
I’ve always been one of those people who’s trying to get more done, looking for ways to be more efficient so I can do more in the same amount of time. I even taught a time management class for writers for over ten years, sharing everything I learned so people could try new ways to get more writing done. It worked delightfully well for me for years.
Until it didn’t.
Stress and burnout and perimenopause collided a few years ago, and it felt like I got hit by a train. I struggled to get writing work done while I tried to realign my health. Now on a good day, I’m working for 4-6 hours (down from 10-14 five years ago); a bad day might give me 30 minutes. It can be depressing, and that adds to the stress, which messes with my hormones, which clouds my brain even more.
But I’m still the same Kitty, wanting to share what I learn so that I can help others. So I’m writing two nonfiction books right now. One is on perimenopause and menopause for writers. I’m taking everything I’ve learned and all my resources and compiling it all, aimed at writers. I’d love to add more stories from other women writers who have gone through mental and physical health issues, especially related to menopause. Please contact me if you’d like to share your story (kitty at kittybucholtz dot com, and put “Menopause for Writers” in the subject line).
The other book is called Going the Distance: Time and Project Management for Writers. I’ve taken ten years’ worth of my lectures and broken them down into the core elements, and then I’m updating all of the material as well as adding new tips. I’ll start blogging about it soon, but I just finished the outline and I wanted to share it with you.
The 10-chapter book will include the following topics:
If this sounds interesting and helpful to you, let me know! In my post here in December, I’ll start sharing some of my tips and ideas so you can plan for a good writing year in 2026. It’ll be worth it!
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At the chiming of eleven bells, the retreat’s evening session began. Squeezed around the table, six people scooted chairs until no one brushed up against anyone else. The room’s reddish glow came from a candelabra on a nearby shelf, and the air hung thick with cedar incense.

Jana coughed into her hand and took side glances at the five others. Duvan, whose laughter burst out at the oddest moments; Metrie, whose face was as pale as the ivory cloth that covered the table; Tartas, who kept shifting among her multiple forms so that Jana wasn’t exactly sure who she was at any moment, and two others, whose names and peculiarities she couldn’t recall.
“This meeting, on Allhallows Eve, marks the time of year when we can at last show our true faces,” Metrie intoned, her voice just above a whisper. Somewhere in the darkened room came the slow ticking of a clock. “Place both your hands on the table, and please remain silent.”
Palms down, Jana let her gaze rove, careful not to engage with anyone. She had heard that one of the five—four, if she didn’t count Metrie, the leader—was a transformed cryptid. More precisely, the Pocono Polecat. Research had pointed her to this Pennsylvania gathering, on this night, when transformers slipped however briefly into their original shape.
A tiny camera, attached as a bead to her necklace, would capture the change when it happened. She hoped. Then she’d have the proof needed for the article she was writing for The Cryptozoologist.
Metrie recited a prayer in an ancient language filled with hard glottal stops and velar clicks. A breath exhaled through the room, bringing with it a rank smell that wrinkled Jana’s nose.
Polecat.
The seat where the black-haired woman wrapped in a white shawl had been sitting was now filled with a human-sized black-furred mammal, a thin white stripe down its nose. It laid its two long, sharp claws on the table.
“Welcome, Shkak,” Metrie said, in English. Duvan exploded in laughter, and Tartas blinked through three form changes in as many seconds. The sixth person at the table, the one with close-cropped hair the color of burnt leaves, collapsed off their chair with a moan.
Jana felt her necklace, rubbing a finger next to the embedded camera, hoping it had recorded what she needed. In response, Shkak bared her teeth at Jana, who gasped. The stomach-turning stench overwhelmed the smoke of the cedar incense.
“You’re real,” Jana croaked, trying and failing to hold her breath. Duvan and Tartas fled the room.
“Of course, she’s real,” Metrie scoffed. She held a lace handkerchief over her nose. “Be careful what you ask for.”
A low-pitched rumble vibrated the table as Shkak stared at Jana. It had to be a growl. The polecat’s claws tore through the table covering, making long slashes.
Covering her mouth and nose with her hands, Jana dropped her gaze. “I’m so glad to meet you … as yourself.” Taking a breath and holding it, she dug out her cell phone, opened her camera app, and turned to Metrie. “Can you snap a photo of the two of us?”
Shkak rose to her full height.
Metrie smiled and put her hand out to take the phone. “Be glad to.” She added, “You do realize that polecats are omnivores, not herbivores, right?”

Hitler loved the circus.
According to classified reports uncovered after the war, the Fuehrer would sit in the front row of the circus and cheer on the performers he perceived to be ‘working class folks’ putting their lives on the line.
He loved the ‘woman in danger’ element in the acts, as my heroine Lia di Montieri discovers when she appears in a circus in Germany in the 1930s. I shan’t spoil the surprise, but we follow Lia’s career, her heartbreak over losing her baby, and how she makes a daring leap to join the Resistance to save Jewish children.
I’ve always been fascinated by circuses since I was a little girl. Especially the trapeze. We had a swing set in the backyard when I was growing up and I’d try every crazy trick I could think of, pretending I was flying under the big top, that I was ‘an angel without wings’ until one day the swing broke. Then we moved. As we did a lot in those days.
And so ended my circus dreams.
Finally, I can fly again! In my Boldwood Books upcoming WW2 novel about Occupied Paris and the circus.
‘The Stolen Children of War’ is…
The heartbreaking story of Lia di Montieri, Queen of the Flying Trapeze, who loses her own baby and risks her life to save innocent children from the Gestapo.
An adorable baby elephant named Bebe.
And lurking in the background is a serial killer preying on circus queens who threatens to destory what Lia holds most dear.
I wanted to write a story about circuses with a twist — there’s danger under the big top at every performance… lions, tigers… knife throwers… high wire walkers, trapeze artistes flying 100 mph from the flybar to the catcher, but what if there was also a killer watching their every move, ready to strike?
You’ll find all that and more at Le Cirque Casini!
It’s a psycological thriller with a mad doctor serial killer, beautiful circus queens in danger, heroes willing to die to protect them, baby animal ‘cuteness’, and ‘stolen children’ who will steal your heart.
Step right up, ladies and gents, and let’s go to the circus!
Now on NetGalley for all you book bloggers and reviewers.


I’ve told you before that I’ve been struggling the last several years with my creativity. Most of it seems to be a result of changes in my hormones during perimenopause and menopause. But before that I realized I’d gotten pretty deeply mired in burnout. Slowly, my creativity has been coming back, ideas have begun to flow again, and this past month I’ve been plotting away on my next superhero book. Yay!
The ”how” is partially from balancing my hormones with hormone replacement therapy (HRT) and partially from several small things that have made a big difference. I got a scholarship to attend Author Nation last year, and it really helped energize me. There I met and decided to have a weekly check-in with some writer friends who are “more like me.” (I’m not going to try to explain the specifics; when you’re with people who get you and to whom you don’t have to explain your thinking, it’s so freeing! It really helped open the valve on my joy and creativity.)

That led to me backing a Kickstarter by Johnny B. Truant a couple months ago. He wrote a book called The Artisan Author: The Low-Stress, High-Quality, Fan-Focused Approach to Escaping the Publishing Rat Race based on the class he taught at Author Nation last year. (Release date November 4, 2025 – look for it!) I decided to back the level that included a 10-week college-style class based on the book. We’re just a month in and I’ve already met so many more authors who feel like I do – like, I started writing, and particularly self-publishing, so I could write my way. Then, in trying to learn how to sell books, I got caught up in all the reasons I “needed” to change this or that so that my perfect readers could find me on Amazon and other vendor sites.
I wrote a more detailed post on Substack if you’re interested. I talk about self-publishing and using your voice and standing up for others. Here is the ending to that post. I hope it gives you something to think about. It’s worth it.
0 0 Read moreYOU have more power than you realize. That’s the actual tagline. So let me encourage you to use your words. Use your power. Even if you believe the exact opposite of me, use your words. A world that becomes more and more homogenized becomes more and more unsafe for “the other.” Love isn’t just for the people like you. To Love means to take care of the widow and the orphan, the illegal immigrant and the transgendered neighbor, the politician and the farmer.
That’s how Love becomes the answer.
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