How Are You Handling This? (Because I’m Having a Little Trouble With It)

I read something recently that cracked something open in me.

It was fierce and honest and aching. A raw outpouring from artist Mary Engelbreit about the cruelty we’ve witnessed in recent years, the kind that doesn’t just harm bodies and rights, but wrecks relationships, rewrites truth, and shatters the fragile trust we once had in neighbors, friends, even family. The kind of cruelty that slithers out from under a rock and doesn’t even bother to hide anymore.

She asked a question at the end:
“How are you handling this? Because I’m having a little trouble with it.”

And I thought … Me too.

Me too, Mary.
Me too, everyone who’s lost sleep, or lost a friend, or lost faith in the goodness of the people around them.
Me too, if you’ve ever felt like you’re screaming into the void while the world shrugs and scrolls on.

The truth is, we are living in a time where decency has to be defended out loud, again and again.
Where lies wear suits and smile on TV.
Where cruelty isn’t just tolerated, it’s rewarded. Celebrated.

And it’s exhausting.
It’s disorienting.
It’s enough to make even the most hopeful among us spiral.

But here’s what I’m holding onto, and maybe it will help you too:

We are not powerless.

We can’t undo the harm that’s been done, but we can name it. We can refuse to normalize it. We can stand in small circles of care and say, Not here. Not on my watch.

We can tell the truth in storybook form. We can whisper wisdom to children and slip hope into their hands disguised as picture books and printable adventures. We can light tiny fires in the darkness and say, this is what love looks like. This is how we rise.

So if you’re having a little trouble handling all this too...
If you’re weary, or angry, or heartsick,
Come sit by me for a while.

I wrote some books for moments like this.
Not political books.
Not protest signs.
But soft places to land.
Stories that remind us who we are, what matters, and why we keep going.

🌿 Frances the Firefly – for anyone who believes that wild things deserve to stay free.
🪶 Calvin and the Coyote – for the ones who carry memory like a lantern through the dark.
🦝 The Dirty, Stinkin’, Rotten Raccoon – for every misunderstood soul who just needs someone to look a little closer.

These books aren’t solutions, but they are something.
A hand held out.
A little light left on.
A story that says: I see you. You’re not alone.

And neither am I.

Okay, but JUST ONE (Present… or Firefly, Coyote, or One Dirty, Rotten, Stinkin’ Raccoon)

I’ve always been the kind of person who says, “Let’s just open one present.” You know, just a tiny peek, just one little ribbon tugged loose on Christmas Eve. And okay, maybe one turns into two… and then suddenly the tree is looking suspiciously empty by morning. Oops.

It’s not really about the presents. It’s about the joy. I love joy. I love the part where someone’s eyes light up and say, “No way, really?” I want to pass that kind of feeling around like cookies at a party. I want to share it.

And lately? The joy has been showing up as stories.

Writing these books has flipped my “just one present” impulse into full-blown overdrive. First came Frances the Firefly, a soft, glowing story that still makes my heart flutter. Then Calvin and the Coyote, full of feathers, firelight, and memory. It feels like handing over little pieces of a shared past.

But now… there’s this dirty, stinkin’, rotten raccoon lurking in the corners of my imagination. And I can’t lie, I want to tell you everything. I want to show you the kid with the firefly t-shirt, the mayor with the oversized hairdo, and the raccoon who may or may not be misunderstood…

And his friend.

Because yes, he has one. A young crow who’s always stirring the pot: clever, quick, and never far when something funny (or slightly chaotic) happens.
And if you’re thinking, hmmm… a firefly? a crow?, then congratulations. You’re already spotting the easter eggs. I know, I’m no Taylor Swift, but she’s onto something. If I start naming chapters after my exes, you’ll know I’ve gone full Swift.

But I can’t share it all just yet.

If I go all-in on the raccoon right now, I risk overshadowing Frances and Calvin, who are still out there finding their readers. They deserve their moment in the sun.
If you haven’t read those yet, I hope you will. And if they land somewhere soft inside you, I’d be so grateful if you’d share them or leave a review. I know, I know… everyone asks. But here’s the truth: these stories matter to me, and they can’t travel far on their own. I’m one person with a full heart and a very small megaphone, trying to help them find their people. Maybe even yours.

That said… the raccoon is coming. And the countdown is officially on.

If you have kids (or grandkids) who love a little summer caper, or if you just need a 20-minute break when the “I’m bored” chorus begins this summer, head to Firefly & Fog and check the Books section. You’ll find a “Wanted” poster for one dirty, stinkin’, rotten raccoon. He’s been spotted. He’s up to something. And this spring, I’ll be sharing free printable activity pages to help track him down and build the excitement.

Think: raccoon sightings, silly name generators, coloring pages, reading trackers… all with a mischievous twist. It’s a sneaky little way to keep kids reading, drawing, imagining, and maybe even giggling while they wait for the full story.

More fun printables will follow the book’s release, but for now, let the springtime sleuthing (and silliness) begin.

Frances and Calvin still have their time to shine, and I’m so proud of them both.
But I’ll admit… I’m keeping one eye on the woods.
There’s rustling out there.
And maybe a feather, too.

P.S. If you know a kid, a parent, a grandparent, a teacher, or a curious grown-up who still believes in mischief and magic, I’d love for you to share this with them. Word of mouth means the world. And if you’d like first dibs on printables, peeks, and maybe a riddle or two, signing up is easy — and full of sparkle.
As always, I love you, I appreciate you, and I thank you.