Normally I relish and gleefully roll in the muck of horror writing, but for several years I have had extreme and prolonged feelings about wildfires.  I live in the west of America so they are now a fact of life more than any other time, which is saying a lot because I have lived here my whole life and my dad was born here in 1938.

I am not going to lie, it was hard to put the first word on the page.  But once I did that things started gushing out of me like an abscess.  It won't ever completely make me feel better but it has reminded me of the fond memories I have of smoke such as campfires and cooking.  Once the smell of smoke only meant someone was barbecuing something tasty, not impending death and destruction.  

Thank you for sharing this journey with me and stay safe.  

The Lady Rogue