stopped for a moment and her expression changed to one of confusion. “We didn’t—”

“Down here, lesson three does not exist. It’s been inverted.” He snapped his fingers and the mud pulled Sami to him. She was screaming, but now in fear, clawing at the mud as he began to harvest her spirit. It flowed like water. I had forgotten how beautiful a spirit could be.

“Another yearling lost. How many do you need to lose before you finally give in, Sister?” He pulled and I knew the end was near, even before the darkness rose like a wall behind him.

“She is not Lost, not yet.” I smiled, but it was a sad smile and didn’t mirror his lunacy. “Brother.”

Then I thrust my sword through his heart and he stumbled back in shock, into the darkness.

I wrapped my arms around Sami and yanked her from the mud, ripping the air into a as the darkness reached for us, the Inversion of the Other Side trying to claim its due.

Saturday Short: Close Enough, Part XVI

Sami gasped, as if she had forgotten Silas was a cat and that cats always play by their own rules. Somethings do not change whether one is above or below, in our world or the Other Side.

I wasn’t angry or surprised. Silas had more than one apprentice to worry about and more than one world to mind. I would see him again, if the Sisterhood was willing. If not, well, best not to dwell on such things.

“Stand up,” I said, pulling Sami up next to me.

She resisted, or rather, she didn’t help and it was like lifting a bunch of overly heavy potatoes only not in a useful carrying sack. There were many emotions in the face of almost certain death or at least dismemberment that I could stand. Fear made sense. Only fools weren’t afraid of a painful death. Panic made sense for those who had less experience than I with such things. But hopelessness, giving in, not fighting until the end, I couldn’t fathom and it kindled something raw, something deep within my soul that I had forgotten until that moment.

“You will stand with me or you will fall.” I released her arm and Sami stumbled, but rose next to me. She placed both hands on the hilt of her sword and though she trembled she stood.


The he was before us and laughing. Sami shrank back, but to her undying credit remained facing him. Perhaps some of my teaching had sunk into her after all.

“Here we are again,” he said turning his hand so the mud rose in front of him and formed a circle. “The wheel turns and you’re to lose yet another yearling to me.” He reached out and Sami screamed as he flicked his hand, using the air to pull her to him.

“Enough!” I slashed my sword in the air between them and both jerked back. “She is not yours to take. She is of the Sisterhood.”

His eyes flashed. “I see no mark of a Sister on her.” Then a vial appeared in his hand stoppered so as to not lose the blood inside it. “And her blood binds her to me. Blood is thicker than anything, isn’t it, Sister?”

I stepped in front of Sami as she moaned, “He’s inside my head…” She grabbed my arm and pulled me to face her. Her eyes were not her own and her lips parted in a falsehood of a smile. “He is good.” Then she tried to stumble toward him.

I didn’t have the power over mind, nor a blood binding with Sami. Blood was thick, but it was never just about blood.

I pulled Sami back, even as she screamed, ducking her attempt to slice me with my own sword. I knocked the sword out of her hand and managed, barely, to reclaim it before he could. I didn’t take my eyes off him and he merely smiled his smile that promised painful death and the end.

“She is not yours.” Then I launched myself at him wielding the swords he’d once had fashioned for me, long ago.

Saturday Short: Close Enough, Part XV

The plains parted like water, impossible anywhere but the Other Side. His coming was inevitable as time passing too quickly for the aged and too slow for the young.

“What is lesson two?” I asked looking at Sami.

“No.” She shoved the tip of her sword into the muddy ground and leaned on it, shaking her head. “No.”

I snapped my wrist and the last of the goblin blood staining my sword splattered on the ground.  “You are still my apprentice, even here. What is lesson two?”

Her eyes shone with fury, bordering on madness. Any sane person would be mad by now. Good thing the Sisterhood never accepted totally sane people into its ranks to begin with.

“Four minutes, give or take,” Silas called from his perch above.

Why did problems always come with such short deadlines? I looked across the expanse, now littered with piles of goblin bodies, fast decomposing into the sludge that seemed to power this place.

“What is lesson two?” I turned to Sami and wished, not for the last time, that the Sisterhood had less faith in me.

“What does it matter? He’s won. I can hear him in my head. He’s—”

I grabbed Sami and shook her so her teeth clacked together and I could feel her rage throbbing into my hands. “He has not won until you give up! I will not allow it! Now, what is lesson two?”

“For every action, an opposite reaction!” She yanked herself back and stumbled as I let go.


“It means nothing, nothing!”

I smiled and she leaned away from me as if, in this moment, I was more terrifying than him. “Everything means something.”

Silas roared a warning and I reacted more from instinct than from conscious thought as I threw myself and Sami sideways as a volley of fire flew past, close enough to singe the hairs on the nape of my neck. I looked back and he was impossibly closer. But then, thinking like that, that there were impossible things on the Other Side got one killed.

“You can’t win.” His voice rumbled toward us and Sami cried out, falling to her knees. “Stop this foolishness.”

And, for a moment, I wanted to stop. It was foolishness. Why was I sacrificing myself for one apprentice? One who didn’t even care about the Sisterhood. Why was I on the Other Side? I had no need for this fight. It was not mine.

Then Silas growled, low and deep, and it broke apart such delirium that I laughed, which caused him to stop in his tracks. Like a windup doll that stuttered in its walk.

“Who said anything about winning?” Winning, whatever that actually meant, was far from my mind. I merely wanted to survive and have another cup of tea without the world ending around me or my innards being exposed for all the Other Side to see.

And I thrust my sword deep into the ground beside my feet and was met by a bellow of pain as the Plains reacted. As above…

“What?” Sami cried out and latched on to my arm as the ground shook beneath our feet, fissures breaking apart the ground along the plains. A standard reflex to pain.

“Not what,” rumbled Silas. “Who.” He turned to me. “You will be owing the Plains.”

“It cannot be helped.” …so below.

I pulled my sword from the ground and watched as the Plains reacted to being stabbed in what was essentially its hand. It writhed and we leaned against the rocky outcropping to keep our feet. Out on the body of the Plains, there was nowhere to find shelter and he was driven to his knees.

The Plains bellowed again and the ground exploded. Mud splattered up and over our heads, a volcano of earth that swallowed him. The grinding sound pain quieted as the Plains found it was now more tired than hurt. He was closer, but now limping, covered in mud. It would have to be enough.

“Two minutes,” Silas growled and shook his head, spraying mud mixed with blood at my feet. “Remember, you owe me cream.” Then he was gone, slipping through a portal that only cats could traverse and leaving us behind.

Saturday Short: Close Enough, Part XIV

It’s not as terrifying as it sounds to break your mind. Most things that are broken can be repaired.


And now I needed two minds more than I needed sanity. One part of my mind to fight. A mind is no good without a live body.

The other to prove lesson one.

We are never alone in the universe.

Not even on the Other Side.

I called for help. Only the proud don’t call for help when they are in trouble. About to be hacked apart by a goblin horde counts as trouble, heaps of it. So I focused the clam part of my mind, the part not preoccupied with avoiding goblin blows and called,

“Ladies of the Other Side!” Slice, dodge, kick, grunt. “I call in my favor!”

A rumble like thunder rolled across the plains, followed by laughter. Sami screamed and clutched her head. I sliced through two goblins and I planted myself between her and the horde. Silas roared against the laughter, so it was of victory. He was on the battlefield.

“We can’t win. I should go to him, he’ll stop. He said he—“

I slapped her cheek and her eyes focused. “We do not give in.” I stabbed a goblin through the chest who dared to get within arms’ reach. “Especially when help is coming.”


And the song of the Ladies cut through the laughter and the goblin chattering, a piercing, clear melody that struck fear in every being of the Other Side. For it was the song of the Ladies hunting.

I smiled because, for once, I was not the hunted. I barred my teeth like Silas and added my roar to their hunting song.

And the Ladies came through the horde, slaying the goblins as if it were no more difficult than flicking dust from one’s hem. The goblins closest to us tried to flee, but we did not let them. Silas swatted them with his huge paws and my sword sung as if it knew the Ladies were here, too. Sami cowered behind me, holding her head and the part of me that wasn’t killing goblins felt sorry for the chaos swirling inside her head.

Then, all was silent, apart from our panting breath as the Ladies had reached us. They pulled back on their mounts who snorted, their breath as hot as the wind across the fiery plains.

“Well met, we are,” said the Lady nearest me.

“Well met indeed.” I inclined my head slightly, never taking my eyes off her.

She smiled. “It is a good day for battle, but you are short of time, Little Sister.”


She laughed and the other Ladies threw their heads back, too, and added their musical laughter which was so out of place, yet fitting, like the Ladies themselves. Then she reached down and touched the middle of my forehead. A bright, sharp white pain flared through my head followed by cool relief.

“You will need your mind intact.”

“Thank you.”

“Our debt is paid.” It was more statement than question, but still it lingered in the air. Part challenge, part oath binding as old as time. Part of me wanted to hold them to further deeds to settle the debt between us. But that was greed whispering in my ear, so much stronger on the Other Side. In my lifetime, I’ve never found being greedy to bring anything but pain.

“Yes, the slate between us is clear and I thank you for it.”

“Good.” She looked over her shoulder to the plains that had begun to roil like a pot about to boil over. “He is still coming.”

“Nothing is ever easy.”

She tilted her head slightly. “He is not truly Other Side, not yet.”

My face must have shown my shock as the Lady’s eyes glittered with something close to mischief. “That is why we cannot slay him…As above, it is below.”

“Always and forever,” I replied in the ancient greeting.

She shook her head. “Nothing is forever, Little Sister.” Then she and the rest of the Ladies left in silence without so much as a glance back.

“You should’ve held them further. Never know when we’ll need them again.” Silas smoothed the hair on the back of his paw with a lick as if simply discussing the weather.

I watched the last glint of light from their tack as the Ladies disappeared back into the clouds and shook my head. “They have given enough.” I turned my attention back to the plains where one lone figure continued his way towards us.

Saturday Short: Close Enough, Part XIII

“What is lesson one?”

“Are you kidding me?” Sami’s eyes were unfocused as she swung around to face me.

“No, what is lesson one?”

“You are crazy!” She turned back to look at the horde approaching, looking like they sprang from the ground, multiplying with each breath. Who knows? Perhaps they did.

“Lesson one!”

“I am not alone in the universe!” she shouted as the vanguard closed in, now a leap away.

“Then prove it!” I yelled as the wave of goblins crashed on us. Then I had no breath to spare for talking.

Swing, pull, duck, kick, breathe, repeat.

The reality of a melee never aligned with what the authors and the bards described. It was not romantic or glorious.

It was terrifying, bloody, and abrupt.

No time to think. No time to fear. No time to worry.

I yelled, adding my voice to the cacophony. Silas roared. Sami screamed and didn’t stop screaming. She wouldn’t be aware of it until her voice was lost tomorrow. If we all lived past the next 10 minutes.

Even as goblins piled at my feet, there was no break in the wave. For each that dropped, another took its place. My lungs burned as I slipped on a slick of blood and stabbed a goblin who tried to use my unbalance in his favor. He hacked at my hip as if to cut me literally off at the legs. His blade cut through my apron but clanged on something, surprising us both. I regained my footing and slashed him in two.

“We seem to be at an impasse,” Silas growled as he struck down a goblin with a massive paw then snapped another in two with his jaws.

“Yes.” I couldn’t spare as much breath. “Suggestions?”

“Do something.”

“Of course.” Jab, duck, repeat. “Never occurred to me.”

“Your humor is ill timed.”

Humor was the only thing that kept one sane in battle. That or the ability to disassociate.

“Eight minutes.”

As if I needed a reminder, as if a clock was not ticking in my head every time I took a breath or swung my sword. Fools who thought themselves wise said sanity was necessary for life. That’s why they are fools.

Sanity is not what keeps you alive. The willingness to fight to survive is what keeps you alive.

So I took a breath and broke my mind in two.