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Happy New Year! I once heard that the way you spend New Year’s Day lets the universe know how you want to spend your entire year. For me, that meant hanging out with family and furbabies, writing, and zero laundry. Of course my day would not be complete without reading! With a cup of steaming coffee and a comfy soft blanket, I curled up in my favorite chair and got lost in the pages of A Time Traveler’s Theory of Relativity by Nicole Valentine.  The story starts out with twelve year old Finn wondering why his mother disappeared without a trace or explanation and quickly turns into a fabulous and well-written story of time traveling mysteries and secrets. With each chapter there are new layers to unfold: questions about changing history, sorting through feelings of grief, wondering who to trust, and understanding bonds of family and friendship. I loved all of the twists and turns, each one bringing the best kind of surprise and anticipation a reader hopes for in this type of story. A Time Traveler’s Theory of Relativity is an exciting, sincere, and fast-paced tale your entire family will enjoy. I look forward to future books from this author!  He believes in science, but only magic can help his mom. Twelve-year-old Finn is used to people in his family disappearing. His twin sister, Faith, drowned when they were three years old. A few months ago, his mom abandoned him and his dad with no explanation. Finn clings to the concrete facts in his physics books—and to his best friend, Gabi—to ward off his sadness. But then his grandmother tells him a secret: the women in their family are Travelers, able to move back and forth in time. Finn’s mom is trapped somewhere in the timeline, and she’s left Finn a portal to find her. But to succeed, he’ll have to put his trust in something bigger than logic.
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Hello and Happy Tuesday! If you follow me on social media or subscribe to my newsletter, you may already know I have big news that has nothing to do with kittens or cats (or thankfully mice.) Shocking, I know! While I may have been a bit feline obsessed lately, I've also been busy writing. And today, I'm here to share some exciting writing news! But first an apology, because I know it's been FOREVER since I've published a new book (or at least a few years.) I promise that I've been writing. A lot. Well... I'm excited to tell you that my latest story, tentatively titled BACKYARD BOYS will be published by Lerner Publishing/Kar-Ben, slated for 2021/2022 with pre-publication acceptance into the PJ Library's PJ Our Way program. It's still a bit of a wait, but (IMO) it's worth it. So what is BACKYARD BOYS? Here's a sneak peek at a brief summary as well as a graphic I put together for inspiration while writing: Certain a recent kidnapping is linked to an old Bermuda Triangle alien theory, 11 year old Danny, the only Jewish boy in his town in 1978, tries to prove his hairy-handed piano teacher is involved. But he not only has to fight UFOs, he also has to fight anti-Semitism.  A couple of months ago, this popped up in my Facebook memories. It was the first time I mustered up the courage to send my work to an agent in hopes of securing representation for publication.  Nine years ago. It was for my book, Nate Rocks the World. So many of my friends and family cheered me on. Because the former accountant in me still loves spreadsheets, I can tell you I sent it to 85 agents. They all politely declined. I decided to create my own imprint and published it myself. I’m grateful for the love Nate received from readers and reviewers. It even won a few Indie awards. Over the next nine years I went on to write twelve more children's books and seven adult books. Some I queried with agents, some I didn’t. Some I published, some remain on my hard-drive. Along the way there have been plenty of rejections (according to my trusty spreadsheet, nearly 300 over nine years.) But there also have been many wonderful celebrations and a community of amazing readers and friends. The sign below hangs in my office and has always been my mantra. Persistence pays off my friends, don’t give up on your dreams.  Xo, Karen Hello! Pardon me while I dust off the old blog here... again. You all know I love animals, right? I've spent much of my time this spring, summer, and fall fostering cats and kittens, several of whom needed medical care, in hopes of getting them ready for adoption into their forever homes. In fact, I'm currently housing a family of five - a sweet mama and her four babies - all with sneezy upper respiratory infections, but who are getting healthier each day.  My sweet sneezy foster family It's just that I believe some animals should be in the house, and some should be outside of the house. Specifically, I'm speaking about mice. More specifically, I'm speaking about the mouse that's in my BEDROOM at the moment. In light of my unwelcome guest, I thought I'd share a flashback blog post from February 19, 2017, because sadly, this isn't the first time this has happened. **** I Am Woman Hear Me ... Eep Sunday, February 19, 2017 Once upon a time there was a woman brave and strong. She thought she'd been through it all, surviving everything from health issues (I am a warrior), relationship failures (Oh the Internet dating disaster stories I could tell), financial stuff (That costs how much?), teen drama (Does this ever go away?), wasp infestation (I'm a pro at killing those suckers), and the list goes on. She (did I say I? Oh, okay, fine) was infallible … until one night, last night in fact, an itty bitty, teensy, weensy, furry little mouse ran across her bedroom floor at 11:00pm. I know!! Here's what happened. I was peacefully lying in bed, almost asleep, when I heard growling and hissing coming from my two cats. Expecting to see them fighting over a toy, I turned on the light to shush them, but instead screamed bloody murder at the sight of a little mouse scurrying across my floor. Somehow my 10 year old in the next room slept through this! "Get it!" I yelled to my cats. I had no doubt "Frick and Frack", protectors of the freshly folded clean laundry, would be on the case. Look at them, they're fierce!  I know what you're thinking. I should have tried to catch the poor little guy (or gal), so I could set it free. I love animals and all, but, are you kidding? I was thinking more along the lines of burning my house down. Okay so maybe not -- that's a little extreme, crazy, and illegal - plus I need a place to live and there's the hassle of replacing all my stuff. Instead I decided to quickly and quietly sprint down the stairs to my living room in order to allow my cats the privacy to do what they're supposed to do. Yeah, sure, that's why I left. I sat on my couch - reduced to a trembling ball of nerves wrapped in a blanket - and watched the 11:00 news (which stressed me out even more) as I listened to a ton of pitter-pattering overhead. And then ... silence. Did they get it? Was it gone? Could I reclaim my bedroom? Be brave woman! I crept back upstairs, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders like a super-hero's cape and peeked through my doorway. One cat was under the bed while the other paced in a stalking-like manner. Ugh! Then, I did the unthinkable. I got into bed! It was midnight, and I had given myself a "Are you really going to let this tiny thing that's probably more afraid of you, rule your roost?" pep talk. "Besides," I continued, "it's quiet in here. It's probably dead by now anyway." It sounded good until I heard the cats start growling again. I pulled the sheets up over my head and tried to think of happy things like my kids, and daisies, and a fresh canister of Pringles. At some point it got quiet and I nodded off, but then the chasing resumed. This was my night: a constant stream of growls, quiet, sleep, and commotion, that was light on the sleep and heavy on the commotion. But I was too tired and annoyed to get up and move to the couch. Then, at around 5:00am a cat jumped on the bed. WHAT? Please don't let there be a mouse in my bed, I prayed. I cautiously looked around while he made himself comfortable. No mouse. A moment later cat number two jumped on the bed, also mouseless. They both curled up and went to sleep. "Wait - that's it? You're giving up?" I demanded. "Or does this mean you caught it? And if so where is it? Why are you two just lying there sleeping? Why can't you tell me what's going on? " And so, I did what any sane(?) person would do in this situation at 5:00 on a Sunday morning. I got up and made coffee. And my Frick and Frack, worn out from a night of hunting haven't moved since. As for the mouse, it's still a big mystery.  **** Happy Monday!
xo, Karen Hi all – It’s hard to believe but today is my FINAL Foster Kitten Friday post!! My sweet jellybeans are all off in the big world to continue their exciting lives. To those of you who have sent me messages of encouragement each week, THANK YOU! Your support has meant everything. Here are some of the things I’ve learned from this wonderful experience: 1. I really love cats. Okay, I already knew that one... moving on. 2. Not all cats love me. I was fortunate to have the mama cat with me because bottle-feeding neonates round the clock is EXHAUSTING and I only did it for one night before the mama cat came back looking for her babies. Luckily, the rescue was able to trap her and reunite her with us and even luckier is that she immediately started nursing her babies. I named her Chloe and in my mind we would be besties. In her mind, I was the prison guard who kept her inside 24/7. Despite my attempts to woo her with food, treats, and even the occasional pet on the head, she let me know on a daily basis with her growls and hisses I was not her friend. But she never tried to hurt me, and she let me take care of her babies - as long as I did it quickly. For that I’m grateful.  3. Neonate kittens are FRAGILE beings. We got hit with so many (way too many) kitten ailments that I was not emotionally equipped to handle. At least not at first, because let's face it, even though I was “foster” mom, I was attached to these little jellybeans from the moment the rescue handed them over to my care. My weekly blog posts talk about some of our struggles, so I won’t rehash them here, but I will say, I was told more than once that a kitten (or two) may not make it, and I’m happy (THRILLED) to say they are all healthy and strong fighters!  4. I put more effort into trying to get the kittens adopted then I did in trying to market my books. It’s true. My oldest son pointed this out. There’s definitely some behind the scenes psychology going on here that will get its own blog post, but for now, all I can say is "Buy My Books" (happy son?) ... here’s the link to my Amazon page, but if you can shop local, please do! Also – thank you to everyone who adopts a furry friend of any age from a shelter or rescue! Or to anyone who is involved in the TNR program. You’re a hero!  Shameless Non-Cat Plug... 5. Back to cats ... Speaking of adoption, saying goodbye is hard. Yes, I cried. It was a mixture of happy and sad tears. Avery, Teddi, and Jamie all went to live with friends. Teddi and Jamie went together. I can’t begin to express how happy it makes me to have my friends welcome these sweeties into their homes. As for Parker, the rescue didn’t want him to be alone, so they placed him with two other kittens in the pet store, Ping and Pong (so cute right?) while they tried to find the purr-fect family for them all. I went to visit him a few days ago because it happened so fast, and I didn’t really get to say goodbye. He was having so much fun playing, he barely noticed I was there. There were also SO many people around giving him love and attention and last I heard there were five adoption applications submitted. My heart is full. Here are some of my last minute cuddles and good-bye pictures: And some pictures of Avery and Jamie and Teddi (now Hyde and Jackie) in their new homes: 6. So .. Will I do it again? Let’s just say the “kitten room” is ready and waiting. Also – if you are able, please consider fostering with a shelter or rescue in your area. I hope you all have a great weekend! Xo, Karen Hi all! Let me first apologize because I do not have a ton of pictures from this week … or hardly any ... because WE HAD A CRAZY WEEK, and this foster mom decided that trying to maintain some sanity was more important than taking pictures. Why was it so crazy, you ask? I’ll get to that, but first two exciting things: 1. Avery was adopted! She’s still with me at the moment, but will be off to live with her forever family very soon! YAY AVERY!!  Also – 2. In non-foster news, this guy turned 8 years old!  Now back to the crazy week: It started with all four kittens having their spay/neuter surgeries. I knew having four post-op kittens to care for would be a handful. I was prepared for that part. What I wasn’t prepared for … what nobody told me … Well, here’s what happened: |
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