My book, Putting the Fun in Funeral, came out earlier this month. It’s one I enjoyed writing quite a bit. It made me laugh a lot. That was a relief, at the time of writing. I used the novel as an escape. Dealing with politics, the schisms in our society, the horrors of various manmade and natural disasters, and on top of that . . . teenagers. I needed a place to hide out where I could have fun and not think about reality.

That said, Putting the Fun in Funeral has a dark side. I’ve got a morbid sense of humor, and I that definitely comes out. I got to thinking about the dark elements in the past couple of weeks, and I had a bit of a realization. In this book, as in many of my books, there’s a lot of hardship and some terrible people who do terrible things. Those terrible things are truly awful. Heinous.

A lot of the dark stuff happened before the book starts. It’s what makes Beck who she is and the girls who they are. I needed that dark stuff to be there, but I didn’t want it on the page. I didn’t want to have to wallow in it. I just wanted the reader aware of what Beck has fought against in her life. I wanted the focus to be on the relationships, on dealing with the aftermath, on not only surviving, but triumphing.

I’ve had a review or two (I try not to read reviews, but couldn’t help myself because I love this book so much) where people have said that I don’t show enough of Beck’s scars, of the PTSD she must surely have.

I got to thinking about why that might be and my conclusion is that I wanted to write this where part of the fantasy of the book is saying that you can escape the scars and the evil, that you can overcome those things, that evil can be put behind you. Yes, it leaves a stain and I’m not trying to suggest it doesn’t. We all know it does and we all know you don’t just “get over it.” But I really wanted to show someone moving on with strength and determination, with a feeling that she can get past it and live a great life.

I wanted her to triumph over her enemies by taking back her life and living it with joy. I wanted a story where the effects of the bad can be fixed. I think that’s something we hope for in today’s world, even if we know it’s not so easy a thing to accomplish. That’s the fantasy. That’s my sort of happily ever after.

Read the first chapter here.

Today is the release of Putting the Fun in Funeral, book 1 of my Everyday Disasters series. Click the link to read the first chapter.

I love this book. I had such a good time writing it. I let things happen that I worried wouldn’t fly, and yet they made the story so much better. I have unexpected twists, and a fun group of girlfriends, a mysterious handsome sorcerer, and a murder, a curse, a kidnapping, and best of all, a dog rescue. If I had to say what makes this book special to me, it would be the relationships between everybody. They feel so real to me, and so strong. There’s more to Beck’s story, and in time I want to get to Stacey, Jen, and Lorraine.

I wanted to tell a story where good can conquer evil; where evil, even when it’s strong, can be overcome by good people working together. I also want to tell a story of someone going through a hard time and coming out the other side. Maybe there are a few cracks and chips, but she’s whole and optimistic. I wanted to tell a story with romance and with a happy ending.  I wanted something with a lot of humor, even though there’s darkness in it. I wanted a story of hope.

I can’t begin to say how much I want all my fans and everybody else to read this book. To pass it along. To want to talk about it. I just adore it.

Finally, I’ve got two words for you. Two words to tantalize: banana buddha.

And then a snippet:

I was a little surprised she wanted me dead. She’d spend my whole life controlling me and making me suffer. So why was *name redacted* so certain I was dying? Had mom fucked up her curse? Maybe she didn’t know shit about magic either. Or maybe it was me. I’d never let her know I could do magic. I’d done all I could to keep it a secret from her. I’d probably made it go haywire somehow. Plus, I’m pretty sure if Mommy Dearest had wanted me dead, she’d have found a horribly painful method, not death by coma.

Okay, then. She probably hadn’t wanted me to die, but she’d accidentally sent me on the way to my coffin anyhow. She’d cursed me without knowing I could do magic and that could have caused a bad reaction. Sorry, Doctor Witch. I had a bad reaction to the curse. I’m allergic. Note that on my chart, would you? Can we try a different one? Maybe get me an anticursetamine? Benadrylahex? Benakillacurse? Calacurse lotion?

I had occasion to attend a portion of a murder trial a couple months ago. My husband had to testify, called by the prosecution. More on that later.

A man was on trial for murdering his estranged wife on February 14, 2017. I remember that date because my husband had his wisdom teeth out that day, and we got the news the next morning just before I headed out for the Rainforest Writers Village, a writing retreat.

Why did we get the news? The accused (now convicted), named Jason, was a former coworker of my husband’s and they’d been talking about his situation over the previous months. Jason was in the middle of a bitter divorce with two young children in the middle (both under 10, I believe). He was frequently upset with his wife who he claimed was abusing the kids. He talked to my husband fairly regularly about it. My husband told him to document everything, and to work with the police and his lawyer. Jason claimed that her parents were willing to testify on his behalf in a custodial hearing, and he claimed that his wife’s boyfriend’s ex-wife was also concerned that Sparky (the murder victim) was abusing her kid and was talking to the police.

So we were feeling pretty sympathetic to his situation, given this information.

And then he killed her. Read the rest of this entry »