Katherine Taulman Vaughan


Hello readers and welcome to my first Blog! So glad you’ve joined me.

I probably should explain my Blog title. Mombo is my grandmother name and was created when my son was a high-school hellion in Montana. Whenever he got in trouble, he’d call from some clandestine place and try to soften me up with, “Mom-bo, what’s up? Are ya busy?” That was code for, “could you come pick me up from 1.

Principal’s office 2. Jail 3. Mechanic 4. Job just fired from.”

Now that you understand the origins of Musings, I thought it might be interesting to offer some background on Raine’s journey, assuming you’ve met her already. If not, find her on the links below.

I am a humor writer and find laughter in most things. Some years ago, I spent a large amount of time in my mother’s assisted living home in Atlanta. There, I found much fodder for a light, bright story. My friends encouraged me, so I began a book with the first scene around a Bridge table. I thought it was brilliant, naturally, but two things happened that changed my direction.

First, my mother had tended a small garden outside of the memory-care unit at her home. She even enlisted the help of George, her devoted garden helper. He dug and moved some bulbs and rhizomes from the garden at her house, and her new garden came alive. In summer there were zinnas, in fall there were dahlias, and then spring introduced her prized peonies and iris. It was so sweet to watch the patients totter about the tiny space and watch their expressions change from confusion to joy.
One day we were told that the garden was to be demolished due to major construction for expansion. Momma crumbled and I offered to fight the bureaucracy, but she put on her co-dependent helmet and forbid my interference. I watched her spark fade away.

Soon afterward, my younger sister was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s at fifty-five. As I watched our family battle frustration and grief, any hope of a humorous tale evaporated.

When my sister died about seven years later, Raine was born. Now, let me assure you we didn’t have any trafficking or psycho-husbands involved. That’s where the muse moved into high gear and took off, writing itself. I just hung on and watched the path we took. But when sex trafficking continued to make the news and I dug into it, I changed the ending of my story about three times. No more hints!

This is my first work of fiction, and yes, I know, I don’t write like many authors. Let me explain why. I have a short attention span (ADHD) and want to get to the meat fast. Thus, I’m not a literary writer, who can craft gorgeous sentences and create visions of the sublime that pricks the reader’s consciousness, etc. Nope, I’m a commercial writer who just wants to entertain you with a story I concocted.

And that’s not all, folks. If you can’t read or prefer to eat while you don’t read, LISTEN! I am recording my manuscript in May, and it will be available for your audio pleasure. I see no reason to let a robot or celebrity read my story. So, here I come! Who else can give the proper voice inflections, laughter, sadness and yes, a brief song (yikes)? Only the author knows the pain and payoff that falls within the pages. So, get ready.

And that’s not all. I just finished the screenplay with my collaborator who is also a director and award-winning cinematographer. No, I’ve never written a script before, but what a treat. It’s hard, however, to move from using words to using camera shots. But let me tell you, the movie is captivating. It’s what caused me to rewrite the book’s ending so many times. Will keep you informed as this process plays out.

Thanks for joining me and until next time, Vaya con Dios!