Anna Blake's Blog, page 52

Social Media , Consequences, and Strange Birds

Social media is a bit like a snake pit. There are some snakes that are beautiful and peaceful. Some of them do jobs we appreciate like keeping an eye on rodent populations. And some are venomous; they are poison.

Social media is great. It’s an opportunity to experience the world in a larger way; to meet people I wouldn’t otherwise. I live on a small farm on the prairie and don’t get out much. With the help of the internet, I have managed to have a voice past the end of the driveway.

I never underestimate the importance of free speech or take it for granted. Even when I want to scream against bullies, haters, and fear-mongers whose voices rant for selfish reasons; to hear their own rage amplified as if disrespect and deception was a sign of intelligence. Social media is where an idea can explode out of control in a moment when readers get on a “like” button bandwagon–free speech was never easier.

Free speech on public media has consequences. This week I saw a meme saying that posting political beliefs was a good way to make the Christmas list shorter. It’s a bittersweet joke with an edge of truth; Facebook rants change how I think of my friends. I unfriend unfriendlies. Every time there’s a shooting somewhere, you can be guaranteed that the NRA gun lovers will have pulled the trigger on Second Amendment rants before the bodies are in the ground. There is no cease fire for funerals. Even children’s funerals. The meanness wears me down.

Are you concerned about the content you’re adding to the world conversation? As much as I enjoy creative profanity–and I do enjoy it–I don’t use it publicly. And since it’s always easy to find a compliment or a kernel of humor, I go with that. Let the haters hate; it’s the easy path. Naturally, I learned that in the barn too. My mentor always said it was the cheapest easiest thing to judge what was wrong with a horse or rider. It took no real talent or skill to recognize, but in the end, you judge horses or humans on a sliding scale of the least-bad thing. She required me to lift my vision, see what I liked, and reward that. Ends up it good advice for social media, too.

It isn’t a denial of what’s wrong so much as an affirmation of what we want to see. A vote that things can be better in the future. It takes more courage to lift up out of the muck and be kind than to point fingers and complain. Because the problem with gossip is that if something gets repeated often enough, it doesn’t have to be true. That damages our integrity as individuals and as a country.

I wonder if Gandhi’s words apply to Facebook:

The “Seven Social Sins”: Knowledge without character, Science without humanity, Wealth without work, Commerce without morality, Politics without principles, Pleasure without conscience, Worship without self-sacrifice.  –-Mahatma Gandhi

One of my favorite parts of this new author experience of mine is hearing from readers. I got an email from Eeva telling me that she heard me mentioned in some blogs and got my book, Stable Relation, by coincidence. She complimented the book, saying she had gone so far that… “When reading about birds, I even googled for pictures as I’m not familiar with those species you have over there.” She lives in Finland. And that’s what I love about social media; it has the ability to join us together to share our lives. We are all more alike than different. Now I’ll go google the birds on her pond.

THIS WEEK: I had a great time at the book talk at Bingo’s, our local tack store. The crowd was fun and I get a bit more comfortable each time. I’m enjoying the reading part, finally escaping grade school memories, and we all laughed like old friends. At the end, while I was signing, a wonderful woman with a winning smile asked to have her picture taken with me. I’m sure I made a face. No one has ever asked before and it wigged me out. Don’t even try to comfort me by telling me the Kardashian sisters started this way. (I hope I apologized myself out of that awkward moment… I’m pretty sure I was rude.)

A reminder: Now is a good time for that review you’ve been meaning to write on Amazon. Just a word or two, and it keeps us alive in the search world. Thank you. And this bit of news: Book two, coming in a month or so, will have just a few photos in it!

Saturday, November 28th, I’ll be signing books at Covered Treasures Bookstore in Monument, Colorado from 12 to 2pm. They’re located in the Chapala Building, at 105 Second Street. (719-481-BOOK) This indie bookstore is a wonderful stop for holiday shopping. I hope to see you there.

Join us December 5th, Saturday, at High Prairie Library here in Falcon, Colorado between 1-3pm. I’ll be reading, taking questions and signing books. The library has also purchased books that will be available for lend soon. Libraries are the place dreams are born, come and say hello!

I am so grateful for all the kind words and support that has lifted this little book. Wishing you a Thanksgiving that gives pause to laugh and see the best in the world. And in this season, where social media memes remind us that we are all refugees, I will cast my one tiny vote for love to be just one inch bigger than fear.

Is Blogging the Ugly Step-child of Writing?

I tried out another writer’s group last month. They tell you it’s important to hang with other writers. I have some friends who write, but no critique group, so I was hopeful. The group was friendly and informative, with a wealth of common internet knowledge. One person was asking advice about ways to get people to her website, so I asked if she blogged. Then I defended blogging. That’s how I made no new friends.

They informed me that real authors hate to blog. Maybe, but I know some who cross the line. It takes too much time, they say. Boy howdy, no argument–it certainly does. There’s no money in it, they add. No money in napping with cats either. My writing is valuable and I won’t just throw it away for free. Now, wait a minute!

I have a confession: I don’t just love my blog; I’m in love with it.

In the beginning, I was shy. It was all I could do to hit the publish button after four hundred awkward words. Then I begged all nine of my friends to read my blog. When I checked the stats, if fewer people had read it, I worried. If I did write a blog that I liked, I was certain I would never write another as good. If I somehow managed to get two good blogs out, I knew I would run out of ideas before three. And no one ever left a comment.

Nothing about the blog was good, or fun, or remotely easy. Writing it was a scheduled, self-inflicted wound. So I did a crazy thing; I didn’t miss a deadline for almost six years. If that wasn’t bad enough, I gave myself assignments (to be humorous, to be poignant, to describe something hard to describe), and required myself to do the very best job of writing that I could. Gradually something shifted in my attitude and I found a voice. That’s how I fell in love.

Next, I fell in love with the readers who eventually contributed heartfelt comments, when my words finally invited them out. Hearing back from readers is still the best part. And with the confidence I borrowed from them, the memoir, Stable Relation, became possible. The whole thing worked a bit like a boomerang–logical but scary at the same time.

THIS WEEK: The next book is close. I completed the edit of Relaxed and Forward: Relationship Advice From Your Horse. I’ll give it one more read through, come up with the blurbs, and then it’s off to the book designer. It’s a combination of my best blogs (essays) on training advice for horses. Available by the end of the year hopefully.

There are a few local book events coming up soon for the memoir, Stable Relation:

Wednesday, November 18th, I will be at our favorite hometown tack store, Bingo’s D&S Saddle Shop from 6 to 8pm. In Kim and Diane’s words, “This book made us laugh and cry and has many of the “ah ha!” moments, so indicative of a great book.  Thoughtful, brave, sentimental and stoic, it was a pleasure to read and we were only sad to see it finally end… so looking forward to Anna’s next book!” Space is limited so call for a seat. 719-634-6070, Bingo’s is located at 418 S. 8th Street, Colorado Springs.

Saturday, November 28th, I’ll be signing books at Covered Treasures Bookstore in Monument, Colorado from 12 to 2pm. They’re located in the Chapala Building, at 105 Second Street. (719-481-BOOK) This indie bookstore is a wonderful stop for holiday shopping. I hope to see you there.

Join us December 5th, Saturday, at High Prairie Library here in Falcon, Colorado between 1-3pm. I’ll be reading, taking questions and signing books. The library has also purchased books that will be available for lend soon. Libraries are the place dreams are born, come and say hello!

Is blogging the ugly step-child of writing? I guess that depends on how much you put into it, before you put your name on it. For me, one writes the other, and then returns the favor back again. In the end, it’s about getting meaningful words on the page. I’ll trust the rest to readers.

Upcoming Book Talks and Upcoming Books!

I was that kid; in junior high school, I routinely turned in twelve page book reports when two pages were required. There’s an argument that I should have started editing my writing back then… but bless my overworked English teachers who were kind enough to take the time to grade so much over-written acreage with their red pens.

By high school I had that one special English teacher, of course. Her name was Mrs. LaBelle, and what was the miraculous thing she did? She liked me. For those of us whose home life was lacking, that’s all it took to inspire us. I was hungry and I met her half-way. When I went wild for Shakespeare, she offered me independent study so I could read more. And when that semester was ending, she asked if I was aware that the seeds of Shakespeare were found in Greek classics. So another independent study semester, and when I cut class my senior year, you could find me reading Euripides out on the lawn. Yes, I was that kid. I didn’t make it to college, but I have read world literature all my adult life, thanks to Mrs. LaBelle. And there’s more than a bit of her in me still.

Each year of school, some teacher took notice of me and it made all the difference. I’ll never be a huge fan of homeschooling; I will forever support public schools as I continue to benefit from that opportunity of meeting adults outside my family who helped me see past my circumstances. It’s a gift I still hold dear.

And now I’m back in the place I love; writing and editing the next book. I’m working again with my editor and book designer. Red ink rules the day. This part is just as creative as the first draft. I love the job of getting every word just so. The cover is nearly finished except for the blurb. They’re murder to write; it’s when you distill the book down to one scintillating paragraph for the back cover.

This new book has the working title of Relaxed and Forward: Relationship Advice From Your Horse. It’s a compilation of selected essays from the first five years of my blog, as requested by readers. I write about technique, but more than that, the writing focuses on touch, feel, and attitude most effective in work with horses. Because any relationship must be fully dimensional to be honest.

I’m hoping to have the new book available by December.

There are a few local book events coming up soon for Stable Relation:

Wednesday, October 21st, I will be at Happy Dog Ranch in Littleton, Colorado with the Horse Hungry Meet-up group. Everyone is welcome; contact me if you’d like to come.

Saturday, November 28th, I’ll be signing books at Covered Treasures Bookstore in Monument, Colorado from 12 to 2pm. They’re located in the Chapala Building, at 105 Second Street. (719-481-BOOK) This indie bookstore is a wonderful stop for holiday shopping. I hope to see many of you there.

Join us December 5th, Saturday, at High Prairie Library here in Falcon, Colorado between 1-3pm. I’ll be reading, taking questions and signing books. The library has also purchased books that will be available for lend soon. Libraries are the place dreams are born, come and say hello!

And finally, I confess that biology was the class I tanked in. Ironic, as much amateur veterinary work as I do these days. What classes in school served you more than you expected? And most of all, tell me about your special teacher. What would you like to say to them today?

[Click HERE for the link to buy my book, or if you’ve already read it, please consider leaving a review on this link as well. It really does make a difference.]

And most of all, thank you for supporting us.

Little Engines, Indie Bookstores, and Chug, Chug, Chug…

Confession: I’ve never read The Little Engine That Could. I’m pretty fluent in the classics, too, just not children’s classics. The only books I saw before going to school were the Louis L’amour books my father read. Even so, you can’t live in this culture without acquiring some Cliff’s Notes version of the story, or at least a faint memory of a cartoon train with an affable smile on the uphill chug… “I think I can, I think I can.”

My editor has used the Little Engine analogy more than once referring to my post-publishing adventures. A more sophisticated author might poo-poo this comparison but all I can think is yes, I hope so! Then I imagine the smile on the cartoon engine getting even toothier. So far, I’ve beat the odds.

I am in post-publish limbo; I’ve launched the book. Now’s the time to roll out my multi-million dollar advertising campaign.

*crickets, wind in the grass, and a distant bray*

Things included in my public relations budget: Social media is free. Kind of amazing in this world, but such an asset. This week my Facebook Author page passed 600 likes. Answered with 600 thank-yous. Stable Relation and my blog, Relaxed and Forward, both owe a huge debt to social media. In the old days it would have been called free advertising.

I check my sales numbers online every day, while I swat a few flies. It’s full-on fly season in the studio. While in Limbo, the main job is thinking up creative PR and trying to position yourself to be ready if something happens. It’s keeping a lighthearted optimism and celebrating each tiny win. Then it’s the back-handed fly swat, while I check my Amazon page for new reviews.

And of course, I still beg for reviews every day. They are the gift that keeps on giving. (Please leave a review if you haven’t. Then Google will have to notice that I’m still smiling and chugging along.)

I got a message from my friend Max. She went into an independent bookstore in Monument, CO, called Covered Treasures and bought a copy of Stable Relation for a gift. Get this; they had it in stock! (Chug. Chug-chug.) Max was going to recommend me for their local author section, but they had already added me, after a review in the Gazette by Bill Radford. They even told her it was selling fairly well. CHUG.

Max, thank you so much remembering my book and mentioning it to them! Like Tennessee Williams, “I have always relied on the kindness of strangers.”

The wonderful book lovers at Covered Treasures took a risk and invested in my book. It’s the first time I know of that Stable Relation has been available in a brick-and-mortar store and I’m so grateful.

Small business is always an act of faith. In a world of huge corporate chains and online giants, an independent business has to have a healthy dose of the Little Engine That Could commitment to survive.  Especially an independent bookstore. And chugging along is easier with friends.

So locals, please consider dropping by and thanking them, and maybe picking up a book while you’re there. This week they are having a book event with Sandra Dallas, one of my favorite–ever since The Persian Pickle Club–authors.

Covered Treasures is located at 105 2nd Street in Monument, CO 80132. Here’s a link to their Facebook page. Give them a click if you think indie bookstores are special. Or just because my LIKE of them is bigger than one click can express.

Do you have a favorite local indie bookstore? It’s a good time to thank them for being there. If you’re on the Stable Relation train with me, you might mention a great indie-published book you know…

As for me, this week I’m going to do something I’ve never done. I’ll be walking into a bookstore I’ve never visited before, looking at a book that used to only exist in my mind. What a world.

Politics, Typing, and the Right Tool for the Job.

My computer is up on blocks. Like an old rusted-out Chevy, it’s balanced on top of two eyeglass cases that are resting on top of a computer cooling pad with three fans.  It still overheats, so there’s another fan behind this teetering stack, roaring along and blowing in my face, unless I give in and change the angle. Then post-it notes fly in all directions.

I’ve outgrown this little computer. It managed to deliver my final manuscript in one piece while in this limping and wheezing state, but it took some coaxing. It’s crammed full with photos and words; over-loaded and worked beyond its years, but it still manages to roll along–well below the speed limit. There’s hang-time between hitting the key and the letter eventually arriving on my screen. It can’t keep up with my typing speed, which is another way of saying I only type a bit faster than a Chevy on blocks.

I never wanted to be a famous typist anyway. Don’t blame my high school typing teacher. She was a saint and I was her worst nightmare; a baby feminist who didn’t want to be there.

I’m a feminist. I’ve been a female for a long time now. It’d be stupid not to be on my own side. –Maya Angelou

You see, I thought if people knew I could type, or cook, or sew–all of which I was secretly pretty good at–then I could be pigeon-holed into those jobs. Adorably naive, wasn’t I? Like typing badly was going to insure a better career; like typing well would limit my potential. The truth was that I didn’t want a fallback position, even if my goals were unclear at the time.

I continue to hate to cook, but typing well has won me over. So has technology; a computer and my beloved Scriveners software keep me moving on down the road. And I’m grateful for this old jalopy of a computer. It’s carried me to places I always wanted to go.

WEEKLY UPDATE: Have you entered the book giveaway at Goodreads? There’s a link at the top of this page, too, and today’s the last full day. They’re signed and ready to mail!

For everyone who has written a review… a special thank you. For self-published or small press authors, that vote of confidence really carries weight. We don’t have industry clout; we hope to have something much more valuable than a huge advertising budget…the recommendations of readers. People who speak their word in support of our words. Really, thank you so much if you’ve left a review at Amazon, Good Reads and Barnes and Noble. It’s the best way of keeping my little book afloat in a sea of writing. If you haven’t left a review, please consider it. Numbers matter; it’s a kindness that makes a bigger difference than you imagine.

Being grateful for reviews is easy. The endless promotion is harder. At what point does this become tiresome and annoying for everyone? What if I quit pushing the book just a day too soon? Stable Relation has been on the market for ten weeks. This week I entered three indie book award contests, with winners to be announced next year. On advice, I’m revamping the Amazon page to make it more attractive to search engines, and participating in an online social media campaign. If we show up some place you don’t usually see us, let me know.

And big news–I received my first royalty check. It’s the first pay I’ve ever gotten for my writing, after years of blogging, article writing, and volunteering words when asked. It wasn’t huge and it arrived on a day that brought other news, not as happy. In some ways, it was almost anticlimactic after so long, but an undeniable milestone just the same.

I used some of the money to buy a new/refurbished computer. I’d like to say it’s like a Ferrari, a Porsche, a Rolls Royce with a uniformed driver, a foot spa, and a mini-bar. But no, my ego has matured since high school; the computer that I got is more like a minivan. Not flashy, not romantic, but extravagantly practical. There’s comfortable seating with outlandish storage space for words and pictures and imagination. It’s big enough to carry a library of books–the ones just waiting for me to write them; just waiting for my fingers to catch up with the keys.

 

I Quack at Tweeting.

“THEY” tell authors we need a platform. That we can’t get published without one. At the same time I think there might be a rule among writers that it’s cool to hate social media. #iamanartist

“It just takes too much time.” On the rare occasion that I get in a room with other writers, no one wants to have a blog because it’s time-consuming, frustrating work, and then they have to promote it on social media. After five and a half years of actively blogging, I totally agree. I’d even add that you don’t make a dime. On the other hand, it is where actual readers hang out.  #writerswrite #bitingthehandthatfeedsyou

I get defensive in those writer meetings. I like social media. #contraryasagoat

I’m a board member of Horse Advocates of Colorado. We formed, put up a page on Facebook, and had over six hundred followers within a week. Now we are over a thousand members strong and those likes get us into welfare meetings that matter. The legal system knows us and the local horse community can stay informed. I blog for them; it’s time-consuming and unpaid. And it makes a difference. #blogyourpolitics #dogooder

Social media is what you make of it. You can complain about your spouse, take selfies all day, or show us your shoes. #selfobscesseddweeb  Or you can get a kind reminder that your friends care about you on your birthday or when you lose a pet. #notalone #loveyou

We do have freedom of speech in this country and the responsibility of keeping the conversation worthwhile is up to each individual. #oldschoolgoldenrule #hatersgottahate

I rock on Facebook. I’ve found a supportive community that cares about what I care about. I write a blog horses and barn life; it has a sense of humor and a big heart. I try to make words matter; I try to explain things that are hard to explain. #horsesareaparable #bittersweet

It takes courage to hit the publish button each blog post–still now–so many posts later. And the same bravery again for the share button on Facebook. Posts were soundly ignored for the first few years; some go viral now.  #whocareswhatyouthink  #doitanyway

Are you one of the people I’ve been rude to on Twitter? I may imitate cool on Facebook (#geniusinherownmind) but Twitter kills me. I look away and hit the auto-post button. I hate those crazy-weird shortened URLs and abbreviated words hurt my ears. #wouldbeenglishmajor #socialmediasnob

But a writer/friend in Austin, Jann, suggested I up my Twitter-self. She says the writers there are positive and supportive. She was right. @annablake got a new photo and new blurb. #reluctantsuccess  #tryingthankstoJann

Then the real challenge; it’s a different language. Jann gave me some pointers and then started tweeting about my book. #reallifedemonstration  I had no idea what to do next–what if what I did was arrogant or lame. So I stared at the page. And stared some more. #flopsweat

Then I followed a couple of re-tweeters. And I thanked one of them. The staring continued. It’s the hashtags that baffle me the most. Can you tell? Some connect you to people (I think) and some are red herrings. Can any of you help me with this? Seriously, in the comments please.  #twitterfordumbies  #amIbeingobtuse #talkdowntome

WEEKLY UPDATE: book sales trickle in and the promoting continues. Stable Relation has been out for two months. If it had been published traditionally, the publisher would back off now, in favor of newer books. It hasn’t been enough time so I’m talking to the library about buying Stable Relation and I’ve enrolled in their local author program. The first book talks were so fun, that I’m looking for more public speaking opportunities.

I am being redundant, but here is where I ask again; please write a review, just a few words when you have a moment, to post to Amazon, Good Reads and Barnes and Noble. It keeps Stable Relation alive in the search engines; it gives it a bit of weight when promoting the book.

There is a book giveaway at Goodreads, (here,scroll down a bit). It’s a dozen signed copies; you should enter. It’s another way I can thank you.

Most of all, thank you, for reading it in the first place and then following this road with me. Knowing that we are all part of a bigger herd is the best part of the journey. #happytrails #graditudeincapitalletters #itsalongandwindingroad

I did hear back from the tweeter that I thanked. At first I didn’t think there was a messaged, just a garbled short link. So I added a squink to my usual stare, and that’s when I found the message: YW.  I had to look it up.

Telling the Truth about Secrets.

…”Anna is so brutally honest about things that are considered sacred in general society.” A recent quote posted by a reader, from a non-horsey friend of hers.

And probably true.

Sacred is a great word choice. I picture brutal honesty as the Holy Grail in that Indiana Jones movie: a bright-hot light burning with ecstasy and destruction. The truth is that usually we fib about small insignificant things, until it becomes habit, and one day lies have taken the place of reality. It totally lacks the pace of movie drama.

When I was in high school, I got a speeding ticket. I know–a shocking confession. My mom went to court with me. The judge scolded me and then told my mother that I was limited to only driving for extreme necessity like work, and that she was supposed to put me on detention of some sort. While we were walking out of the courtroom, my mom handed me the keys. It had to look like defiance, but the truth was that she was distracted with concern about what would happen if my father found out.

I drove home–not what the judge had in mind–while my mom told me that it had to be our secret. That she wouldn’t tell dad, and neither would I, and then it would be fine. The idea made me nervous and I was a contrary teenager. Dad was home when we got there and as I walked through the door, I announced that I got a speeding ticket. He was no different than usual; cranky, but he always expected me to screw-up. You could say the news didn’t disappoint him at all.

This blunt proclivity for truth-telling was best named by an undisclosed ex-husband as “an exaggerated sense of truth.” What does that even mean? And since when is having a truth-based response treated as if it were a social disorder?

Well, I do know the answer to that one. When the truth is uncomfortable, which it frequently is, we change the answer. We are a species capable of deceit. We lie for convenience; it isn’t always intentionally mean. We make excuses that we are doing it to be kind to others or to make ourselves look better. We may do it to protect someone or my least favorite; we are not forthcoming so that we can control someone’s response. Like your father’s.

Maybe you’re the black sheep in your family. Maybe it’s your job to draw fire, at personal expense, so no one else has to take responsibility for things that have happened and things that were said…or unsaid. We just hold our tongues and tread lightly–listening for danger. And we never relax too much but one day we look around and nothing is real. It’s like Halloween; there’s an ill-fitting store-bought princess costume pulled over top of your own clothes–which would almost resemble a superhero costume if you just stood up tall. But standing tall comes with confidence that you get from being accepted for who you are, not wearing the costume of someone else’s design.

Disclaimer: We have all met people who relish saying mean things under the guise of honesty. They give honesty a bad name making statements that start with “You know what your problem is…” or “You need to dump that jerk…”

That said, I consider honesty the social equivalent of wearing elastic-waist pants. Just more comfortable, more breathable–honesty is the next best thing to freedom. I can collect my thoughts and then say what’s true for me. In therapy–and I would know–they call this using “I” statements. No blame is cast, there is no push to agree. It’s just your opinion but at the most and least, it’s an affirmation of who we are. What’s more primal than that? What is more crazy-making that taking that away? It’s always my hope that speaking out in “I” statements will be contagious. When one person does it, it gives freedom to others to follow suit.

Conversely, a small habit of dishonesty or withholding the truth can become a growing habit. Secrets can boil and fester, infecting and overwhelming the truth. It can destroy the possibility of love and trust. If you’ve built a house of cards around secrets and lies, it could all collapse, which fuels a good-sized midlife crisis. Not the worst thing.

WEEKLY UPDATE: This week a few sales tricked in but sales are about a third of last month. The good news and the bad news: this probably signals the end of the easy sales to my friends and followers. The Gazette, the Colorado Springs newspaper, ran a review/interview about Stable Relation. (Gazette article here) I appreciate it greatly, partly because it was a gift that I didn’t have to grovel for. Are you as tired of all this shameless self-promotion as I am? But am I ready to quit this book? Nope.

So here is an example of groveling, combined with “I” statements: I notice that other books have more reviews than mine. I notice that Chosen by a Horse has 329 and Buck has 827, because my Amazon page lets me know these life-affirming facts. Since I think Stable Relation is more than my story, I would like to see it go farther. And so, I would really appreciate it if those of you who’ve read the book, could take a moment to post a review. It makes a huge difference on this side–it’s like throwing Google a treat with my name on it. One sentence is fine, even if you didn’t like it, again, honesty is the goal. I‘d like to hear what you think, either way.

I’m giving my final word about honesty, writing, and common sense to Anne:

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” –Anne Lamott

Book Talks: Grade School Revisited.

Gideon and Kim Walnes, reading in a more comfortable place.

“Oh no, not another long inane story about those silly goats.” “Is she really going to recount every stride of her last horse show?” “She just posted twenty-five nearly identical photos of her dog sitting and staring straight into the camera. Again.”

You know the way it goes. Every time you mention your animals, everyone in the room rolls their eyes.

Well, it’s taken over two and a half years of finagling, but I hit the jackpot twice last week. There was a room full of people and they wanted to hear about my animals. Nirvana. It finally happened. They were all ears–looking at me with anticipation. And all I had to do was stand up front and read–just like grade school. Back then, I wore two-tone pointy glasses that were always cock-eyed–or my eyebrows were. So I was hoping to act a little cooler than the last time I read out loud in front of people. It wasn’t be a high mark to meet.

My author friend, Susan, trying to warn me, told me a funny anecdote. She said that before a book talk, it’s common for an author to open their book and find absolutely nothing to read. She said it happens to everyone, but I was undaunted. I love my book.

Three hours before the first book talk, I began to page through Stable Relation to find the right chapter. Oh holy beans, she was right. It was all just too pathetic. Not one readable word. I decided to put off the decision until sanity returned.

A blink later, there I was, wearing not-barn-clothes and standing on a beautiful deck with a dozen people smiling at me. When the time to read came, I asked for a request; I wanted to be the kind of cool who could handle that. Besides, I didn’t have a better idea.

I opened my book to that requested chapter, one of the same pages that looked pathetic very recently, and with all the savoir faire of a grade school girl with sagging anklets, I started reading out loud.

Disclaimer: I am not actually a graduate of the Evelyn Wood School of Speed Reading. I had a runaway.

Then I lucked out. Every drop of saliva in my mouth dried up, my teeth became a 3-D tongue magnet, grabbing from all angles and forcing me to slow down. The words were unfamiliar and awkward; they had no glide. I took a sip of water. Okay, a huge gulp of water. And went back to reading, but slower on some of the words. Finally, with a super-human anxiety half-halt, I slowed down almost all the words, almost consistently.

Apparently, I am still learning to read. But the group was generous beyond belief and no one seemed to notice. In the end, I had a great time and I hope the guinea pigs people who came enjoyed it as well. Thanks to everyone for your patience.

The second book talk was two days later. There was still nothing to read and this group was twice the size of the first. Again, I asked for a request but this time, I took a deep breath before beginning. Horses taught me to do that. I read the words slower and with a rhythm in my voice, obedient to the punctuation marks. My mouth was a desert island and I let the words frolic in the sand this time. During the pauses, I could hear people laughing. But in a good way.

When I finished reading, it was time for questions. Someone asked about the animals living with me now. Can you believe it? Every animal fanatic’s dream. I mentioned the corgis and Edgar Rice Burro. I told a story about trying to train Bhim, the mini. I don’t remember what I said, but there was more laughter. Now that my book wasn’t in front of my eyes, I could see the people actually looked quite friendly, and there were moments that I felt remotely comfortable.

Maybe reading in public is a little like doing a series of flying changes on a horse. At first there is so much anticipation that you try too hard and it feels just like a high-speed, slow-motion tumble down a hill. But eventually, you pick yourself up, settle you mind, and let yourself be carried. Then it turns into a rolling dance. I am hoping that happens soon, because these words really should fit in my mouth a little more comfortably.

WEEKLY UPDATE: Sales continue to trickle in, some days five, some days none. My hope is that early readers will encourage a second wave of readers; that word of mouth will kick in soon. As the number of reviews on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Goodreads grows, Stable Relation will be spotlighted and come up in Amazon and Google searches more often. This is where I plead one more time–please take a moment and write a brief review if you’ve read the book. It means a lot towards getting the Stable Relation in front of more readers. And thank you to everyone holding the vision here with me. Thanks for all the support and kind words. I borrow on your optimism regularly.

For now, I’m on the lookout for book contests and more speaking opportunities. I am not, however, looking for passages to read. It’s better when that’s a surprise.

No Permission. No regrets.

“No Regrets.” Such big words. I’ve been thinking about future regret since I was little. Parents warn us early on to do the right thing for fear of regret; the negative reinforcement we’ll feel if we don’t follow all the rules. Maybe that means don’t talk in class so we won’t get detention after school. It starts innocently enough and we all want that pat on the head a good dog deserves. No harm in that.

Unless, of course, a pile of years pass and you wake up one morning and don’t recognize your life. Unless there is a small voice in the back of your head that keeps reminding you of the path not taken; reminding you, forty years later, that there’s still a little girl inside and she still wants a pony. You gotta love a good meaty midlife crisis.

In a non-literal way, it’s almost like our parents are still telling us to clean our room before we can go out to play, but no matter how hard we try, our room just never gets clean enough. Even after our parents pass, we never get to play. It’s as if restriction is the adult thing to do.

So there we are at the intersection of “I’m being responsible” and “can I go play”. We all get there a few dozen times in our life. It’s the awareness that maturity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That’s normal. The real question is what’s next?

The ugly truth is that we are a culture of whiners. We make excuses. In defense of excuses, they are probably true. We do have to work for a living; we do have others who depend on us. But just because we have a valid excuse for not living the dream, it doesn’t go away–the inner voice doesn’t shut up.

Two weeks ago, I blogged that there was something about living here on the farm gave me permission to just stop feeling the rub of judgement, and a reader asked for more about that. It’s a great question: when do we stop trying to please our parents, metaphorically or literally, and when do we start living for ourselves. It’s the place where regret perches like a vulture on your shoulder, and the excuses are deafeningly loud. Will someone name-call you selfish? Is doing-for-yourself is a bad thing?

Somewhere inside, pretending to be asleep, is that dream too precious to name. We all have one. But what no one tells us about dreams, is that they don’t just magically come true. You have inconvenience yourself and squeeze them into reality. At first they fit like a lycra bike racing suit on a donkey. No one is impressed.

“If you want to live an authentic, meaningful life, you need to master the art of disappointing others and live with the reality that some people just won’t like you.” –Cheryl Richardson.

The great thing about a midlife crisis, in hindsight of course, is that once you come out the other side, you might still be a donkey, but you don’t care how you look in a lycra bike racing suit. The other words for that are living the dream.

Writing this book was part of my dream. Word by word, with time stolen from responsibilities, in a graceless and braying sort of way. I’m keenly aware that no one gave me permission, but I would have regretted not doing it so much more than the inconvenience of having a dream. Bottom line–wearing lycra always takes guts.

WEEKLY UPDATE: This week I got my first bad review. Someone is disappointed with the book. It was as inevitable as animal hair on my clothes and the opinion was delivered with the kind/blunt honesty a donkey like me appreciates. It was a moment I’ve been waiting for…. and it was okay. No excuses. No regrets.

But being okay with not pleasing everyone is doesn’t mean I don’t care what you think. Even cheesier than that, I care what Amazon thinks. Does that make me selfish. Well, so it goes. You all have been monsters at leaving reviews. Thank you so much; there are 56 reviews now. Pretty spectacular for a first time author, and the Amazon search engines are mumbling, “Anna Who?”

THEY SAY around 20-25 reviews, Amazon starts including the book in “also bought” and “you might like” lists. This increases your chances of someone finding your title. Around 50-70 reviews, Amazon looks at your book for spotlight positions and the newsletter. 

I’m not sure when the dream of finishing my book came to include becoming a spotlight ad on Amazon, but there you have it. Still no apologies. Please, if you like this book, and even if you don’t, leave a review.

And then spend some time making friends with your own midlife crisis. I hope you have some ungainly lycra in your future.

Yodeling, Yapping, and Ya-hoodling: A Book Trailer.

If you follow my farm blog, you know about the Corgi Men. There’s Walter who came from a rescue in Wyoming, along with a warning that he had no inside voice and wasn’t afraid to use it. And Preacher Man, from Texas. Preacher was named for a condition discovered on the way to the rescue from the dog pound…it seems he liked the sound of his own voice just a bit too much. Since when is it a crime to communicate bluntly and honestly? Since when is that a bad thing–I ask in a surly growl?

Walter has a grumpy old bass voice, like somebody’s weird uncle who is always muttering about something just under his breath, until it percolates up to a full rib-spreading bark–an operatic bark. Preacher Man has a high, staccato Irish tenor of a bark. Like glass shattering; like an ambulance howl.

I don’t turn a deaf ear to their outlandish barking. Friends are getting used to it; or maybe losing hearing in certain ranges. It’s like they say, we have freedom of speech in this country, but it comes with a price.

Why brag on about corgis caterwauling day and night? With a shrill yap, short gray hair, and a bunion, I have joined their ranks. It’s all I ever do, like a corgi in a cat house, I ya-hoodle on and on about this book. You can’t shut me up.

Please buy it. Now’s a good time; Amazon has it marked down. Maybe they’ve given up on me already, but it’s a few dollars cheaper now. If you’ve already read it, please consider leaving a review at Amazon, Goodreads, and/or Barnes and Noble. It only takes a minute to jot down a few words, but the difference on this side is huge. I’d appreciate it–and I say that in the heartfelt tone that Walter uses when it’s pizza night.

WEEKLY UPDATE: Stable Relation has been out just less than a month. This week 31 books sold, taking the total to 319. It’s a strong number for a dark horse like us, but barely a raindrop in the ocean. (Our Amazon rank is 24,325.) Three book talks are in the works and I’m hoping for more. And everyday I get comments and emails that let me know this book has struck a chord with a wide range of people. I am very grateful, thank you for reading and recommending it.

And because I am a woof-tastic, yodel-ific corgi for PR work, (it isn’t a lie so much as an affirmation) I’ve followed the “I’ll do it myself” tradition and made a book trailer. It was totally within my publicity budget, by the way. What do you think?

Stable Relation Book Trailer