Barb Caffrey's Blog

Writing the Elfyverse . . . and beyond

Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

This Month’s Health Update, Etc.

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Folks, I’ve been asked to give an update about housing and such, so this blog is that answer.

Because of my health cratering, I haven’t been able to find a new apartment or place to live. In addition, the finances aren’t exactly there either. I’ve been able to keep my health from further going off the cliff than it already was, but I haven’t been able to regain much, if any, energy since I moved out of Dad’s house in late August.

The doctors have run a number of blood tests. They didn’t find much. They have no idea what’s causing this.

What I’m trying to do is to keep my head up, work to tolerance, write when I can, and find something good in every day no matter how lousy I feel otherwise. (Usually, it has to do with my mother’s dog, Bratty, AKA Ms. Brat. She’s a sweet little thing, and she makes me laugh daily.) Sunsets are good. Conversations with friends are good. The occasional visit to my friend who lives nearby is good. Talking with my sister is good. Stuff like that, along with of course talking with Mom daily and enjoying a few laughs with her when we can find something we both enjoy or appreciate, helps me to keep going.

Is this what I wanted when I moved out of Dad’s house? Absolutely not.

The problem is, I need a health miracle that I don’t possess in order to regain enough energy to do all that I’m doing now (what amounts to two full-time jobs; trust me), plus find an apartment, and then somehow be able to afford that apartment’s first and last month’s rent. I’m hanging on to the stuff in storage in the hopes I’ll need it again, but my health has been so very bad, I haven’t checked on the storage since October. (Yes, you read that right.)

Dad used to say that doctors are only practicing medicine, with the emphasis on practicing. I think there’s a certain element of that going on here. I don’t fit the mold, whatever the mold is, and thus they have no idea what’s causing this level of illness beyond a few things I was already treating (and have continued to treat).

I don’t know what the answers are, here. I hope that when I feel better, I’ll be able to live better, have more time to myself, etc.

The question I often think about is this: Would Michael want this, for me? And the answer is, “Of course he wouldn’t.” But he’d want me to do my best, which I am doing, and he’d tell me that slow and steady wins the race (whatever the race is), and that if I can’t do it today, I’ll do twice as much tomorrow. And I if I still can’t do it tomorrow, I’ll do three times as much the day after that, because that’s just how I am.

I miss my husband very, very much. But I try to keep those words in mind, and I do the best I can as I move on.

Oh, one more thing: My three novels are out on submission to a new publisher, which is why they haven’t come back out yet. If the new publisher decides against them, I will let you all know. (The covers are of course not available to the new publisher, but he knows that already.) Then, I will get them back up…and we’ll all go on from there.

I hope everyone else is doing as well as possible, and I also hope that you can find something good about every day no matter how frustrated you are, and no matter how frustrating the world seems to be on any given day. Life is short. We have to do our best, whatever our best is that day.

That’s all.

Written by Barb Caffrey

April 24, 2026 at 1:45 pm

Mentor, Friend, and Superlative Writer, Always…Rosemary Edghill Has Died

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There are some sorts of blogs I don’t ever want to write, and this is one of them. But I must.

Earlier this week, Sharon Lee posted that Rosemary Edghill (who also wrote as eluki bes shahar and James Mallory, among other noms de plume) passed away. Sharon knew Rosemary far longer than I, and Rosemary’s widow knew how to contact Sharon to let everyone else know as best we could.

This is a huge loss.

Rosemary was my first writing mentor besides my late husband Michael, and she championed ELFY (later turned into two books, AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE and A LITTLE ELFY IN BIG TROUBLE) fiercely and well. My husband was also mentored by Rosemary, and Rosemary, upon Michael’s passing, paid for an online obituary in perpetuity (as far as I can tell) so people could pay their respects to his memory, something I greatly appreciated.

But to say that isn’t enough.

You see, Rosemary helped writers of all sorts. She also raised dogs, King Charles Cavalier spaniels, to be exact, and competed with them in agility and other things. Later in life, she rescued dogs, especially the aforesaid King Charles Cavalier spaniels, and was a firm believer in lifelong pet ownership. (Which makes sense to me, completely.) She had many different careers, including an editorial internship at Avon Books (I think this was a paid internship), and she taught me much of writing as well as editing (especially after Michael died, as Michael was himself a good editor), along with the whole business of publishing.

She had a huge presence, did Rosemary. Just seemed like one of those people who’d never die, because they are so vibrant, so full of life even when laid low (due to illness, a broken leg, or whatever), that you can’t imagine them being dead. It just seems unthinkable.

As Sharon Lee put it, Rosemary was brilliant and sometimes difficult. Maybe we all are, we writers. I’m not sure.

I do know that Rosemary and I butted heads once and only once, and due to that, we were estranged for several years. (I felt terrible about this, but I respected her wishes in this, figuring she’d seek me out again when she could.) She eventually re-established ties, and we never once talked about what had estranged us, possibly because there was no point in rehashing old things. (A few people who’ve known me for a long time know what this was, and why, but I see no point in bringing it up now except as an explanation of why Rosemary and I were estranged when I cared about her so much and she cared about me so much, too.)

I loved her writing, the way she used language, how she could write effortlessly in any genre, how fertile her mind and imagination were, how many different interests she had (and she seemed to be expert in all of them, a true rarity)…in many ways, I thought Rosemary was a polymath, of sorts.

Rosemary was also politically active, and raised money for liberal causes. I admired that, too. She knew I was part of the effort to recall then-Governor Scott Walker (R) back in 2011, and she respected that, even though we weren’t ultimately able to get Walker out. (He was indeed recalled, another election was held, but he won that election and was never replaced, finishing out his original term in the process.) She knew I tried not to be hypocritical, and thus if any Republicans were upset with their office-holders who could be recalled, I supported their right to recall said office-holders…though I also worked on behalf of one state senator, Bob Wirch, to successfully retain his seat (in the same manner as Walker had; he was recalled but won the new election and continued to serve in office).

She was complimentary of my efforts to let people know about LGBTQ issues (or as my niece would point out, more formally LGBTQIA) and was married herself to a woman of great worth and strength. (I never met Rosemary’s wife, don’t know her name, haven’t been introduced. But anyone who was married to Rosemary must be a woman of great worth and strength, as Rosemary just did not put up with fools whatsoever, and would not waste her time on anyone who wasn’t a phenomenal person.) While I am not on the whole LGBTQIA spectrum myself, I deeply respect it, partly because my late brother-in-law, Sam, was gay, and partly because I worked with a bunch of lesbian and bisexual women early in life, when I was about nineteen or twenty, and knew they were no different than I was, excepting that the bisexual women sometimes dated men or women, and that the lesbian women only dated other women. They were as worthy as I of love, care, understanding, concern, and whatever else comes with a true partnership, and that’s why I cared, long before it was fashionable, and very long before I even met Michael, much less knew anything about his brother Sam, about these issues.

Rosemary was one of the first to ever see my novel CHANGING FACES, and gave me several excellent comments. She also gave me a sell-quote for my first Elfy book, gave me encouragement at many times and in many places, recommended me to anthology editors as someone who could and would write a story competently and well…there’s not much more I can say, except that she also was kind and caring after Michael passed, even leaving a telephone message (possibly the only time I ever heard her voice, as we were not fortunate enough to meet in person, ever).

All of that is only scratching the surface of who Rosemary Edghill was. I know that. But I can’t help but at least do that much, to give you all some idea of the huge sense of loss I have now that Rosemary has passed on to whatever the next world is (or the Elysian Fields, or The Good Place TM).

I hope that Rosemary first was reunited with her loved ones, including all of her wonderful dogs. I then hope she and Michael settled down for a good gossip, maybe over some tea and shortbreads, as those were favorite things of Michael’s and I’m sure Rosemary would not have been adverse.

Rosemary wrote Regency romances, SF&F of all sorts, tie-in books, general fiction, and way too much else to list. Everything she ever wrote had value, worth, fun stuff, interesting situations, and fast-paced writing that always held my interest no matter how tired I was and no matter how much nonsense I’d had to deal with before I finally got a precious hour or two to read her books.

I will treasure her books, her writing, and her presence in my life forever.

I really wish she wasn’t gone. She was only 69. That seems too young, to my mind, these days…anyway, the SF&F community is in mourning, and I completely understand why.

All we can do now, though, is emulate her the best we can, and live our best lives, writing however often we’re able, as we may.

If you have memories of Rosemary, or wish to talk about this post, go ahead and leave a comment.

Written by Barb Caffrey

April 12, 2026 at 10:25 am

Still Here, Still Trying

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Folks, I realized I hadn’t blogged in a bit, so I figured I should come here and say something — anything — to let you know I’m still here, still trying, still fighting to do whatever I can, as I can, with whatever health and time I’ve got left to me.

I know that sounds like an overly dramatic way to put things. But it feels right, considering all the various things that I’ve dealt with in the past twenty-plus years. Every day is a struggle. I wake up without my husband Michael, and because my timesense is so wonky — I swear, it feels like he was just here yesterday, even though I know realistically it’s been over twenty years — I have to face that before I can get to doing anything else.

Writing without him is different. Living without him is definitely different, and not nearly as much fun.

But I do the best that I can.

The stuff on the agenda this weekend includes talking with my cowriter, Gail Sanders, about a story we’re writing for an upcoming anthology (more details later), hopefully going over the first of the two Elfy books so I can get it back up for sale next week, and then finishing up an edit or two. (I can pretty much guarantee one. Can’t guarantee the second, as that one has proven elusive and slippery throughout. I wish I could explain this better, but…when you listen to music, there are some pieces that just resonate with you, right? That feel absolutely correct for whatever mood you’re in, and that perfectly encapsulate whatever they’re trying to convey? And how some things are much harder to understand, far more difficult even though they seem like they should just fall in line in the same way the music that you gravitate toward? That’s what’s going on with this second edit.)

And if I’m very, very lucky, I’ll be able to do a little fiction writing. I’ve got a story in a friend’s universe — a novel-length story — that’s been stalled now at about 75K. I can almost see the next part, but am not there yet, and it’s been in this place for weeks, probably because my personal life remains a work-in-progress. (My kind way of saying “not what I want it to be.”)

I’ll of course do the regular stuff, like grocery shopping, helping my family member as much as I can, playing with the dog…these things are a given.

I hope to be back soon with some sort of positive progress report (hopefully, one that includes “my book is back out and available for sale”). Until then, thanks for checking in.

Written by Barb Caffrey

March 20, 2026 at 3:36 pm

Former NBA Star, Basketball Hall of Famer Chris Bosh Wrote Something Everyone Needs to Read

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When I woke up this morning, I started my normal routine. The aches and pains I live with, the overall frustration of still looking for a place while attempting to help my ill family member, and of course the grief I will always have over the loss of my beloved husband Michael are always there. (Sometimes I wake up and wonder where Michael is, not as in, “What is the Other Side and what could he be doing there?” but “He was just here, in the dream! Where is he now?”)

Life is often frustrating. But it has moments of joy, too. And those moments can be ripped from you in a heartbeat if you don’t pay attention to your health or the folks you most care about in order to chase meaningless things (like trying to keep up with a famous Internet star or content creator; it’s great that they do what they do, but there’s nothing wrong with what you do either and you don’t have to do the same things in order to have value or create meaning in your life.)

The reason I say all this is that I read a very insightful column by former NBA star and basketball Hall-of-Famer Chris Bosh, which is the first post he’s written at Substack in over four years. Here’s a bit from that:

I was walking from my closet into the bathroom, getting ready for an evening out, when my body turned on me. A numbing sensation shot down my left leg, that sharp, electric feeling you get when you bump your funny bone. Before I knew it, I was on the floor.

I slowly came to in a pool of my own blood while my wife frantically spoke with 911. I tried to move my body the way I always had, and it didn’t respond.

There was no choice but to surrender. It was a terrifying event, something I had never experienced before. That’s when the realization hit me, everything can collapse at a moment’s notice. There’s not always a warning. There’s not always a symptom or a buildup to let you know what’s coming. One moment you’re walking. The next moment, you could be gone.

He’s right.

He later discusses that there are a whole lot of things people pay attention to in this life that don’t matter one bit. The important things are ones that we sometimes take for granted, like health, the health of our loved ones, enough time to spend with our loved ones, and doing things that edify us rather than gratify us. (Though if you love learning, as I do, it can be both sometimes.)

What Chris Bosh and his wife went through was scary, to say the least. And if a former professional athlete, one who’s always taken excellent care of his body (or he’d never have been able to do the remarkable things he did on the court to make a living), can have this happen, any of us can.

(As if I didn’t know that already, considering what happened to Michael. But I digress, because it’s important to be reminded of our core truths sometimes.)

I left a comment there about how I understood, and about two of my best friends, who’ve suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” health-wise, and some of the limitations they have. (I also briefly sketched some of the limitations I have.)

The important thing, though, is that we’re still alive to do whatever we can. I survived a pulmonary embolism, which not everyone can do (I was told how lucky I was in the ER a few years ago). Chris Bosh just survived this scary and disturbing experience. My friends Kat and Lika have survived illness, misdiagnoses, lots of frustration and pain, and the loss of being able to freely move about and do whatever they want to do without having to plan for the energy expenditure first.

Make no mistake: when you have to constantly “ration your spoons” (referring to “spoon theory,” here; Google it), life changes for you and seemingly gets smaller.

But that’s only seemingly. The world is still wide, still has possibilities and accomplishments, still has something of value to offer, and most importantly, we still have something important to offer to it, too.

We have to try to smell the flowers, as cliched as that phrase is. We have to figure out who matters most to us, and let them know that, and value them and honor them, before it’s too late to do so. We also have to figure out what is the best use of our time, energy, and resources, and spend more time on that and less time on nonessentials like doomscrolling. (Though there often is a lot to doomscroll about, it doesn’t do much good and wastes our precious time.)

In my case, I am trying to save what energy I have to write, edit, comment, and also compose music on the side (that I can play myself, though if all goes well, someday I hope to hear someone else or maybe a band or even an orchestra play it once I flesh it out a little). These are the important things in my life.

Of course, I still have to do things like food shopping, laundry, care for my ill family member, care for my health, etc. Those things don’t go away. But I can perhaps approach them a little differently and be grateful I’m here to still do them…at least some of the time. (None of us can be grateful for chores all of the time. Even Mother Theresa had days she didn’t want to do her job if I remember some of her quoted comments right. And I’m sure some of what she did seemed like a chore for her.)

The important thing is what we do while we’re here. The people we love. The activities that make us go, give us life, and give us a reason to get up in the morning despite the pain and stress.

That’s why I loved Chris Bosh’s Substack column today, and hope you will, too.

Freddy Peralta Got Traded from the Brewers, and I Have Thoughts…

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Folks, last week one of my favorite Milwaukee Brewers pitchers, Freddy Peralta, got traded to the New York Mets.

Why is this important to me? Well, he was the de facto ace of the staff, was fifth in the Cy Young Award voting for best pitcher, and had proven to be durable and dependable in his career with the Brewers.

I can hear you now, though. “If he’s so good, Barb, why was he traded to another team?”

The Brewers are a small-market franchise, meaning they do not get as much advertising money as bigger-market teams like New York (either the Yankees or the Mets) or, God forbid, the Los Angeles Dodgers, they who have wrecked competitive balance and have been allowed to do so by MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred. (Don’t get me started on the Dodgers bloated payroll, or I’ll be here all day.) Because of that, they can’t afford to pay many players what they’re worth. They usually choose one or two players to pay, and try to lock others up early with better-than-average contracts for their youth or lack of time in grade as a MLB player, which will buy out their arbitration years (that’s where if they don’t like the contract they’re offered, they can go in front of an arbitrator; the player’s representative gives the figure he wants, MLB team gives the figure they want, and the arbitrator decides).

Also, Peralta was a beneficiary of this, to a degree. They signed him to a long-term contract extension early in his career that, at the time, was worth more than his stats would indicate as they felt he had huge upside. They were right (as the Brewers front office staff often is). Peralta, the last few years, was still making excellent money for a non-sports star, but far, far less than most of his pitching contemporaries.

But this is his “walk year.” Meaning, he has only one year until free agency, where he can negotiate with any team (including the dreaded Dodgers). The Mets may be able to sign Peralta to a long-term contract extension before the end of this year, but the Brewers never would’ve been able to do so. That’s why the Mets made an offer (two prospects, Jett Williams and Brandon Sproat, for Peralta and fellow right-handed pitcher Tobias Myers), and it’s why the Brewers accepted that offer.

I have nothing against either Williams or Sproat, mind you. I hope they’ll do well for the Brewers, as Williams is a utility player with great speed who makes contact, and Sproat is a pitcher with big upside. But the Brewers traded a known quantity in Peralta, a semi-known quantity in Myers (who had a good year in 2024, and split time in 2025 between AAA and the big-league club), to get the two prospects. And while Sproat has pitched a little in the big leagues, the jury is out as to whether or not he’ll eventually be a good replacement for Peralta, as durable starters are rare these days in MLB.

The thing is, as a long-time fan of a small-market team, I know how hard it is for them to compete, year after year, with deeper pocketed clubs (especially the Dodgers; I like some of what the Dodgers do from the front office, they have a great staff, and I like their manager Dave Roberts. But the amount of money they spend on personnel is insane). That’s why it hurts to see good player after good player leaving the team, whether it’s Prince Fielder years ago or Freddy Peralta now.

We’re fortunate, in a way, that we have had some long-term stars to look at, like Hall of Famer Robin Yount (only played for the Brewers), former MVP and Rookie of the Year Ryan Braun (only played for the Brewers), and former MVP Christian Yelich (still active, and who’s only played for two teams in his career, the Miami Marlins where he started and the Brewers ever since he got traded to them). The Brewers have been canny in some of their moves, such as signing stars like Peralta and emerging superstar Jackson Chourio to long-term extensions early, which keeps them in Milwaukee years longer than might’ve been possible otherwise. (Every time they do this, they’re gambling that the player will develop well and won’t get hurt. So far, their gambles have mostly been very good to extremely good.)

That said, it hurts when former Brewers stars like Willy Adames bolt for other teams in free agency, even though as fans we know that players have to go wherever they can get the best deal as their careers are so blessedly short. It hurts when former Cy Young Award winner Corbin Burnes gets traded during his “walk year,” as he was a few years ago, no matter how good the folks are who come back in that trade. (The jury’s still out on pitcher DL Hall, but Joey Ortiz has proven himself a capable and reliable defensive infielder. He does not hit for contact, though, and strikes out way too much for a guy who is not a slugger. I’d grade that trade as something like a C-plus for the Brewers, but it could still go up if Ortiz ever figures out where the strike zone is and learns to stop waving at pitches far outside of it and if Hall ever gets healthy.) It hurts when world-class closers Josh Hader and Devin Williams get traded, and it hurts when someone who didn’t really get much of a chance this last year but proved himself to be a standup guy — Rhys Hoskins — is not re-signed.

And it hurts when Peralta, who, like Adames, was a great clubhouse guy who everyone seemed to love and appreciate (and never called out anyone else for poor play other than his own self, a rarity with contemporary ballplayers in some respects), gets traded during his walk year also.

It doesn’t matter that my head understands the logic. My heart is still kind of bruised, as a fan of these players. (Also, Adames and Peralta, like current Brewers star Christian Yelich, were known for their philanthropy over time and overall unselfish attitudes.)

I know that when Peralta’s career ends, he’ll be inducted first to the Walk of Fame (as all past All-Stars representing the Brewers tend to be) and then later the Wall of Honor. He’ll always be a Brewers player in my heart, except when he plays the Brewers (in which case I will hope he gets a no-decision). He’ll always be loved in Milwaukee.

Unfortunately, that’s cold comfort to me right now as a fan. And I do wonder how general managers or front office staff, those who know these players personally far better than I ever could, manage to do this without throwing up and having night sweats.

Introspection City (A Meditation on Life, Minnesota, and Struggles)

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Have you ever been in this place I find myself? Looking inward, because looking outward makes no sense?

Over the past six months, I’ve lost so much stuff. Some of it was important to me — favorite books, various small things like dishes and glasses that didn’t make it in the move (not that it would help much if it did, except make me feel better, as it’s all in storage), other things that gave me comfort every day — and some wasn’t. But there’s no denying that much of how my life is lived has changed.

I stand at a crossroads of possibilities, yes. Some are very low-level possibilities (like finding a second guy as good as Michael was); some are higher-level possibilities (such as visiting another country for a while, as I’ve been invited to two different places) that seem impossible due to financial constraints. My health also limits me more than I’d wish, had I my druthers.

The amount of time I have for myself is very low at the moment, which is why my books continue to languish as “out of print” (which is weird, because they were always ebooks anyway, so technically were never print at all). Because of the struggle of the last several months on various fronts, I continue to make strides back to the life I’d thought I knew. It wasn’t always wonderful, but it had enough time in it to write both music and words, for me to think about what I should do next, writing-wise, and I was able to juggle all my various commitments to home, work, and family well enough that I knew I was still in there, fighting.

I’m not sure what fighting looks like right now.

Remember how I said, above, that looking outward makes no sense? I am struggling with what’s happened in Minnesota, as two people who shouldn’t be dead are, and while there’s some dispute about the first tragic death, that of Renee Good, there’s not a whole lot of dispute regarding the death of ICU nurse Alex Pretti. He went to another woman’s aid as he didn’t like it that five or six ICE officers were holding a rather short and slight woman to the ground and beating her. They’d pepper-sprayed her and they pepper-sprayed him, but he managed to help the woman up…only to get tackled himself, and then shot several times. He had a gun tucked into his waistband but did not draw it. (There are multiple angles of view, enough so that AI — artificial intelligence/images — shouldn’t be a problem here. They were posted in real time, too, when it happened, and witnesses confirm what happened along with a doctor — a pediatrician — who attempted to help Pretti stay alive.) He had a legal permit to carry a firearm (I’m not sure why he felt he needed it as a nurse, but it was his right), so all the nonsense about him carrying a lot of ammo and such and supposedly being an agent provocateur or whatnot is ludicrous.

Milwaukee, which is the biggest city in Southeastern Wisconsin (or all of Wisconsin), is the next city that’s going to see more than it wants to of ICE. This worries me.

Before anyone asks, I support ICE’s legitimate mission of going after the “worst of the worst” criminals and putting them in jail where they belong. (I also appreciate a secure border policy.) People who’ve overstayed their visas do not count in that category. American citizens do not count. Folks with green cards do not count. Families should not be split up, and mothers and children should not be going to different places.

In Renee Good’s case, she may have run over an officer’s foot. That is painful. But it does not warrant a killing. It warrants being put in jail and having her day in court. She would be alive that way and justice would perhaps be served at some point.

As for Alex Pretti, I don’t see where even sending him to jail for a few hours until he bonded out was necessary. But if they had wanted to do that, at least he’d be alive. (To see on the various videos — no, I will not link to them — that he rose to his knees despite being shot, only to be shot even more times until he ended up on the ground again, makes me extremely ill.)

The actions of ICE in Minnesota are making me ask this question: Are we still a nation of laws? Or are we only a nation of vigilante justice?

So, as I wrestle with my own issues — finance, health, where am I going to live, am I doing the right thing in the right way, etc. — I’m also watching as my country seems to be imploding.

It’s Introspection City all the way around. And I have to admit, I don’t like it at all.

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

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.