“I wish to be cremated. One-tenth of my ashes shall be given to my agent, as written in our contract.” ~ Groucho Marx

“If you dream of becoming an eagle, you follow your dreams and not the words of a bunch of chickens.” ~ Penny Johnson Jerald

I signed with Dreamsphere Books! My second novel, Chorus of Crows, will launch sometime in 2026. Here's a preview...

When retired farmer Oren Walton receives an offer for a romantic hook-up in his rusty R.V., he embarks on a summer-long relationship and respite from loneliness and heartache—the death of his wife and son, Parkinson’s disease. Finally, Oren feels happy. But there’s a problem: Oren’s daughter, Sedona, thinks he hallucinated the whole affair.

Soon, strange happenings percolate on the farm. Oren battles trickster crows and sleepwalks into deadly farm machinery mishaps. Strange visitors arrive with mud cleaved to their boots, and a miracle of birth occurs on the porch, both foul and fabulously freaky. Sedona doesn’t see a darn thing except she hears unusual wailing in the barn at night but figures it’s only a litter of undiscovered kittens nestled outside. Besides, life on the farm has always been weirder than a lutefisk supper since her mother’s unexpected death and the sad day her brother died in the hidden spot behind the barn.

As summer rolls forward, Sedona discovers her dead mother’s diaries. She finds comfort in her mother’s words, but they don’t insulate her from the dangers of living with her dad’s increasingly malevolent delusions. Lavinia, Oren’s annoyingly real lady friend, thinks Oren is off his rocker. And Jeb—Sedona’s summer romance—is sure of it. Only one thing is certain: no one will survive the pestilence at the farm unless an answer from the stars can solve the mystery of the spot.

~

I have a new lead magnet freebie with Water Street Design on Etsy. Every new subscriber receives a free, downloadable and adorable greeting card from the WSD star seller Etsy shop. If any current subscribers want a free card, just let me know! Look to your inbox for my next newsletter on Monday, April 21.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

“I'm a dreamer. I have to dream and reach for the stars, and if I miss a star then I grab a handful of clouds.” ~ Mike Tyson

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“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.” ~ St. Augustine

Last month, I revealed that travel is my creative muse during Part 1 of this post. Here’s Part 2 and my list of fun travel tips for your adventures in Central America:

Nicaragua’s Flor de Cana rum is the sweetest spirit since Casper the Ghost. Order a servico completo, and you’ll get a bottle of rum, a can of Coke, lime, and ice. It’s an evening in a glass.

Do you want to fly 600 feet above the jungle and defy gravity (like in The Levitation Game) on one of the longest ziplines in Central America? Book Sky Tram/Trek in Fortuna, Costa Rica. Whoopee!

To see the most majestic volcanoes, visit Concepción and Maderas on Ometepe island off the coast of Nicaragua. It’s like Jurassic Park without the dinosaurs. 

If you can’t stay with George and Amal Clooney on Lake Como, travel to Lake Atitlan in Guatemala instead. It’s the most beautiful lake in Central America. 

If city lights are your thing, visit Panama City. That’s a no-brainer. But better yet, fly to Boquete; it’s the Switzerland of Panama.

Don’t go to an island off the coast of Belize. Instead, go to the mainland and explore spooky caves and Mayan ruins, like Xunantunich, a haunted ruin accessible only by ferry. It’s small but big on wonder and climbable ruins with a view. 

Dominicalito Beach in Costa Rica is silica nirvana. Go at low tide and park in the tree line behind the beach. There’s plenty of shade to relax with an Imperial beer and a long strip of sand for delightful walking. Old fishing boats bounce on one end, and the other looks like a chocolate chip cookie, with tasty rocks instead of chocolate chips and explorable tide pools scattered around toasty colored sand. 

They serve a heaping pile of delicious Mahi Mahi on the best booze cruise in Costa Rica. You’ll launch with Sunset Sails in Quepos near Manuel Antonio Monkey Park. 

Did you get rejected from the television show Survivor? Visit Yaxha in Guatemala. Jeff Probst and the gang filmed Survivor amidst the Mayan ruins; you can see it with a full stomach. Eating rice is optional. 

Do you remember the slogan, Calgon, take me away? Live it at Hacienda Orosi hot springs in Costa Rica. It’s perfect for celebrity selfies of you and me. 

My favorite travel memory occurred in Granada, Nicaragua, many years ago. We flew to Managua after Christmas and rode by van to Granada, an old city on the shores of Lake Nicaragua. Mombacho Volcano looms over the town; red roof tiles, colorfully painted doorways, and peeling architecture add interest. We walked downtown, peeking inside the open windows and doors of local residences that revealed holy Christmas shrines, bedazzled and sparkly. Food smells lingered everywhere, like street chicken, charred to an earthy blackness.

We dined at a local place, eating steak with a chimichurri sauce. It was beyond delicious. All the while, we were serenaded by a parrot squawking and talking in the background of the restaurant. It was sultry hot, and Minnesota suddenly seemed very far away. Afterward, we strolled the colonial city streets, stopping at a grand cathedral where angelic voices sang Christmas songs in Spanish, the sound reverberating along the painted frescos of a high carved ceiling like we were sitting in Sydney, Australia’s onion-shaped opera house. We listened for a long beat.

A book contract hit my inbox last week for my manuscript Chorus of Crows! I have until Friday the 21st to make a big decision. Wish me luck! 

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“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.” ~ Confucius

 

“I don’t mind a mango falling on my head, but never a coconut.” Wisdom from Patrick, our intrepid snorkeling guide in Belize.

The above quote will be the title of my travel memoir if I decide to write one someday. The funny phrase embodies everything I love about travel in Central America, where the juiciest mangos lie under a tin roof full of decaying jungle leaves. The rest of the structure may have black plastic tarp curtains that flap in the wind, a mishmash of plywood tables, a dirt floor, and an overall vibe of impending collapse. But you’ve never tasted a better mango. You might find a great curassow (a bird that looks like a feathered dinosaur) strolling among the vegetables and fruit or a stray cat curled up amid an abundance of avocados. Certainly, you’re not in Kansas anymore when the local cops linger amongst the yucca and melons while drinking coconuts from a straw.

My favorite fruit vendor, Chico, knows when the papaya is ripe at the farmer’s market in Dominical, Costa Rica. He won’t sell you lousy fruit. Unless, of course, you want overripe bananas for banana bread. 

Too many years ago to count, I created my blog Sharon’s Souvenirs and posted travel photos, along with stories of my jungle adventures in Central America and beyond. The blog was good practice for the novels that would manifest someday because I eventually grew up and started writing books. My novel, The Levitation Game, was inspired by my adventures in Guatemala. Sharon’s Souvenirs trekked to a new spot when I created my author website. But my old blog remains.

Travel is my creative muse. It's my fuel.

So which jungle do we like best? Here are my top three beloved destinations in Central America:

3) Nicaragua has nineteen volcanoes; we explored almost all of them several years ago. At temperamental Volcan Masaya near Granada, we had to back our car into the parking spot in case we needed to make a quick getaway. Ometepe island on Lake Nicaragua resembles the Garden of Eden, except with two feisty conical volcanoes, Concepcion and Maderas, gaping at the heavens with their steamy caldera eyeball. You’ll find the beach where they filmed two seasons of Survivor in Nicaragua. The remote location is near the laid-back beach town called San Juan del Sur, where a towering statue of Jesus overlooks the city, like Rio de Janeiro. Nowadays, there’s political unrest, so research before booking a trip. But there is so much to love about Nicaragua. 

2) Go to Belize if you want to have fun. There’s more to do in Belize than any other country in Central America. Explore exotic Mayan ruins still digested by the jungle, teaming with wildlife, flora, and fauna. Enter mysterious caverns by canoe and see human skeletons while listening to stories about the underworld. Snorkel the islands and immerse yourself in an opaque cloud of harmless tiny jellyfish. Once, while snorkeling in Belize, a giant sea turtle almost bit me, but a wee bit of danger can be exciting! Plus, Belize has local Garifuna music and delicious food. 

1) Ah, Costa Rica. My favorite place. It’s beach Nirvana, named after its beautiful coastline. Explore all the tourist highlights, then go to Dominical and relax with the scarlet macaws and howler monkeys. You might never want to leave. In CR, there are sea caves that roar with thunderous waves, cone-shaped volcanoes, coffee-dotted mountains, and cloud forests with hummingbirds that fly by your head like a Top Gun movie. There are ziplines, hot springs, and eco-friendly resorts. Have I mentioned the unsurpassed beaches? There’s even a beach shaped like a whale’s tail. Sigh.

Visit my website and blog to view our Costa Rica, 2025 adventures! Stay tuned for Part 2 of this travel post when my next newsletter hits inboxes on Febuary 17th. I’ll give some fun travel tips and share my favorite memory in Central America. This post is an excerpt from an article I wrote for The Creator's Roulette. 

Adios!

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The Red Feather

"The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away." ~ Pablo Picasso

My mother hid my gifts every Christmas, but I always found them. I was like a truffle-hunting pig, rooting them from locked suitcases and dusty cupboards, foraging for them in the attic. “Open your palm,” said my husband.

I splayed my hand and squeezed my eyelids, figuring the gift might be heavy, like pottery or books, so I clenched my muscles. I felt a weightless tickle. “Okay. You can open your eyes.”

It was a red feather. My husband had done this with a strip of red licorice, a pretty rock or seashell, a chocolate kiss. “That’s not funny,” I said.

That night, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I pretended to be asleep.

The next day, I found the red feather in the utensil drawer. I grabbed a knife and slammed the drawer shut. Opening the fridge, I noticed a bowl of dirt—or sand beside the milk. My husband entered the kitchen with bare feet, yawned in the annoying way he does, like a tired dog, and hugged me from behind. I didn’t say anything about the fridge.

On Christmas Eve, I wrapped my husband’s presents and placed them under the tree: a goofy tie with clowns I found online, some matches from our favorite restaurant, and a new phone. I put charcoal in his stocking in case I received more feathers.

There was only one gift under the tree for me. I frowned and stood, adjusting a few ornaments that were hanging backward. I noticed a tacky plastic palm frond projecting from the middle branches. Usually, I would laugh. But the lack of gifts made me feel gloomy.

After a candlelight dinner, we opened gifts. I glanced at the stockings, then handed my husband his packages. He opened them and laughed, wrapping the tie around his head. I eyeballed my single package, then the stockings. “Your turn,” he said.

I grabbed the gift with a red feather taped to the top instead of a bow. My stomach constricted. I tore the foil away and ripped off the tape; the box indicated it was a re-gift. I opened the flaps, burrowing into the tissue paper. I discovered an empty coconut and a photo of a Scarlet Macaw.

“We’re going to Costa Rica!” he exclaimed.

I ran to the fireplace, tearing the stockings from the mantel. I threw my husband’s stocking into the fire.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! The best gift you can give me is a rave, rating, or review!

"I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver" ~ Maya Angelou

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"Everyone should have their mind blown once a day." ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson

 

"It may be that our cosmic curiosity... is a genetically-encoded force that we illuminate when we look up and wonder." ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson

Neil DeGrasse Tyson visited The Morning Show on CBS in October to discuss his new book about the universe. I’ve been a Neil DeGrasse Tyson fan since I saw him on the news for the first time when the universe was much younger. Since then, he’s written fifteen books, and with every T.V. appearance, his comical wit and vast cortex leave me with a slight nerd crush. He has an asteroid named after him and even a leaping frog. He was named the sexiest astrophysicist alive in 2000. You must have fallen into a black hole if you haven't heard of him. Me? I’m star-struck.

In his new book, a fictional Merlin explains the nuances of light, space, time, and gravity to the reader. Defying gravity is a core element of my book, The Levitation Game. My character, Dob-Dec, would love Neil deGrasse Tyson. Heck, Mr. Tyson might even be smarter than my alien character because even though Dob-Dec is smarter than most astrophysicists and much more adept at levitation, he is slightly dim-witted compared to his green brethren. Editor’s note: Females are smarter than males on planet Pleione. Duh.

But what inspired me to talk about Merlin’s Tour of the Universe today is the cover’s resemblance to mine. It’s my November book pick (see below), so you can see for yourself. There’s no tornado of toiletries, but we have definitive space portal swirl action. Neil deGrasse Tyson is infinitely smarter than me and perhaps a better writer, but he sure as heck didn’t illustrate his cover like I did. 

Happy Thanksgiving! 

“Do you realize that if you fall into a black hole, you will see the entire future of the Universe unfold in front of you in a matter of moments and you will emerge into another space-time created by the singularity of the black hole you just fell into?” ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson

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"There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.” ~ Neil Gaiman

 

My hand grazed the doorframe, sliding over the smooth stubble of the painted wall as I reached for the light switch, finding it and flipping it on, but only darkness greeted me. Had someone cut the power to the house?

I stepped into the room.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains over the kitchen sink, glinting over the dishes piled like a spoiled child’s toy box. Shame washed over me, but I didn’t dwell on the feeling. Instead, I stumbled towards the drawers opposite the sink and rummaged for my electric match lighter. I found it and passed into the dining room, pausing to let my eyes adjust to the dark.

Even though I hadn’t baked anything earlier, the room reeked of strange spices, like mugwort and incense. The rusty smell of blood floated below my nostrils. Sweat lingered in the stillness, and I sniffed my armpits. Someone had been here moments before, leaving an olfactory trail of something human or inhuman. Were they still in the house?

My stocking feet dusted the wood floor as I approached the dining table, dipping my hand deep into a bowl of jagged candy. I plucked a morsel and set my lighter on the table to unwrap it, plopping it onto my tongue and chewing aggressively like a ball player waiting for the mat. Laughter erupted from the living room, quieting to unholy giggles and whispers. Then silence.

I grabbed the lighter again, swallowed, and entered the next room. There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife. The hand lifted high above its shadowy frame, then dropped with lightning speed. I heard a tearing squelch as the knife repeatedly hit its target, over and over, before being pulled clean. The steel blade glistened in the light beaming through the side window, glowing from the neighbor’s porch. They had electricity, while my house sat in obscurity.

I lurched forward and raised my lighter as if it were a weapon. Several figures watched in the darkness, and I knew they were hungry. But for what?

I moved around the room with a swiftness that surprised me and lit the candles arranged in all corners like a witch's boudoir.

Beth set her flashlight aside and dropped to her knees, grabbing a knife. “That’s better. Thank goodness we can see what we’re doing. Do you know how long the power will be off?” she asked.

I shrugged.

Mary plucked the top off her pumpkin and reached inside to pull a trail of seeds and pulp, plopping the guts onto a newspaper lining the coffee table. “I brought chocolate chip pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting. Oh, and a pumpkin-spiced cabernet. Do you want a glass? I left it on the dining room table.”

“Sure,” I said.

Beth grabbed a small pumpkin and stabbed.

Rachel snuggled deeper into the sofa and took a sip from her goblet. “It’s really good, and I usually don’t like red wine,” she said, picking a pumpkin seed from her pants.

I was about to return to the dining room to pour myself a glass of red when the doorbell rang. I grabbed Beth’s flashlight before moving to the front door. The beam shone over three diminutive faces that smiled at me in the moonlight.

“Trick or Treat!” they all yelled with glee.

“Where there is no imagination, there is no horror.” ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

You can read my book for free on NetGalley this month.

Happy Halloween! 

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The Levitation Game is One Year Old Today. Hooray!

 

The Levitation Game launched on October 17, 2023. 

After my book baby’s roller-coaster year, I hope my book doesn’t experience the terrible twos. Launching a book is every mother’s dream, but it does involve screaming and, quite possibly, incontinence. Sometimes, I felt like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby; other times, I felt like Sally Field after winning her Oscar. "You like my book. You really like it!"

The tumultuous and mixed feelings are normal for every author and every book. Oh, and I'm pregnant again. It may take longer than nine months, but there's another book baby on the way!

You can never leave once you enter the novel writing theme park full of burnt corncobs, sweaty crowds, psychedelic mirrors, nausea inducing rides, and sickly-sweet cotton candy. You must keep writing, and the tickets are steep. The steel gate is locked and your fate is in the hands of a carnie rat. Do you see the grinning carousel animals from the Brothers Grimm? Can you hear the demented organ grinder music gnawing at your brain? Do you need a shot of Pepto Bismal after too many corn dogs? A writer must stay in the clown park, gnashing away forever and ever. But sometimes it's fun. 

“When the music stops, you’ll see him in the mirror standing behind you.” — April, “The Conjuring”

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