About six weeks back, my stone mason pal and I installed a creekside patio on a previously undisturbed area of land. My first task was to dig out a large pathway. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t be a problem, but this soil was unique, in that it was chock-a-block full of grapefruit-sized rocks, so whenever I drove my shovel in the dirt, it slammed straight into a rock (CHING!), sending up a shower of sparks. After several of these attempts, I got tired of the nails-on-a-chalkboard, chills-up-my-spine effect, abandoned the shovel, and proceeded to dig out the entire area with a pickaxe.

Every couple of hours, the homeowner came down from the house to chat with us, and as she watched my pile of extricated rocks grow into a small mountain, she apologized profusely for the condition of her land. I told her it was fine – it was my job, plus I was gaining muscle and getting a good cardio workout – and we all had a good laugh. By the end of the day, she’d given me a new nickname. I was no longer Kelly; I was Digger.

A week later, the patio was complete.

Nice, huh? Let me know if you need any rock work done. 😉

By that time, we’d become friendly with the homeowner, and I’d told her about Aret, my soon-to-be-published fantasy novel about dragons. She said she wasn’t a fan of fantasy, but her spouse was, so I gave her one of my business cards before leaving on our last day.

That was also the day an enormous dragonfly paid me a visit.

Last week, I received an email from the homeowner, who let me know that she and her spouse read and loved Aret, and I’ve converted her into a fantasy reader. She said they can’t wait for book two and concluded the message with this sentiment:

“More writing!!!! Less digging!!!!”

And that, friends, is my new battle cry.

[P.S. – When I told the stone mason about this, she replied, “Well we are all awaiting book 2, but I’m sure digging is inspirational.”] 😄