Layce Gardner's Blog

No, I don’t. I hate chickens. Live chickens, I mean. I like to eat dead chickens. But I don’t like live chickens at all. I think it comes from growing up on a farm. There were lots of chickens. And like most farm kids, I went barefoot all summer. Chickens—in case you didn’t know—love to chase little girls and peck their toes.

Also, chicken poop is the worst-smelling poop in the universe. Especially if you step in barefoot.

I once made the grave mistake of telling my mother that I hated chicke...

Woo-Hoo! We have a new book out! Sarah’s lover was just released yesterday. This book has a whole lot of everything: Romance, Sex, Lesbians, and even Ghosts! It’s the perfect antidote for those summertime blues!

I was a precocious little kid. My mother says I was born able to read. I honestly can’t remember a time when I couldn’t read. The only bad thing about being able to read at an early age is that you can read words that you don’t know the meaning of. You can pronounce the words, but you lack the ability to discern whether or not you should say them. Out loud. In public.

Case in point: I was three-years-old. My mom stopped the car at a gas station because I had to go to the bathroom. She walked...

I live in a small town. It’s famous for being the birthplace and final resting place of Mr. Ed, the talking horse. He’s buried on private property so I couldn’t get you a picture of his grave. You’ll just have to trust me on that one.

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Oooh, Wilbur!

This small town is also the home of the best pizza in these parts. The pizza is served up at Sam and Ella’s. You have to say that name out loud to get the full effect. There used to be a Mexican restaurant next door to it named E. Coli’s.  (You ca...

Saxon, Emma and I went to New York City over Christmas vacation. We accomplished almost everything on our to-do list. We mastered the subway system, visited Central Park and China Town and the East Village, admired the windows on 5th Avenue, visited the Guggenheim, MoMA, The Museum of Natural History, and saw three Broadway plays—The Phantom of the Opera, Kinky Boots, and Wicked. (I put a photo album on my Facebook page if you’d like to take a look.)

I have to say that Kinky Boots is now my n...

I’ve kept my mouth shut way too long. I need to speak up. When I was voting for Hillary – my god! what a proud moment that was – I look over to my right and see a woman sitting next to me at the table. We had these cardboard partitions sitting on the table top, supposedly to keep us from seeing each other’s ballot. They were only a pretense at privacy because I could see her ballot plain as day.

Standing behind the woman was a man. Her husband or her boyfriend or whatever. She was sitting in...

There’s not a lot to do in this small town. Walmart is the epicenter of our social hub. When I’m lonely, I go to Walmart. When I’m bored, I go to Walmart. When I want gossip, I go to Walmart. When I need groceries, I go to Walmart. You get the idea. I go to Walmart a lot.

Every time I go to Walmart, I see somebody I know. This is both good and bad. Good because you get to catch up on neighbor’s and friend’s lives without actually having them come over to your house. That would mean cleaning m...

I was 14 years-old when the sitcom Barney Miller first aired. I loved that show. I thought it was hilarious. My favorite character was Officer Levitt. Remember him? He was the short cop with the big booming laugh, played by the actor Ron Carey.

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Here’s how freaky time is…

After I graduated college, I moved to Hollywood. Like a million other young women, I had dreams of being an actress. I was in several plays before I found my home theatre. It was Celebration Theatre, the LGBT theatre in Holl...

Yesterday, Saxon and I were listening to a Jim Croce album. Yep, you heard that right. An album. A vinyl album.

Anyway, Saxon looked at me and said, “Why did rock stars and musicians stop dying in airplane crashes?”

“What d’ya mean?” I asked.

“You know, musicians used to die in plane crashes a lot. Lynyrd Skynyrd, Buddy Holly, Otis Redding, Patsy Cline, Jim Croce, Ricky Nelson—

“Wait! Back up. What? Jim Croce?”

“Yeah, he died in a plane crash. He was maybe 30,” Saxon said.

I buried my face in...

Saxon and I recently went back in the closet. Wait, it’s not what you think! We have never been in the closet in that way. I meant that we are literally in our closet.

Why are we in our closet? Because it’s our new sound studio. Our publishing company, Square Pegs Ink, has branched out to audiobooks! (pause for applause)

After months of study, Saxon and I bought everything we needed to produce our own audiobooks. From the mike to the shockmount to the mastering program… All that moolah adds u...