Barb Caffrey's Blog

Writing the Elfyverse . . . and beyond

#Updated# There’s a New Peter Welmsley Story…in a New #MilSF Anthology from Henchman Press

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Folks, I should’ve been able to find some time to blog about this last week, when the anthology Tales of the E4 Mafia came out, but I was hip-deep in an edit and the bit I was able to carve out for writing I used on the “super-secret” project.

#Update: Here’s a banner for you that my friend Kayelle Allen, herself a proud U.S. Navy veteran, made for the new anthology. Use it widely, not to mention wisely…

Anyway, I am very proud to let you know that I have a new story, featuring Peter Welmsley as a secondary character, in the above anthology. The story’s called “Into the Night,” and was co-written by my good friend Gail Sanders. Gail is a Specialist in the Army Reserves, and as every story in the Tales of the E4 Mafia anthology must feature someone of that rank, Gail had the verisimilitude I needed, along with the experience, to fully flesh out this story.

In other words, her help was invaluable.

Anyway, for those of you who’ve wanted another story with Peter Welmsley, here is just a bit of that story in the hopes it’ll whet your interest:

“Please state your name, rank, and ship for the court record,” requested the JAG officer.

“Peter Thomas Zachariah Welmsley, Master Sargeant, of the HMS Wendigo, seconded to the HMS Hyperion for the duration of this crisis,” he said. “And by that, I don’t mean this inquiry.”

The room erupted in laughter yet again. The judge, looking most put upon, banged her large gavel again. “Order must be maintained,” she said, “even though I agree with Master Sergeant Welmsley’s sentiments.”

“And what is your role on the HMS Hyperion? How long have you been there?” Ryder asked.

“I’ve been with the Hyperion now for the last nine months, as Wendigo needed significant repairs after the last fight with the Bryan pirates. I’ve been told it will be at least six more months before the Wendigo will be fully repaired, and I can go back to my regular ship.” His face, usually merry, scowled.

So, do you want to know more? Such as, what is Peter doing there? Who is he helping? (I’ll give you a small hint; he is helping a Lance Corporal, AKA someone of the E4 rank.)

I can tell you that this is a younger version of Peter Welmsley, perhaps as much as fifteen years younger than the man we meet in the short novella “To Survive the Maelstrom.” I enjoyed seeing Peter in slightly less emotionally fraught days, and hope there will be many more stories ahead as time goes on.

Anyway, this is the first story I’ve written with someone else in my late husband Michael B. Caffrey’s Atlantean Union Universe, and I’m quite proud of it. I think Michael would like it. I also think he’d enjoy the humor of it, and of the anthology overall (as most of these stories are funny).

Mind you, it does feel weird to write in Michael’s universe with him being dead. But that hasn’t stopped me before, and I don’t think it’s going to stop me now either. (Picture me emphatically nodding, here.)

So, do go check out the story, will you? I hope you will enjoy it in the spirit intended, and the rest of the E4 Mafia anthology as well.

#Update: Kayelle also sent along some sample Tweets, and my favorite was this one:

Think you know the military? Think again. 11 E-4 Mafia stories mix sci-fi, humor, and mischief for a reading adventure that’ll keep you on your toes 🤖📚 #SciFi #MilSF #Military #PlotTwist

So, now you’ve got some help if you can’t think up a good Tweet. (And I’ll admit it; I couldn’t think up something this good, much less this pithy. But Kayelle could and I appreciate it.)

Just in Time For Halloween, New Poems and Stories at the TTB e-zine!

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OK, sometimes I just have to rhyme…

Folks, do you want some new and absolutely free reading material? Especially from me? (As you’re here at my blog, I’m going to assume the answer is an enthusiastic “yes.”)

Well, look no further. I have a story, “To Exist within Memory,” and a poem, “Break the Dark Lens,” up at the Halloween 2017 edition of the Twilight Times e-zine. (I abbreviated it above as TTB e-zine because it’s part of Twilight Times Books.) In addition, there’s also a chapter reveal for my most recent novel, the LGBT-friendly CHANGING FACES, and there’s an author interview by Mayra Calvani as well — so if you have ever wanted to know more about me or my writing, here you go.

portrait in garden

Mind, if you like what you have read with regards to CHANGING FACES, you can go to Amazon or Barnes and Noble and pick up an e-book copy for just ninety-nine cents…and I do hope you’ll consider doing just that.

So go check out the TTB e-zine. Read some free stuff. Then go pick up your copy of CHANGING FACES today, and get to getting…who said every treat on Halloween has to be full of calories, hey?

Written by Barb Caffrey

October 31, 2017 at 8:33 pm

Now Available in E-Book: A LITTLE ELFY IN BIG TROUBLE

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Folks, I’m very happy to be able to finally report that my second novel — and the second novel in the Elfy duology — A LITTLE ELFY IN BIG TROUBLE has been released. It’s available right now at Amazon and OmniLit…the latter will be most useful if you need an e-pub version of the file.

Edited to add: Barnes and Noble link is now live as well. Now returning you to your regularly scheduled post…

ALittleElfyinBigTrouble_medIf you have never seen anything at all about the Elfyverse — or read book one in the Elfy duology, AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE — this little blurb may help you with what’s going on:

Young Bruno the Elfy and Sarah, his mostly-human teenage girlfriend, are in deep trouble. Bruno’s Elfy mentor Roberto the Wise is about to be sacrificed by a Dark Elf, and Sarah’s parents have decided to help the Elf rather than the Elfy. Things look bleak and are getting worse by the minute, but Bruno and Sarah have a number of allies — human, Elfy, and ghosts — that the Dark Elf can’t possibly expect. Can young love, desperation, and great unexpected power win out despite it all?

And here’s a short excerpt — note, it first appeared here, as part of the Marketing for Romance Writers Book Hooks blog hop:

Bruno took Sarah’s hand and led her back outside. He looked with his mage senses, and felt nothing; no Elfy magic, no Human magic, and as far as he could tell, no Elf magic, Dark or Bright.

He put up a light shield that should help conceal their voices, and decided it was safe enough to talk for a bit.

“Tomorrow is Baaltinne, Sarah.” Bruno rubbed his fingers through his hair and tried not to look too hard at Sarah. Goddess, she was beautiful. But he had to stay on topic. “That’s your May Day. Tomorrow.” He shook his head and tried not to frown. “How can we get everything together in time to stop Dennis the Dark Elf?”

“I have faith in you,” she said. Her eyes darkened. Bruno felt as if he were falling, before she gently brushed her lips against his.

————————— End Excerpt ————————————-

If this has intrigued you (and of course I hope it has), but you aren’t sure you will like my book yet, I also have three sample chapters available at Twilight Times Books’ website — here’s the link for that: http://www.twilighttimesbooks.com/ElfyinBigTrouble_ch1.html

A LITTLE ELFY IN BIG TROUBLE continues to make me laugh. I’ve enjoyed writing about Bruno, Sarah, Reverend Samuel and his family, Lady Keisha, even Dennis the Dark Elf…and I hope to write more about them, ’cause I have a hunch their stories are not over.

At any rate, most of you know the labor of love that kept me working on Elfy for years. I’m ecstatic that both halves of my novel have now been published, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading them as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.

Anyway, both novels are available now as e-books. So what are you waiting for? Go grab a copy — or copies — today! (And be sure to tell your friends. ‘Cause, really…how can you go wrong?)

Written by Barb Caffrey

November 21, 2015 at 7:22 pm

Welcome to the Elfyverse…

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Thank you for stopping by my blog, which is called either “Barb Caffrey’s Blog,” or “the Elfyverse.”

Why two names? Well, I figured it would be easier for people to find me if they used my name. But I’ve been writing about Elfys, Elfs, Dwarves, and more for over ten years — thus “the Elfyverse.”

As for what I do here, it’s simple: I talk about anything I like.

I’ve been blogging now for over five years. (Here’s a link to my first blog post, if you don’t believe me.) Over that time, I’ve talked writing, publishing, music, sports, current events, politics . . . anything that I feel like talking about.

So while you’re here, expect the unexpected . . . because you never quite know what I’m about to say.

Please feel free to stop by any time you like. And tell your friends about all my work, including AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE (Barnes and Noble link is here) and the first two stories of my late husband Michael’s, “A Dark and Stormy Night” and “On Westmount Station,” all available at Amazon.

And remember . . . support a real writer.

Written by Barb Caffrey

June 9, 2014 at 5:21 am

My novel, “An Elfy on the Loose,” Is Now Available

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It’s been a long time in coming, but my first novel, AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE (now with a subtitle of “Book One of the ELFY duology”) is now available at Amazon.com and will be available soon at all major e-book retailers.

**Edited to add: AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE has also “gone live” at BN.com (Barnes and Noble’s website), as Paul Howard told me in the comments. If you have a Nook and want to read AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE, now’s your chance!

Now back to our regularly scheduled post.**

I’m very pleased that AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE is now out, even though I hadn’t expected it to “go live” on Amazon tonight, of all nights — but as it has, I figured I’d best skedaddle and get a blog post up, pronto.

For those of you who want a sample, please go here and read the first five chapters of AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE . . . then, I hope you’ll go to Amazon and get the e-book, as it’s on sale for a limited time at the low price of $3.99.

Because I’m a new author, and because I’m decidedly not well known, it is anyone’s guess as to whether or not AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE will do well enough to warrant an actual “dead tree” edition (that is, a paper edition).

For all I know, this e-book copy is all that we’re likely to get. So I hope you’ll enjoy it in the spirit intended.

In other words, if you want to read my novel because you’ve been intrigued about Bruno the Elfy and Sarah his human companion and want to know all about Sarah’s house (which is an Elfy trap of major proportions), or if you want to figure out why a Dark Elf would go to Northern California, or if you even want to know why Bruno’s mentor Roberto is worth saving despite being more than a bit of an butthead sometimes, now’s your chance.

I also hope that if you read and enjoy AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE, you won’t be averse to letting people know my book exists. Because I need all the help I can get . . . and I’m not shy about saying so.

Written by Barb Caffrey

April 12, 2014 at 12:34 am

Random Thoughts on Recent Sporting Events

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Folks, I am dealing with a sinus infection that is actually a secondary infection to something else. I suspect it was the flu (though I did get the flu shot, they “guessed wrong” and the strain we got wasn’t the one they’d tried to inoculate us against), but I will never be sure as I tested negative for it by the time I got into the doctor’s office. (For what it’s worth, I also tested negative for Covid.)

Anyway, while my attention span continues to be splintered, I did have a few thoughts yesterday, mostly while watching sports. During troubled times, like the times we’re going through right now in the United States, there’s a type of purity in sport that calls to me, possibly because it’s meritocratic to a large degree. (There are some games thrown off by bad officiating, mind you. That’s why I said “to a large degree” in the first place. But I digress.)

So, the first thing I watched over this weekend was a surprising Milwaukee Bucks team, with a healthier Giannis Antetokounmpo, beat the Los Angeles Lakers in Los Angeles on Friday night. The Bucks are under .500 (meaning they’ve lost more than they’ve won), mostly because Giannis was out for ten games or so. When Giannis plays, the Bucks are world-beaters. When he doesn’t, they struggle. A lot.

That said, this year’s Bucks team has shown improvement from everyone except Giannis (as Giannis is already All-World, what more can you do there but sustain your excellence? Which Giannis is doing, of course), and guard Ryan Rollins has been particularly good offensively and with assists. No one saw his huge improvement coming, though he played well in more limited playing time last year. Plus forward Kyle Kuzma has played substantially improved defense and seems much more comfortable and confident than he was last year after he was traded from the Washington Wizards for forward Khris Middleton. (There was more to the trade than these two guys, but they were the “main two” in the trade. I say this for sports’ fans completists, who will know full well that I’m not discussing that whole trade. But I digress again, and time is short.) Making this improvement even more surprising is that Kuzma has mostly played in the second unit, being the first or second guy off the bench (along with long-time Bucks excellent sixth man, Bobby Portis). So instead of starting, he’s coming in to spell others, and while he has played well also while filling in for Giannis, he really seems to have taken to the sixth (or seventh) man role. Further, Kuzma has been completely unselfish in his play, which I also think very few people would’ve expected.

A slight digression: Kuzma wasn’t selfish last year, I don’t think. But he had growing pains from being traded by a bad Washington Wizards team after having been by far the best player on that team. He only intermittently fit in with last year’s crop of Bucks players and seemed more than a bit uncomfortable. But all of that is gone now, and he’s been a standout of the Bucks season thus far.

Then, I watched the Green Bay Packers lose to the Chicago Bears after the Packers had led nearly all game. But as they’ve been doing lately, the Packers fell apart in the fourth quarter, and lost their fifth consecutive game. (This means they “backed in” to the playoffs, as other teams had to lose for them to advance due to their own problems.) This was partly because four or five of the best players on the team (besides Jordan Love, the quarterback, Malik Willis, the backup QB, and the wide receiving crew) were injured, including excellent defender Micah Parsons, who had season-ending surgery several weeks ago.

There’s talk now that Matt LaFleur, the head coach of the Packers, will be fired. I don’t think he should be. I think the team was trying to overcome a lot of unexpected injuries. I don’t think coaches should be fired when big-name players like Micah Parsons are too injured to play (and made a huge difference before his injury, granted). I also don’t think coaches should be fired when their excellent tight end, Tucker Kraft, was on the football equivalent of the disabled list in baseball (OK, they call it the “Injured List” now, but you know what I mean.) Too many front-line players were hurt, and if the Packers had trailed from the start, rallying only to fall short in the last few minutes, I think fans would be happier than what happened.

See, when it goes the other way — when you are leading the whole game, only to be caught at the end (there also was some abysmal play by the kicker, Brandon McManus; McManus is usually reliable and dependable, but he missed two field goals and worse than that, also missed an extra point and didn’t come close to making any of those three things) — fans get expectations. We can’t help it. We see how well the Packers are playing, or whatever team it is, and we start jumping to endings. “Wow, the Packers as the seventh seed are about to knock off the two-seeded Bears? Impressive!”

Then it doesn’t happen.

(Another digression: It reminds me of how I have to get my books back out there. I haven’t been up to rewriting blurbs. Some days lately, I have only been barely able to do the equivalent of trading water, though I did finish up a big edit a week and a half ago, and am working on another now.)

Finally, I got a chance to watch the men’s United States figure skating championships (oh, the miracles of modern television and streaming!), and was impressed with the top five skaters. Ilia Malinin won, of course, as was expected. (He does jumps no one else in the world can do, has excellent footwork and spins also, and basically is the best figure skater in the world.) Andrew Torgashev came in second (repeating his finish from last year’s nationals), Maxim Naumov third, Jacob Sanchez fourth, and Tomoki Hiwatashi came in fifth. All four of these men skated very well, though not perfectly (Sanchez probably came closest to perfection in his program, followed by Torgashev). Naumov was particularly impressive as he lost his parents (who were also his figure skating coaches) last year in the plane crash with the U.S. Army helicopter (it was unfortunately the helicopter operator’s fault, which doesn’t help anyone concerned). He was the sentimental favorite for an Olympic spot partly due to that, and partly due to the fact that he’s been on the cusp of figure skating excellence for at least four or five years.

Still, there were other great stories. Torgashev had two very fine performances in a row in his short and long programs and brought the crowd to its feet. Jacob Sanchez, only eighteen years of age, skated the program of his life and was visibly overjoyed at his performance, also earning a standing ovation. Takahashi finished only two points behind Sanchez in a strong fifth place, and both he and Sanchez were about two points behind Naumov’s third-place finish. (Seriously, if skating were more like a horse race, these three would’ve led to a photo finish or the equivalent. These guys did it different ways, but all skated the best they possibly could under the circumstances in my opinion.)

The lone disappointment, for me at least, was the performance of popular figure skater Jason Brown. Brown has the best overall skating skills in the world due to his phenomenal spins, excellent footwork, good, deep edges to his skating, and usually has competent-to-better jumps that look fantastic because of his overall approach to the sport.

But Saturday night wasn’t his night. He “popped” one jump (something happens when skaters jump and the body won’t let them rotate; that’s the best way I can explain this), turning a triple into a single. He nearly fell three times and did fall a fourth. (Granted, he did it balletically and if anyone can fall beautifully, it’s Jason Brown.) Most of his triple jumps were underrotated to my eye (and, unfortunately for him, also to the figure skating judges in the arena from what I could tell), though he did do a few good combo jumps with a triple and a double (and may have done one triple-triple). He had a good attitude about his skate, and didn’t show anything other than calmness and maturity, something I know I found very hard to do when I was competing in music contests (yes, even when I was in my early thirties, as Jason Brown now is). I can only applaud Brown for taking it in stride, as he’s had a great career in the sport and probably wanted to go out on a high note (as it’s generally assumed that this will be his last competitive year in figure skating), as did everyone who’s watched him over the years.

Now it’s up to the United States Olympic Committee (USOC) to pick the teams to represent the United States. Because Brown has been so reliable, there is thought he’d be placed on the team despite his performance yesterday evening as the third skater behind Malinin (a no-brainer) and Torgashev (second year in a row as silver medalist, also a no-brainer). But if it were up to me, Naumov makes the team instead of Brown, and both Sanchez and Hiwatashi go as first and second alternates, taken to Milan to observe and be ready in case anyone gets injured. Only after those five men are placed should Jason Brown be given any consideration, even with his long years in the sport and his overall popularity, mostly because figure skating is a sport where stars are often fleeting. For all I know, this could be Sanchez’s only chance despite his young age. Hiwatashi skated so well (as I said, both he and Sanchez were right up there with Naumov and all three had similar scores, with Naumov edging them both out — sorry about the pun there), he also deserves to go as an alternate.

Mind you, I don’t like having to type out those words because Jason Brown is a friendly, honest, kind-hearted person and has been a particularly distinctive and elegant skater for probably the last fifteen years if not a bit more. He broke onto the scene relatively early, and he’s stayed relevant now into his thirty-first year of life, which is almost unheard of in men’s skating these days due to the rigors of all those triple jumps (and, if you’re Malinin or the others I discussed in the top five, at least one quad jump, though Malinin has been known to have up to seven or so quads in his program). Those jumps are hard on the back, harder still on the knees, and probably are harder every year you skate due to past injuries and such.

So, as an “older performer” myself (though I am, ahem, a bit older than Brown’s thirty-one), I don’t like having to say stuff like this. I love Brown’s skating and wish he’d had the performance of his life, so he could go out on a high note as he deserved.

But sometimes, as I’ve said before, we don’t get what we want. We have to be resilient, which Brown has been his entire career, and find ways to be content with our performances even if they don’t turn out the way we want. (At least we got up there and tried. That’s more than most people can do right there.)

What I think should be done with Jason Brown is something akin to what the Dodgers did with Clayton Kershaw in the All-Star game. Kershaw wasn’t pitching his best anymore, but was a great pitcher, and will be elected to the baseball Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility. He deserved to go to the game out of longevity. He came in and pitched at most one inning (it might’ve been less), and the crowd was able to give Kershaw one final ovation.

I don’t know how you do that in figure skating. (I’m a long-term fan, but this situation hasn’t come up before, as best I can tell.) Brown deserves something similar, but how does it happen without slighting Naumov, Sanchez, and Hiwatashi, who all easily out-skated Brown last night? (As did a few others, as Brown finished up in eighth place.)

They only have so many spots. I know that. And the USOC can do one of four things:

  1. Reward Jason Brown for his longevity and give him the chance to win a team medal.
  2. Give Sanchez the third spot as he’s eighteen, an up-and-comer, and that will give him needed experience for his next Olympic try (providing he stays healthy) in 2030.
  3. Give Hiwatashi the third spot due to his overall improvement, his long record of international competitions and overall competitiveness. Or…
  4. Just name the top three finishers, Malinin, Torgashev, and Naumov, with Sanchez and Hiwatashi being alternates, as I said in the first place. (These last two probably will get sent to the Four Continents championship, which is often what the runners-up to the Olympic team get assigned to…but there’s nothing wrong with that.)

Those are my thoughts. This blog went on a little longer than I’d expected, but I hope that readers enjoyed it anyway…may you have a great week, full of happiness and kindness and resilience, and don’t let the bastards grind you down. (Whoever the bastards may be.)

Twenty-Four Years Ago Today…

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It’s Christmas Eve in the United States. And about twenty-four years ago, it was around this time that my late husband Michael and I had the most amazing thirty-six-hour conversation in my entire life. Long distance, much via AOL Instant Messenger (still a thing in 2001), complete with raw honesty, what I’d call true bravery on both of our parts as we weren’t afraid to be vulnerable (and neither of us was drunk, or had taken any mind-altering substances as far as I know).

See, at the time, I was waiting for my second ex-husband (yes, I’ve been married three times, if I haven’t said that before or in a while) to come back to his home state and sign the divorce papers.

Mind you, I don’t want to discuss my ex here because there are reasons he’s my ex. What I want to discuss instead is the most amazing person I have ever known, my late husband Michael.

I had contemplated annulling my second marriage, but it cost too much time and too much money. That’s why I was going for a straight divorce instead, in the hopes that I’d be able to get out of the marriage faster. But it still took well over a year before my ex decided to sign the papers, mostly because by that time his then-girlfriend and soon-to-be-wife was heavily pregnant.

I truly hope he’s been a better husband to her than he ever was to me. But I digress.

Michael understood two things from the moment he met me (via a mutual friend). One, he knew right off that he was going to marry me. Two, he also knew that if he tried too hard, I’d run like Hell the other way. I’d had bad luck with men, to say the least, and I was divorcing for the second time at the age of thirty-five. I felt like a complete failure, really…I wasn’t one, but I still felt that way.

So, how did we end up having this thirty-six-hour conversation considering he knew I was gun-shy (for good reasons)? Mostly, the first couple of hours were stuff we usually talked about. Books, movies, current events, ethics, morality, you name it. We could talk for hours. He was possibly the one man I’ve ever known who types as fast as I do (as I type around 100 words per minute when I’m all warmed up). He also read as fast as I do, and so we could have these long conversations, intercut with a point from three minutes ago, intercut with another point from a half-hour ago, etc. And it didn’t bore him!

Nope. Instead, I think it enthralled him.

He was lonely, I was lonely, and there’s no doubt that was part of why we started talking that night. But what took us from a developing close friendship to a romance was how vulnerable and open we were that evening. Neither of us wanted to let the other one go. When I went to the bathroom, I’d tell him, and wait for him when he had to go. Neither of us had webcams, which might’ve been just as well (I’m sure he probably had one somewhere, but he wasn’t about to use it), as I was terrified.

Why? I mean, he already knew what I looked like. He knew I was a big, beautiful woman, what they now call a “curvy” woman. He was attracted to me. Partly for my body, I guess, but mostly for the mind and heart and spirit inside that body.

I liked his looks, too, but he could’ve looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and I’d have still wanted to be with him. (He didn’t. He was quite handsome, actually, but didn’t think so at all.) He had the most beautiful spirit, was kind-hearted, wanted to help people, would do whatever he could to make someone’s life a little better, and yet he also was witty, made me laugh on a continual basis, and him being willing to talk openly about what he wanted in a woman, and what he hadn’t found yet (as he was also divorced; he and his ex stayed friends, and I am still in contact with her, but they weren’t right for each other romantically).

Then, somewhere in those thirty-six hours, he said he thought he’d found it in me. And could we please consider ourselves courting now?

He used that old-fashioned term because it tickled him (he loved British and BBC period dramas), and partly because that’s exactly what he was doing.

Me on the verge of a second divorce did not scare him. It did not make him run away. And he was savvy enough, intelligent enough, and empathetic enough to know how to support me as I got to know him better.

There’s a reason I called him the most wonderful person ever. There actually are many.

So, twenty-four years ago today, my life changed for the better. I took a chance; he took a chance. It was the right thing to do. We were right for one another. Our marriage was a huge success by every metric he and I used: did we care about each other? Could we support one another? Did we have things we loved to do on our own as well as each other? Would we ever run out of stuff to talk about with each other? (Um, no. We never did.) Did we match in every possible way, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually?

Yes, we did.

We had no money, of course. Neither of us was in good health, and he was in worse health than he knew considering his four sudden heart attacks in one day, culminating in death, in September of 2004. But we wrote together, and it was glorious. (I have to get the two Elfy books out again. I’m sorry it’s taking extra time. Too much going on here, I guess. And my novel Changing Faces was partly the reason he felt he could talk to me in the first place, as he figured anyone who could write that was worthy of the best things in life. He didn’t think he was that, but he wasn’t going to pass on me, either. And he thought my exes were the most foolish, ignorant men on the face of this Earth, too. If I didn’t put that in, he’d not be pleased if he could come back and read this now.) The Elfy duology would not exist without Michael. My other stories, including some set in his own far-future SF Atlantean Union universe, would not exist without Michael. Changing Faces in any form would not exist without Michael either.

Bluntly, I am the person I am today in large part because Michael loved me and he wanted what was best for me. He loved that I played music, he could read music (in all clefs, too, which is hard; yes, I can do it, but I had years of practice and he picked it up seemingly overnight), he loved it that I composed music, he insisted on doing as many household chores as he could to spare me the back and knee pain, he cooked more often than I did even though we were both good cooks, and he made my life so much easier despite all of the obstacles that were in our way.

Once upon a time, I knew that the Deity must love me, or I never would’ve found Michael at all.

If I ever find someone kind enough, good enough, willing to try enough, to be in my life again, it’s because of Michael. His love made it possible for me to see that men can be good, kind, decent, honorable, steady as a rock, encouraging, creative in his own right, quick-witted, and worthy of love in all particulars, in all spheres (mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical), and his love ultimately helped me go on as best I could, even though it did take me at least eleven years to process and even now, still, it often feels like I’m walking on broken glass, trying to pretend my feet aren’t bleeding from the pain of his loss.

So, I don’t know the answers. As I have often said here, I don’t even know the questions sometimes. But I do know that love matters. Creativity matters. Honesty and ethics and fair dealing all matter, too. Honoring the love I had with my husband, that I will have until the day I die and assuredly after as well when we are finally reunited in joy on the other side (hopefully with all the dogs and cats we loved in this life at our sides along with my father and grandmother and all the people Michael had wished I could’ve known better, including his father, who died before I ever knew Michael’s name, much less how wonderful he was).

That’s what matters to me. That’s what’s always going to matter.

May your Christmas and New Years be filled with love, happiness, peace, joy, and whatever else you need to help you have a glorious 2026 despite everything else in your life that gets in the way.

Not having money, not having health, not having a constant place to live, have all gotten in the way of my life for sure. But so long as I have one breath left in my body, I have hope. So long as I remember that a truly good, kind, loving, funny, intelligent, creative person with so many multitudinous talents as Michael loved me, I know I am worthy of that love. And that helps me, at least in part, to get in touch with the Deity in some way, even though I still do not understand why I am here and he is not.

At any rate, it was twenty-four years ago today that my life changed for the better. I think that’s worthy of celebration, even though it’s really hard to celebrate considering Michael’s been dead for twenty-one years, three months, and three days.

Damian Lillard Returns to Milwaukee, Gets Ovation

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Folks, when the Milwaukee Bucks waived All-Star guard Damian Lillard, I was furious and said so at the time. Lillard is a class act, someone who brought tireless energy and a will to win every single night. He worked hard to return from a blood clot in his leg — something that often sidelines players in all sports for far longer (even taking them out of entire seasons) — coming back in time for the playoffs. Then, because life can be cruel sometimes, he tore his Achilles tendon during the playoffs.

Because Lillard wasn’t likely to play at all this season, the Bucks waived him and “stretched” his contract over a period of years. This was a scenario no one had expected. Lillard wasn’t told before it happened, either, which I thought particularly egregious…anyway, Lillard landed on his feet, signing with the Portland Trail Blazers (where he started his career and played eleven years before being traded to the Bucks), and he just returned to Milwaukee with Portland, as the Trailblazers played the Bucks last night (and beat the Bucks, too).

Lillard can’t play right now, though he is rehabbing and he can take parts in some of the warmups and such. In that, he’s like Bucks star forward Giannis Antetokounmpo, who is also injured right now. The Bucks players and coaches were happy to see Lillard, too, as they knew how good of a person he was, and how cruel the National Basketball Association (NBA) can be as a business sometimes.

But their warm welcome was dwarfed by the thunderous ovation Lillard received from the Bucks fans.

You know how I said before that I was incredibly disappointed in the Bucks front office for waiving and stretching Lillard’s contract? I still am. But I am incredibly heartened by the Bucks fans, who really liked Lillard (for good reasons), and who did not like this “NBA business move” as it seemed to dump on a quality guy who’d done everything he possibly could to win with the Bucks, including coming back quickly from that blood clot in his leg, changing his own game to play more defense, get more assists, and shoot less often (though with the excellent accuracy and ability he’d always shown as a Trailblazer in Portland). The Bucks fans recognized this. And they wanted Lillard to know that the two years he spent in Milwaukee were memorable.

Thus, the ovation.

I am pleased, mind you, that the Bucks came up with the video tribute to Lillard (they don’t always remember to do this, as they completely forgot when former coach Mike “Bud” Budenholzer returned with his then-team the Phoenix Suns, and Bud won a championship with the Bucks in 2021). That shows class, and also shows what I expect out of the Bucks: respect for a true winner, someone who gave it his all, and who just wanted the best out of life.

Lillard may be better off rehabbing in Portland, mind you. His kids are there, and they are a joy and a delight to him (which is as it should be). He can take them to school more often, pick them up, take ’em to doctor appointments, see them in recitals or anything else they may be doing…all of that is an unexpected blessing, as far as I’m concerned, from the Bucks classless and shoddy act in the summer.

“But what about Myles Turner?” you might be asking. “They waived Lillard’s contract to get him. Don’t you like at least that part of it?”

I have nothing bad to say about Myles Turner. He’s done fine as a Buck so far.

But he is not Damian Lillard. And to get Turner, who is of course blameless as it wasn’t up to him as to what the Bucks front office staff did, the Bucks had to (excuse me) crap all over Lillard despite Lillard having put his all into his two years as a Buck.

I hope that Damian Lillard knows, now if not sooner, that most Bucks fans did not like what the Bucks front office did. That ovation should tell him, if nothing else, that we Bucks fans saw Lillard and appreciated his classiness and hard work.

As it’s nearly Thanksgiving, I can honestly give thanks that the Bucks fans gave Lillard this huge ovation. Because he deserved it. He is worthy of it. And I’ll never forget this heartwarming act, because it’s good to know that many other fans feel as I did, and still do.

Why My Novels Aren’t Currently Available…and What I Plan to Do About It (Plus an Update about the Housing Search)

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Folks, I had a few folks asking me lately, “Barb, what happened to your novels? Where are they? Why can’t I find them?”

The answer is, my former publisher, Twilight Times Books (TTB), has released the novels back to me. That means it is now up to me to republish them, independently. I have negotiated for the original covers (as I liked them) and it looks like I will have access to those. I’ll write some sort of forward and new afterword, I’m sure, too…but with everything else still in major flux, I just haven’t had the concentration I need to get everything in train.

My former publisher, Lida Quillen of TTB, has been great. I have the formatted files she used (a major help), along with other files for the covers, and now it’s just a matter of me getting a few hours of good-to-excellent concentration (so I can concentrate on writing a forward and an afterword and add that to the files, hoping I don’t manage to screw up the formatting in so doing) to get them back out there and available again.

So, for the moment, my three novels AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE (aka Elfy Book 1), A LITTLE ELFY IN BIG TROUBLE (aka Elfy Book 2), and CHANGING FACES (a gender-bending spiritual romance that’s been called “Freaky Friday on Acid” that has nothing whatsoever to do with the Elfy books) are unavailable.

I hope to have them back up and available by December 15, 2025. I’m saying this now, publicly, openly, just so you know I am working on it, and that I will find a way to get it done. (Without Lida’s helpfulness in getting me the files and putting me in touch with the cover artists, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I appreciate her willingness to help, as she didn’t have to do anything of the sort.)

While I have many short stories out there and still have the two first stories about Joey Maverick and the very first one about Peter Welmsley available (all three listed as co-written by Michael, my late husband, as these were originally his characters and much of what I had was stuff I’d expanded out a little bit), it is odd not to have my three novels available to purchase.

That will be rectified soon, no matter what, because it’s important that these novels be put back out there for my own peace of mind. I worked hard on these books, I believe they have worth and value, and it is imperative I get them back out there.

By the way, for those of you asking for a moving update…I’m in a holding pattern. I am on quite a few waiting lists for apartments, but there seems to be very little movement in the housing market right now, possibly because of the uncertainty regarding the economy. And the one day I did get a solid tip about an apartment, I wasn’t able to follow through with it due to health reasons. (It was only going to be shown for one day for two hours. I could not get there at that time. I felt bad I couldn’t get there.)

My stuff is mostly in storage and has been for a bit under three months. It’s safe, as the place I picked is reliable, and there are cameras there. The lock they gave me is hard for me to operate (I have tendinitis in both hands and wrists), so when I go there I have to make sure I have someone else with me to open and close the gate (when I went there once by myself, I ended up having to call my best friend’s husband to ask for help as he was one of the folks who helped me get stuff into storage in the first place). It’s like adding an extra obstacle to a course already full of them.

But I persevere, and do the best I can, and hope for better days ahead. Not just for me, either…for everyone I know, too, as life seems quite difficult for just about everyone right now.

Written by Barb Caffrey

November 23, 2025 at 3:57 am

Tom Brady Cloned His Favorite Dog, and I Have Thoughts…

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Folks, I’ve been wrestling with this issue for several days (in addition to trying to get rid of the most recent sinus infection, doing my best to make some progress in other areas, looking for apartments, etc.), and finally figured out now is the right time to start discussing it.

Tom Brady found a company that would clone his favorite dog, named Lua, partly because he’s got a lot of money, and partly because he adored his late dog. From what I’ve read, the company that did the cloning (Colossal Biosciences) did so starting from a blood sample from Lua taken before she passed. His new dog, Junie, is a clone of Lua. (Note that Brady is an investor in this company, too.)

But here’s the thing about clones: If you can’t duplicate the exact same nurturing environment, you probably won’t get the same personality as your former animal. They have the same DNA, yes, but just as identical twin human children can have radically different personalities, so can dogs, cats, parakeets, or in one case, a rare white bull.

(I don’t know for sure that parakeets have been cloned yet, but it appears that both dogs and cats have been. The white bull that was cloned turned out to be far meaner and much less friendly than the original bull, which disappointed the farmer who’d cloned him. But I digress.)

Even if you do duplicate the exact, same nurturing environment, there are still other factors that can play into personalities. There are so many different factors that go into making a person who they are, which also goes for every other animal on Earth. That’s why identical twins can have radically different personalities, even if raised by the same family. Nurture, nature, the type of environment…all of it matters, as do so many other factors that defy description.

But back to Brady’s dog for the moment.

Bluntly, a genetic duplicate is not the same dog. While it is an exact copy of the original, Junie can’t be Lua, just as Lua couldn’t be Junie. That’s why the owner of the white bull was disappointed in part; he wanted his original bull cloned because he was exceptionally mild-mannered and gentle. However, as I said earlier, the clone of that bull was meaner, very difficult to handle, and nothing like his progenitor.

Such situations have been raised by science fiction authors in the past, mind you. The one I’m the most familiar with is Lois McMaster Bujold’s cloned character Mark Vorkosigan, a younger clone of his brother, Miles. Mark had many things inflicted on him to make him an exact physical duplicate of Miles that didn’t need to happen (read the books BROTHERS IN ARMS and MIRROR DANCE for more information on that), as Miles was damaged in utero due to a failed assassination attempt on his parents, and that obviously didn’t happen to Mark. So, the original, Miles, was only four feet, nine inches because of what happened to him, whereas Mark was biologically retrofitted to look like Miles, but had far heavier bones and would’ve most likely been close to six feet tall (if not over it) had the awful people who illegally cloned him left him alone. (The torturous things done to Mark, if thought about too much, will make anyone sick.)

So, Mark and Miles are facially identical. Their personalities are radically different. They both learn over time to function as true brothers, partly because their mother, Cordelia, was raised in a society that understands how to deal with clones legally, honestly, and completely aboveboard. (Cordelia knows Mark didn’t ask for any of this, which is one of the reasons I love Cordelia so much as a character. But again, I digress.) Mark is quite a bit heavier than Miles is, again because he was not damaged in utero, and Mark learns to use his heavier frame (he frankly says he’s obese, for whatever it’s worth, whereas Miles is skinny and often looks emaciated due to various health woes) to his own advantage.

It’s because I know all of this is as true as Lois McMaster Bujold, a writer who has a strong grounding in science, could make it that I question Tom Brady’s reasoning here. It’s wonderful that he wanted Lua to somehow live on in a successor. But Junie is not Lua, and will not behave like Lua no matter what he wants unless he gets very, very lucky. (Think again about the farmer with his cloned white bull if you don’t believe me.)

We’ve known cloning animals is possible since Dolly the sheep got cloned in 1996. Sheep don’t show as obvious of personalities as a lot of animals (though they do have them), which may be why Dolly’s personality was never called into question. At that point, geneticists were happy to have finally cloned a sheep from an adult cell (as some other sheep had been cloned in a different way back in 1984), and as Dolly the clone was mild-mannered (as most sheep tend to be), that factor was not discussed much in media accounts.

What all of this amounts to, mind you, whether you’re talking about Junie, clone of Tom Brady’s beloved dog Lua, or the fictional Mark Vorkosigan, clone of Miles Vorkosigan, is that a genetic copy — a clone — may be identical from a genetic perspective, but it’s not going to be identical in every other way unless every other factor the original had been exposed to (or had happen to them) was replicated in full. Even then, it’s still unlikely, but theoretically possible, that you’ll get a dog or bull or parakeet or whatever that acts exactly like the original/originator.

Going back to Mark Vorkosigan’s story, he had some personality traits that were just like his progenitor’s, including high intelligence, adaptability, and being able to immerse himself in a role if need be. But he was far surlier, especially at first, as life dealt him a very bad hand (the retrofitting surgeries to cut him down from the height he should’ve had to the height Miles attained due to the damage in utero were nightmarish and horrific). Mark didn’t trust easily, to say the least, and he didn’t know why anyone would want to ever do anything nice for him. (Learning exactly who he is, and who he isn’t, is the main thrust of the novel MIRROR DANCE, which I highly recommend you read.) Over time, Mark becomes a financier and philanthropist (self-made), whereas Miles pursues the military and then later becomes an Imperial Auditor (using all of his skills for the best to solve various problems, roughly). Miles couldn’t do what Mark does, while Mark not only can’t do what Miles does, he has no interest in doing it either.

That’s because they’re both people. They can’t expect to be the same. They know they aren’t no matter how identical their DNA happens to be. Different experiences, different approaches to problems…which is very human and understandable.

Anyway, Tom Brady spent fifty thousand dollars to clone Lua. He got Junie out of it. I hope Junie will be a wonderful family pet, but I also hope that Brady and his family will realize Junie is not Lua, can never be Lua, doesn’t have Lua’s memories or experiences…only has Lua’s DNA, and as Junie matures more every year, her own personality and her own memories and her own experiences will shine through.

The upshot is, while I understand and sympathize with any pet lover who wants their beloved animal back, I think it’s better to go get an animal from the local shelter and adopt that animal than it is to clone your dog. You know full well that the new-to-you dog is not going to react in the same way as any of your other dogs, and you won’t be thrown off by how similar the cloned dog looks to the old…nor by behavior that you probably never saw out of your old dog either. The chance of confusion at how the cloned dog looks just like the old (but doesn’t act just like it) won’t apply, either, as you’ll be able to get to know your dog over time just as your dog is — warts and all, knocking the garbage over and all, chewing up shoes and all, and whatever other mischief the dog can come up with along with its more loveable cuddles, snuggles, and companionable walks.

So, what do you think about Tom Brady’s cloned dog? Or the thought of cloning in general? I’m interested to hear your thoughts.

A Quick Update

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Hey, everyone. Sorry it’s taken me a while to get up a new blog, but I’ve been quite vexed with the housing search. When I was younger — at my first undergraduate school — it took about a month to find a place when nearly everything else was rented. But this search has gone way beyond that, especially as I started it in August…it’s well over three months, and I have yet to find a place to live that I can afford.

That said, I’ve also been battling my usual fall maladies of chronic sinus infections, general malaise, fibromyalgia flares/back problems, and of course the chronic depression I deal with daily. Being able to create helps me fight against all of that. But being in this situation works against being creative, as most of my energy is going toward either survival or finding a new place.

That said, for the moment I am still safe and staying with a family member. Later this month, if I still do not have a place, though, I’m not sure what will happen as the apartment complex here isn’t happy that I’ve been here so long without paying any rent to them. So this is the last month I can do that, though it may be possible for me to “reset the clock” by going to a hotel for a day or two. (Any longer than that, I can’t afford.)

As far as writing goes, I’ve been mostly stalled for all the reasons I gave above. As far as editing goes, I’m finally almost done with a lengthy edit — quite intense, lots of comments to make, and because it’s the last in a series, I have to make sure everything stays in good order. (This means I look stuff up. Nothing wrong with that. But any writer or editor worth anything will tell you what I’m saying right now: the work goes far more slowly if you’re having to do lots of cross-checks with previous books.) I believe I’ve done that, and it’s now just down to the final few things before it goes off to my client.

I am doing my best, in other words. Sometimes I get quite frustrated. (Actually, most of the time.) This is not what I’d hoped for, and not what my father wanted for me, and definitely not what anyone who knows me now and is still alive (including my family) wants either. Yet it’s where I am, and all I can do is my best with the circumstances I’ve got and go from there.

Tomorrow is Veteran’s Day in the US, as probably most of you know. My father was a Navy veteran, as was my late husband, Michael. I have cousins who’ve served, and many friends, along with an ex-husband (he was in the Army, back in the day). I respect people greatly who have served their country, and I appreciate what they’ve done to make this country a better place.

There’s still lots of upheaval going on around me because of governmental issues and strains, too. Everything seems to be in flux, not just me and my living situation.

I wonder sometimes if I am in the wrong place, doing the wrong things, and that I am so far off the track meant for my life (which was to be a college music teacher and performer before my poor health and finances got in the way), there’s no way for me to find my way back.

That said, I’ve done what I thought was best. I’ve helped people as I’m able and will continue to do that as long as I live. I’ve taught myself editing, and am good at it. I write, and always will write, whatever suits me: nonfiction, poetry, fiction, you name it, I can write it and probably have. I’ve used my musical talents in ways I hadn’t expected, but they have been used…and if my health gets any better, perhaps I’ll be able to use them again. (I’d still like to visit France and/or Spain someday, as that’s where classical alto saxophonists are most appreciated.)

So, while I’m battling depression, as I said before, I am still alive. So long as I’m alive, there’s at least some hope for better. I am looking for that hope, while also doing what I can to find my own, independent place to live. (It’s easier to help others when you have a place that’s truly yours where you can retreat to, as needed. A sanctum santorum, in other words. I haven’t had that now in any way, shape, or form for over three months.)

I battle the thought that I’ve failed (all of my novels right now need to be republished, as the rights have reverted back to me and are no longer for sale; unfortunately that’s on the back burner unless/until I can find a place of my own). I battle the thought that Michael might be unhappy with me (though really, I can’t see why he would be; he always thought I was too hard on myself, and this is probably just another of those times). I battle the thought that my maturity and experience may not matter in a world filled with so much automation and the flirtations with AI. I also battle my health, as anyone who’s spent any time here knows…but all I can do is my best.

This is my mantra right now: All I can do is my best.

Maybe that’s how it is always for everyone. But this sense of it being crisis city all the time is hard to live with, and I hope it’ll be alleviated soon. (No disrespect to my family member who took me in, either. That was not easy and I appreciate it greatly. It’s just that I am frustrated with this…and really do need a sanctum santorum of my own for creative reasons.)

So, that’s the update, such as it is.

How are you all doing? (Hopefully better than I am, but at least if you’re alive and kicking, that counts.) Do let me know, if you’re able…I would appreciate it greatly.

Written by Barb Caffrey

November 10, 2025 at 11:44 am

My Favorite Baseball Team, the Milwaukee Brewers, Are on the Brink of Elimination

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Folks, I’m still in a holding pattern with regard to my housing situation, but I can at least write about my favorite baseball team, the Milwaukee Brewers, even if it’s not what I had hoped to write.

“What are you talking about, Barb?” you might be asking.

The Brewers are in the National League Championship Series (NLCS for short) against the “best team money can buy,” the Los Angeles Dodgers. The Dodgers have a huge payroll that’s almost four times as much as what the Brewers can afford (Milwaukee is the smallest “market” in major league baseball, though if you add in the entirety of the state of Wisconsin, it’s comparable to a few others even if nowhere near the Dodgers), and in particular, their pitchers are very highly paid because they’re all proven winners.

That being said, you still have to perform. You have to do what got you here, or you’ll lose. That’s true for any team at any time, regardless of how much (or little) they’re getting paid.

So, the Brewers had the best overall record in MLB this past year. They beat the Dodgers six times and lost none. That had Brewers fans optimistic that this may finally be the year the Brewers go back to the World Series (the team hasn’t been there since 1982; I was very young then but still a huge fan and did attend a World Series game), even though the playoffs can be a “whole different animal.”

But it appears our optimism was misplaced. The Dodgers have steamrolled over the Brewers, and with the exception of game one (where the Brewers had loaded the bases in the ninth inning, only not to score the tying run), they have dominated every game they’ve been in.

Bluntly, the Dodgers have looked like the champions they are and have been for many years. The Brewers batters have looked more like chumps than champs, though most of the pitchers have been excellent and have done exactly what they’ve needed to do to give the slumping Brewers hitters a chance to tie or win the games.

I hate to write words like that, mind you. These guys try hard, and I know no professional athlete wants to end their season in a huge slump. No one wants to have a season that started with “Win one for Ueck!” (Bob Uecker, our longtime radio announcer, also a comedian and TV actor, passed away at the beginning of 2025) end in such ignominity.

But the facts don’t lie.

Now, if I were a sports psychologist, I’d tell the Brewers hitters one thing, and the Brewers pitchers another, but it would amount to the same thing. “Control what you can control” is the overall message, but I’d say to the pitchers that they did everything they could and controlled what they definitely could control. But the pitchers can’t bat for the hitters (with the exception of someone like Shohei Ohtani, Dodgers superstar, pitchers no longer bat), and they can’t control those at-bats or what the hitters do whatsoever. I’d tell the hitters that all they can control is how they approach the at-bat. (Some of the players have had long at-bats that have helped to tire the pitcher out over time, and those are considered successful at-bats or at least not failures even if they don’t result in a hit or walk.) Are they going up there confident in their abilities, confident in what they’ve shown all year long? Or are they going up there expecting to be beaten? (The latter is almost impossible for a professional athlete, mind. You don’t go into that field if you are that defeatist because the odds are very long to get to “the show,” as MLB is called, at all.)

See, if you put it that way, the athlete knows he’s doing his best. (No women, not even female umps, yet in MLB, though there are some female executives and coaches.) He can focus on the process of hitting, rather than dwell on the outcomes they’ve seen. Every day is a new day, and providing you’ve maximized your odds and done what you can to play your best, you have nothing to apologize for.

Anyway, the fact is that the Brewers must now win four games in a row against a Dodgers team that suddenly seems like the best team ever (AKA the 1927 New York Yankees, which featured both Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, among other superstars). This seems like too big of a bridge to cross, at least from what I’ve seen out of the Brewers in this series. Yet, I still have hope that the Brewers can win at least one game, so their fans won’t feel awful, and so they, themselves, won’t feel awful.

Last year, I said to my friends and family that I felt the wrong team went on in the playoffs when the New York Mets won against the Brewers (a last-ditch homer by Pete Alonso, the slugging first baseman of the Mets, was the killing blow). This time, I can’t say that, because the Brewers have simply not been on the same level as the Dodgers during this series.

I will note, for the record, that there have been two teams in the 2000s that have forced a Game 7 after starting a seven-game series down three games to none. Those teams were the 2004 Boston Red Sox, who won Game 7 and advanced to the World Series, and the 2020 Houston Astros, who battled back from that three-game deficit but lost in the decisive Game 7. I will also note for the record that my favorite ever team, the 1982 Brewers, were down two games to none against the then-California Angels in a five-game series and won the final three games to advance to the World Series that year. (The Brewers lost. But they played hard and well and the city of Milwaukee and the state of Wisconsin celebrated them then and continues to appreciate them now. They were the equivalent of this year’s “Average Joes” in having a blue-collar, anything for the team outlook.)

So, it is theoretically possible that the Brewers can still win a game or two and make things feel less awful for themselves and their fans. It’s even theoretically possible that they can still advance to the World Series…but if they’re going to do that, they need to win later today. And as big of a fan as I am, I can’t be sure of that.

Still. The Brewers should focus on winning game 4. Do that, and then you can focus on winning game 5.

I hope they can do that. I’d feel a whole lot better about things if they did, even if they still lose this series and even if the Dodgers still advance to the World Series.

My reasoning for that is simple. The rallying cry “Win it for Ueck!” won’t work next year. So if they really do want to win it for Bob Uecker, the time is now.

No Housing News Yet…But Milwaukee Brewers Continuing to Thrive

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Folks, I knew I owed you all some sort of update regarding my housing situation. I wish I had a better one. I’m still looking for a place and remain on quite a few waiting lists. I am moving up on those lists, but not quickly enough.

I’m still staying with a relative. This is not an easy situation for either one of us. I appreciate the help, though I wish I didn’t need it, and every day is a struggle.

One of the few bright spots I’ve had to consider has been the overall play of the 2025 version of the Milwaukee Brewers. Last year, in the MLB playoffs, the Brewers were eliminated in the first round at the very last minute by the New York Mets (a late homer by Pete Alonso, a slugging first baseman/superstar, off our star closer, Devin Williams, was what caused the Brewers to be eliminated). So this year, in order to have a better playoff chance, the team set a new record for wins with 97 and had the best overall record in the entirety of MLB. This guaranteed the Brewers would have more home games than road games in the playoffs, and also guaranteed a first-round bye so the team could heal up a little.

What’s been so outstanding about the play of the 2025 Brewers is how everyone called to help has stepped up. There was an outfielder called up during the summer, Steward Berroa, who made a great highlight-reel catch in centerfield to save one game, and he was only up a few days with the Brewers. Other standouts were the pitching of Chad Patrick, shuttling back and forth from Triple-A to the big-league club, the pitching of Logan Henderson (who showed without a doubt that he’s a big-leaguer, but was not able to stick in the bigs due to too many people ahead of him at the position), the fact that good players like Blake Perkins and Robert Gasser were able to heal from injuries and come back to contribute…no matter what, the Brewers found a way to win.

And they even turned one odd situation into an advantage, in that pitcher Aaron Civale did not want to be a reliever even on a team that could well win the World Series. He felt he would not make enough money next year if he became a reliever, so the Brewers had to find a trade partner in a hurry. They did. The Chicago White Sox had a struggling first baseman named Andrew Vaughn, who they’d sent to Triple-A over his lack of productivity at the plate. The Brewers swapped Civale for Vaughn, and that was one of the turning points for the Brewers as Vaughn (after an injury to starting first baseman Rhys Hoskins) stepped up in a big way for the Brewers and became not just a star with the team, but a fan favorite.

There’s no quit in the 2025 Brewers. They just keep going. They’re relentless. Their manager, Pat Murphy, has described them as “woodpeckers,” which seems accurate as they just keep pecking away. They are a resilient and determined team, they get along well with each other (always a plus), and they’ve just found a way to keep getting better all season long.

Right now, they are preparing for Game 4 against the Chicago Cubs in Chicago. The Brewers lead this series, two games to one. (The Brew Crew lost last night to Chicago, 4-3.) And they’ll have their very best starting pitcher, their ace, Freddy Peralta, pitching tonight.

No major reporter for MLB picked the Brewers to be as good as they turned out to be. (Most had the Brewers finishing in fourth place, and not even winning more games than they lost. They were quite wrong.) Even now, the Brewers are not expected to beat teams they handily beat all season long if they continue in the playoffs (I’m looking squarely at you, Los Angeles Dodgers), and they’re certainly not expected by the major media outlets to be the National League’s entrant in the World Series.

I hope they will be, though. I like this team a lot. It reminds me of my favorite-ever team, the 1982 Brewers (then in the American League), which was another team that just did not quit and kept going no matter what. The ’82 team is the only one that has ever reached the World Series, and it did not win (though it did take seven games to eliminate the Brewers and end their season without the WS win). It’s about time a new Brewers team gets a chance to win a World Series…and the 2025 team is in an excellent position to do just that, providing they can get by the Cubs and whoever else they might have to play in the next round (the NL Championship Series, or NLCS) — right now, it would appear that team is likely to be the Dodgers, but it could still be the Phillies if the Phillies scramble and are able to win three games in a row (they won one game last night; two to go).

This team, like the ’82 Brewers, gives me hope that if you try hard enough, and you maximize your talents, and if you get some lucky breaks, you can still do very well for yourself. (The Brewers had a fourteen-game winning streak after an eleven-game winning streak earlier, and an eight-game winning streak as well. To win fourteen games in a row meant there were some good breaks happening; that’s when the phrases “Uecker Magic” to commemorate late baseball announcer and friend of the Brewers team Bob Uecker, and “Brewers Magic/Milwaukee Magic” were coined.) Mind you, that doesn’t mean you can take your eye off the ball. You have to keep doing your best, even when it seems hopeless, even when it seems like there’s no way you can win…you can only lose if you give up inside your head, and I refuse to do that.

So, I will cheer on my Brewers tonight as they take on the Cubs in Chicago. I’ll also keep trying to find a good place to live, one that I can afford, that has heat in the winter and air in the summer, in order to improve my overall physical health and give me the best chance to write, edit, and compose music.

21 Years (Yes, 21) Without Michael

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Folks, about a week ago, I observed the title milestone, one I wish I’d never have had to face.

There’s this weird thing about numbers, you see. They can really freak you out. I remember September 21, 2011, as that was the seventh year since Michael died. Supposedly, all the cells in your body are replaced within seven years. I didn’t like that milestone either.

Others I haven’t liked included in that same year the day I turned a day older than Michael was when he died (no, I’m not going to mention which day) and of course the day my best friend, Jeff Wilson, died in November.

So, the sad milestones (“sadaversaries” in my parlance, a contraction of sad and anniversaries) have kept piling up. Ten years without Michael on September 21, 2014. Twenty years without him, last year. And twenty-one years without him this year…it’s something we do, as human beings, to both mark the passage of time and the people who shaped us and meant the most to us. It must not be too surprising that I always know exactly how long it’s been without my beloved husband. But it’s still difficult, challenging, and frustrating.

The reason twenty-one years is significant has to do with something I once heard about learning music and other skills. If you have the talent and you put in the work, it supposedly takes twenty-one years to be adept in any given discipline.

How does that apply, though? Does that mean I’m adept at grieving now?

I don’t know. I wish I did.

There’s a lot of people I miss in this life. My grandma. My father. My aunt Laurice and uncle Carl. Jeff Wilson. Those are all huge losses, and I will remember them all until the end of my life.

But nothing and no one has ever been more important to me than my late husband. Michael understood me and I understood him. We fit in every possible way, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. We had amazing, wide-ranging conversations, we were both creative (in addition to his writing, he was a great cook and an excellent artist), we both wanted most of the same things — stability, honesty, a deep and abiding commitment to one another, and to be together as long as we possibly could.

We did get almost three years from the time I met him, and two years, two months, and twenty-eight days of marriage. After so much loss, so much sadness, it seemed absolutely miraculous to meet Michael, and I know he felt the same way about me.

I’m still struggling with trying to find a new place to live. I’m also struggling with many other things at the moment, none of them particularly pleasant. But it does help me to know that Michael always believed in me, and he thought no matter how long it took, I would always find a way through any problem.

In short, I’d always survive.

When he was alive, of course, it would’ve been “survive and thrive.” But right now, survival is what I need to cling to, along with the belief that I can, will, and must get out of the current situation and into a better one.

Michael would tell me, if he could, that I have not failed. Not as a writer, as a musician, as a scholar, as a wife, or even as a widow. That I have not failed. So long as I keep trying, so long as there’s even a breath remaining in my body, I have not failed.

I’m trying to keep that thought in the top of my mind, these days, as the struggle continues.

Reflections Regarding Lois McMaster Bujold’s “Paladin of Souls”

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As I continue to look for a place to live, I’ve pondered many things. But the one thing I kept coming back to, the one book in this case, was Lois McMaster Bujold’s excellent fantasy novel, PALADIN OF SOULS.

You might be wondering why. I know I did, when I could not get this book out of my mind…but now, I believe I have at least some idea of why this book is resonating so much with me at the moment.

The protagonist, Ista, is a widow. Just like I am. She’s in midlife, which also is just like me…of course, Ista is the Dowager Royina (read: Queen) of Chalion, which isn’t like me at all. But Ista feels stifled. She feels like there’s just no point in the life she’s leading, though she’s not sure how to break away and do her own thing. She’s also not exactly sure what “her own thing” might be, as she’s been widowed for quite a few years (around twenty, I think); for much of that time, Ista was seen as stark, raving bonkers even though she wasn’t.

(To go into all the reasons why people thought Ista was crazy, you need to read the prequel to this book, THE CURSE OF CHALION. It’s also an excellent novel.)

So, Ista is always watched and is frequently misunderstood. (I completely empathize with her in this. Women in midlife being misunderstood, much less widowed women, is something nearly all women in midlife can identify with, even if we can’t necessarily identify with always being watched.) But she is as sober, and sane, as any judge, and finally figures out a way to break out of her genteel captivity: she’ll say she’s going on a pilgrimage, and what other people assume (mostly they think Ista is praying for a healthy son delivered from her daughter Iselle, the current Royina and co-monarch of both Chalion and Ibra, but Ista thinks praying for anything except health for her daughter and any baby regardless of gender is stupid) is up to the other people.

Also, I have to mention this: Ista is not the easiest person to like at the beginning of this book. She is bitter, but for very good reasons. Her late husband did not treat her very well, and that has never been fully faced by anyone, much less Ista. (Her late husband was older than Ista, but that wasn’t the major problem. What that problem happened to be was that her late husband the Roya was in love with his top-ranked courtier, so Ista was always going to come last in that love triangle. Not that she had anything to do with the courtier other than tolerate his presence.) She’s been kind of an afterthought for a while; yes, she’s the mother of the current co-monarch (most Royinas do not rule, but Iselle certainly does with her husband Bergon of Ibra), but her own life has taken a backseat to her motherhood. And Ista has gifts of her own, which need to be used…thus the pilgrimage.

As I don’t want to spoil things too much for you if you haven’t read PALADIN OF SOULS yet, I’m going to skirt a lot of the details. I will say that Ista, as she grows and starts leaning into her talents rather than being denied them (as these talents make her seem crazy to non-cognoscenti), becomes a deeper, richer, and spiritual person. And if she’s very careful, she just might find love unlooked for with the right man at the right time, providing they can get through a whole lot of difficulties first.

Then again, love usually has to be fought for in some fashion, otherwise it doesn’t mean a whole lot.

In my life, I know for sure that Michael and I fought to be together. We were long distance, me in Iowa, he in San Francisco, for most of our courtship. Neither of us had much money, so how we got to be together lay in my mother receiving an unexpected windfall. She knew Michael was important to me, even though she’d not met him yet, and so she sent him that money.

Michael’s own mother, on the other hand, did not want him to leave San Francisco. She thought him taking a chance on me, a woman who was divorced twice by the age of thirty-six, was dumb even though he, too, was divorced (albeit just once).

Of course, she was wrong in this. Michael told her so, and he was right to do so. (Now that they’re both on the Other Side, I hope they have reconciled, but really, that reconciliation needed to start with her.) Michael knew everything about me; best of all, he loved the parts of me I couldn’t even like (but needed in order to be the person I was and am today).

This is what love is, when you’re mature enough to understand it. That understanding, that deep caring, that appreciation of everything you are — even the stuff you can’t stand about yourself — is what is needed to form a lasting marital partnership. And, like Ista in PALADIN OF SOULS, I found along the way that I had more gifts than I’d realized at first.

See, all of that is needed for a great emotional and physical connection. How can you make love to someone else if you don’t know them fully? If you don’t want to know them fully?

Ista says in one place that she’s late to discover herself. (This is me eliding a few things, for those who have read PALADIN OF SOULS. Still trying hard not to spoil it for new readers.) I think a lot of women in midlife — Hell, a lot of men, too — come to realize this, partly because they now have lived several decades and know themselves and the world at large far better than before.

At any rate, if you are in the right relationship, it should be mature, deep, with much mutual appreciation…and yes, you should have a wonderful and rich love life, too. (If you don’t have that, and it’s not because your partner is completely unable for some reason, you’re probably in the wrong relationship. But I digress.) You should feel understood, valued, and appreciated for who you are. You shouldn’t ever have to apologize for being yourself, or for loving your spouse/partner; if you find yourself doing that, again, you probably are in the wrong relationship.

What Ista finds out through her adventures is very simple, but also very profound: Life means more when you know yourself. You can do more with your life once you know your talents and gifts, no matter how unusual they may be to your particular culture and belief system. And only by fully realizing who we are and acting on our talents can we be open enough to embrace a new love relationship despite whatever hardships you had to deal with in the past.

I think the reason I can at least consider having another relationship (if it ever happens) is because Michael was a wonderful, caring, and considerate husband. In every way — mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual — he and I were a match. (One of the ministers I’ve talked to since Michael died told me he thought Michael and I knew each other before we were born, and were supposed to be with one another all along. I told the minister that I wish I’d have known where Michael was, as I’d have gone out to San Francisco by the age of twenty if not sooner to find him. But I also knew that one of the reasons he and I took to each other so quickly is because we’d lived life and knew what we wanted along with what we didn’t want and couldn’t tolerate in a marriage. Maturity was part of what was needed for the two of us to get along like a house on fire, in other words.)

Right now, I’m only eight days from passing the saddest anniversary of all: the day Michael died. Even though I believe firmly that the spirit is eternal, and that Michael in some ways never left me at all (as the two of us did become one, and as long as I’m alive, at least part of him is, too), it’s tough not to be able to get a hug from him. Or a kiss. Or anything else, especially during tough times like what I’m dealing with right now.

Knowing you are loved helps to get through the bad times. It also helps you believe that better days are possible. But getting to those better days is a struggle, especially when you seem to be in a position where you can do little to affect your own outcome.

None of us widows and/or widowers have chosen to be in this particular state. All of us who had loving spouses want our husbands and wives back. We don’t like having to walk alone, even though the memories of that love help to sustain and nurture us so we can at least make the attempt to do the walking.

Anyway, along with Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s three books in the Night Calls series, I’ve added PALADIN OF SOULS to the frequently re-read pile. I find more and more stuff in there that feels extremely true to life, and like Allie in Ms. Kimbriel’s books, Ista is a heroine worth remembering and appreciating.