Pamela Schloesser Canepa's Blog, page 86
May 28, 2016
Summery Blog Party Live Link…Come on in!
Come on in, let’s get this party started. You are most welcome. Do make yourself comfortable. Refreshments are nicely arranged down the page: Drinks, Chocolates, Cakes, Donuts, freshly squeez…
Summery Blog Party Live Link…Come on in!
Come on in, let’s get this party started. You are most welcome. Do make yourself comfortable. Refreshments are nicely arranged down the page: Drinks, Chocolates, Cakes, Donuts, freshly squeez…
The stamped, addressed envelope
5-26-16: I just put it in the mail today, and I had struggled over the decision to fax it or not. The deciding factor was that I would not have to explain to anyone what I was sending, would not risk them seeing what I was sending, had I gone to a Kinko’s or faxed it from my work office. It would bring up my awkward, conflicted thoughts. Now it may take longer, but it’s so much easier to lick the envelope, seal it and stamp it, and then send it without a word to anyone. I won’t have to hide these feelings when I stand in awkward silence, or feel I have to try to explain to someone that I am letting go of a dream.
I just sent the notice to cancel my son’s college fund, and to get a refund on the remaining amount. At first, it was a glorious feeling, knowing I’d have that money coming in to pay for a summer vacation, and to fund my summer of doing nothing but writing, promoting my writing, and doing other enjoyable things. It was a relief. But the reality of sealing and stamping the envelope just brought up these conflicted feelings. You see, it made me look back. Back at how he loved going to the college campus but would not keep up with his studies, and the frightening alcohol overdose that landed him into the E.R and into a downward spiraling depression during that first term of college. This was on top of some of the problems he was already having. Of course, he withdrew, and didn’t do much, until, a year later, he tried college again. He struggled in his classes and could not keep up again, told me I was not helping him enough, then told me to leave him alone when I tried to help. I’d already decided I would not pay for a tutor. I had done that through his high school years. The college fund that paid for his tuition was opened by me when he was an infant and I made payments for 18 years. It was hard to look at him losing a grasp on that dream I had for him. It was sad as well, because he really enjoyed the open campus and just being there. After dropping out, he once again, was not doing much, and appeared to feel lousy about himself for a while.
Enter the job opportunity. A friend of the family helped him get a full-time job. It earns entry level pay, but there are opportunities for advancement and technical training. He is doing some really hard dirty work and is enjoying it. He never complains! I’m amazed. Recently, I decided to accept that he wasn’t going to college, and to cash in the college fund, depositing it into a retirement account. Well, it makes sense to set some aside for this unemployed summer that I am about to enter. I really do need a rest, but not only that, I really do want to continue writing and drumming up interest for my work, because that encourages me to write more. You may have figured out that writing is my passion.
It took me a couple of days to mail this thing, but, I guess, I am using it to pursue my dreams. Some of it will go into my retirement account. I’m trying to feel better about this again. It is not only going to help me pursue my dreams, it also represents my letting go, as hard as this is, a dream I constructed for someone else, someone who needs the freedom to construct his own dreams.
There are so many different ways to let go. Ways we have to let go. The final step in this scenario was for me to let that stuffed envelope go that I’ve been holding onto for days. There is really no way we can foresee the future for our children, or the roads they will take. But we can have faith, that it will be a blessed path, where every misstep leads to wisdom, laughter, or important lessons learned.
1996. Loved then, still loved now.❤
May 23, 2016
Re-posting. Tumbler 101 for Authors
I’m still trying to figure out this Tumblr thing, and how it could be useful to me. It is very visually distracting and draws a person in. Now, how do I draw them in to my Tumblr site and the info. about my published book? Does anyone use tumblr as an author? Please share your thoughts and some of your experiences, as I am just starting out!
I will have to read this one a few times, but it seems pretty thorough, and I thought I’d share:
http://selfpublishingteam.com/tumblr-101-for-authors-guest-post/
May 21, 2016
Not for Me, the Wives’ Social Circle
*Image courtesy of renjith krishnan at http://www.freedigitalphotos.net
Have you ever felt like a caged bird? I’ve even felt that way in the midst of several other people. They didn’t seem to be caged. At times, I was just accustomed to it, and I made do, laughing and enjoying myself. Though I must admit, there was always an underlying feeling of being trapped, and perhaps, a knowledge that I chose this trap myself. This entry is not about marriage being horrible, and it is not to rant about the atrocities of my marriage, nor is it to slam the wives I was acquainted with while married. It is just my experience, brought up by a thought that popped in my head after eighteen years, “Where are they today?”
This social circle of wives was something that formed whenever our husbands all went out together, or when there were celebrations, such as my son’s second birthday, or someone moving to a new house. We bonded when our husbands made long treks to refill on beer or liquor so the party could go on. It made sense, though. Most of our husbands had worked together in the Navy. Many of them got out in their early twenties to pursue education, a job, a life in one place. This was the age when we were getting engaged and married, and then pregnancies and babies came along. We were all around the same age. I was cut off from my high school friends. Part of it is how shy I was in high school, another is, I never really attempted to keep in touch with any but maybe two close friends. I can gladly say I’ve gotten better about that, though.
I started thinking about our little group of wives lately. I just wondered about “The Millers,” whose baby was born weeks after I took my toddler with me and left my husband. I even spoke to Mrs. “Miller” after leaving him, trying to be friendly by phone, explaining my side of the story since my husband was incredulous as to why I’d want to leave our marriage. She gave advice. Lots of advice, that mentioned seeing my husband, dating him, but living separate. I was not interested in seeing him or dating him; I was interested in piecing my identity back together without him. He was not to be trusted with my deepest thoughts; it seemed he would always twist them and use them against me. I spoke to one other wife, “Mrs. Smith,” whose husband left her a few months after I left mine, and it was mentioned that they were partying together, hinting that maybe my husband’s newfound freedom looked good to him and influenced him to leave. They also had a child, a one year old, at home. Now, all of these friends drank heavily. I am not implying that Navy men are heavy drinkers. There are some who are not. My ex-husband simply did not seek them out as friends. I think I heard him refer to them as nerds, or too straight arrow.
It is not surprising that Mrs. Miller would encourage me to stay with my then husband; her own husband had already put her through all kinds of financial hell, and she stayed, for whatever reason, and that’s her own business. Not surprising either that Mrs. Smith hinted at my ex-husband’s influence in her husband leaving her. You see, it came out that she never trusted my husband. She mentioned his “beady eyes,” and that when he came around (before we met), she knew that he and her husband were going to get drunk and rowdy. What must she have thought of me? Did they all think that? Poor Pam, quiet, patient, she has to put up with all this. Why does she put up with all this? She must not feel she deserves any better. I was a part of a circle of wives who looked down on me. Who could blame them? I sure didn’t choose my own friends. There were many times I felt fear and desperation that I could share with no one, but my mother. She herself worried that I had no one to really confide in. At least, toward the end of our marriage, I was chummy with a young woman at work, and a man, who was married and I had no intention of fooling around with, yet it buoyed my spirit being his friend, and feeling I had an identity out of what my husband would choose for me. Yes, I told my husband about these friends. Needless to say, they were never invited over for dinner. He tried to make me feel guilty for having a male friend, and to convince me the young woman must be too wild, because she hangs out at a certain country bar.
So, it is apparent that the wives’ club was in existence for convenience. Throwing a party meant my husband’s friends and their wives were coming over. It was nice to have gals to talk to that were in similar experiences as mine as far as house buying, family planning, new parenthood. But when I left my husband, it became apparent that they did NOT see me as a person separate from him. I could not befriend them. He would always be a fixture in our conversations. When my best friend from high school moved back into town, as her husband’s job took them all over the Northeast for years, we’d get together and talk about what a loser my ex was, and yes, hers too. (He eventually became her ex). We’d talk about what we wanted in a man, without any guilt. We’d share book recommendations of women standing up for themselves and starting new lives. That is what a true friend does. When you envision ill-fortune befalling your ex, it’s so good to tell someone, and have her laugh with you, and say, I get it. You are not judged; you are encouraged to share. One good, understanding friend; that is better than belonging to any group of women.
It is only with a small hint of sadness that I think of them, and where their children are now. College? Marriage? Good lives? Hopefully not trouble? I don’t pick up the phone or try to contact them on Facebook. I am a different person now. I will leave that life behind. If I should run into them, I will smile and ask all the details about their children; I will truly wish them well. After eighteen years divorced, I have developed my own circle of friends, through work, church, former employment, even some high school friends with the help of Facebook. That, again, is better than belonging to a circle of wives. I may or may not be a wife again, and there’s nothing negative I imply about being a wife. The point is, what I want to be is a loving person, a friend, a writer, a lover of life, dog lover, poet, and maybe the best I can be as a teacher. That’s it; it is all I need to be part of, and I meet many lovely people in my life, several that I would call friends!
May 19, 2016
Book Trailer for sci-fi romance, Made for Me
Do they make a difference? Should I have made one right at the release of my book? (I’m thinking yes, but I don’t really know). All I know is, now I have an author presence on Youtube as well as my other social media, and that making it was fun, especially when I got to see the finished product! I followed step by step instructions in a Hubpages article written by another indie author. If you would like me to share it with you, I would be glad to! One author helping another is at the heart of this indie self-publishing game!
Here is my book trailer for my ebook, Made for Me:
May 17, 2016
When I Write, I Share Myself #sequel #communication
I have realized, thanks to a friend’s suggestion, that writing can be a way to foster my relationship with my son, who is slightly uncommunicative. Please understand that when I write some weird stuff! He just gave me advice on knives.[image error] This may also just keep me from being restricted in my genres. I like seeing things from many different perspectives. I have had to, in order to understand things my son has gone through. I am trying to communicate to him that I accept him as he is, even when silent, but he is part of my world, and I will share my world with him. (Even though much of it is in my head, but I chalk that up to healthy imagination). We all carry around stories. #amwriting #workingonsequeltomadeforme #sampsonseyesholdthesecret #grittyshortstoryonthewaytoo #scifi
May 15, 2016
Meet and Greet @ Dream Big: 5/14/16
A great way to network and share!
It’s the Meet and Greet weekend at Dream Big!!
Ok so here are the rules:
Leave a link to your page or post in the comments of this post.
Reblog this post. It helps you, it helps me, it helps everyone!
Edit your reblog post and add tags.
Feel free to leave your link multiple times! It is okay to update your link for more exposure every day if you want. It is up to you!
Share this post on social media. Many of my non-blogger friends love that I put the Meet n Greet on Facebook and Twitter because they find new blogs to follow.
Now that all the rules have been clearly explained get out there and Meet n Greet your tails off!
See ya on Monday!!
May 12, 2016
With Credit to the Bard, while the storm rages, around and within #Mentalhealthmonth
***May is Mental Health Awareness Month. This month is also the two year mark since my son’s graduation from high school. It was a stormy time. He was changing, going through some crises, and caused an awful lot of worry in me. I don’t think I always handled it well. But I am learning and growing, working on my mindset and ways of thinking. I previously wrote this elsewhere, and would like to share. This is my story to tell. One day, he will process the events in his life, and tell his own story.***
~2014~”Nothing is good or bad, but that thinking makes it so.” This quote by Shakespeare sums up a lot of my lessons learned from life. A break-up with a boyfriend, a change of schools, a dad who saw me once a year from age ten on. A mom trying to keep it all together for her two kids and not always hiding it well. An outwardly gregarious husband (now known as “the ex”) who was loved by everyone when he drank, except me.
Yes, so much has made me strong and laid the groundwork for the life of an independent woman. Let’s look at some of these words and how simply the spin we put on them makes the world of difference: strong. Known to some as harsh. Bitter. Tough. I have been called some of those, simply when someone did not like what I was saying. It is all in perception. I have been tired of being strong. It is all in how you see it. Now, independent. Called, by some, lonely. Alone. Self-centered. Sad (well that’s just interpretation). Wait, let me take self-centered and put it in a neutral category. There are sometimes when that is not bad at all! Self-centeredness is only bad if you think it is. Thank you, Shakespeare! Sure, it can be selfish, but other times, it is simply knowing oneself and it is powerful. When you are way too centered on others you cannot know yourself too well. In fact, you can easily lose yourself. This brings me to the subject of WORRYING.
Sure, these events were all only two weeks ago. But a lot has changed since then. I have been given the gift of loneliness, self-reflection, and time to be self-centered since my son went out of state to work for the summer. It was a tough transition at first. Now I feel that I can say I am getting there. It is nice to wake up in the morning and think “What do I want to do today?” Or to know that if I am going to the beach, I will stay as long as I want, and if I want to silently watch the waves and passersby, I will do that as long as I want until I feel hungry or tired. Not until someone else says, “Mom, let’s go. I’m hungry.” So, while there have been more things to worry about, such as, how he gets along with me ex, accidents at his job, his decisions regarding school in the fall, I am learning to worry less.
I have thought a lot about the power and the effects of worrying in the last few months. My son became argumentative, turned 18, didn’t like being told what to do. Got a $200 speeding ticket in MY car, while I was at his side warning him repeatedly. He was starting to hang with the wrong crowd and some bad habits were involved, some flirting with danger, even. He had one crisis that resulted in an ER visit. I did not like comments I found on his instant messages. But I raised him well…..says every good parent. Doesn’t matter. At some point they do things because we told them not to. Turning 18 brought some bad attitudes back in him. Luckily, he did get all his credits and was eligible to graduate. We won’t talk about the dual enrollment class he blew off….because he “didn’t need it to graduate.” He walked away from school and blew off the last day of classes which could have brought up two grades for him. I kept telling him to get a job and he kept saying, “I have a headache,” “I’m too stressed, let me wait until after graduation,” or the best, most annoying: “You can’t push me. It’s not motivating me.” Needless to say I worried a lot. Sometimes in arguments, he would say, “I’m not going to the graduation.” This was after I had sent out invitations and had family members making travel arrangements to be here for the event. Such emotional blackmail. He’d say that because he was tired of me getting after him about a job, cleaning his room, etc. The last few weeks he was here, I disapproved of his laptop addiction, and dropped it off at my boyfriend’s house. That was a little bit of worry off my shoulders. All this worrying was stressful. It made me tightly wound and sometimes I felt ready to explode. But what I did was more like imploding. I made forgetful mistakes, totally air-headed blunders that co-workers noticed (harmless, I swear!). I obviously needed a rest. I was worrying too much about what would happen, based on the things that had gone wrong in the preceding weeks. Yet, all that had gone wrong was a learning experience, and actually could have been good. It all depends on how you looked at it. I saw the negative, and feared more bad things to come.
I knew I would be so much better once the graduation actually happened. Yes, I got sick of my son, leading up to the event, but there was no way we would miss this culmination of so much hard work, frustration, and persistence…..on both our parts. Of course, he did Senior year all on his own. No tutors, no after school sessions. He did it. I always, unfailingly, told him he could do it. I deserved this celebration as much as he did. For him not to go to graduation would have hurt me deeply.
The day of graduation was intense and left lots of doors open for worry and anxiety. My father and brother were on the road and I’d have to meet them an hour before my son was due at the graduation venue, as they did not have the official entrance tickets yet. My ex-husband was here the night before and it was decided he would take my son to the “required” rehearsal that morning, downtown. One less thing off my plate. Instead of showing up at our house at 8 am as requested, he showed at 8:20. Stood outside talking to the neighbor in Spanish for 5-10 minutes. I respect our neighbor and chose not to interrupt. It gave my son time to find his socks and shoes. Still, a nagging worked at the back of my mind. Rehearsal time was 9 am. A graduate memo had stated doors would be locked at 9:20 and no one could enter after that. And this blasted man, that I used to be married to, was taking his sweet time. I finally opened the front door and just stood there. He finally came to the door and collected our son then left. My worry was working up a storm in my mind. Would they make it on time? There was nothing, nothing I could do about it now. So I was worrying. Worrying is probably defined, somewhere, as our attempt to control things or people that we CANNOT control or change. We just don’t want to give it up. Let me tell you, over the years, this inward storm of worry has caused emotional and physical havoc in me. I know this.
There is a writer I have just started reading; his name is Greg Braden, who writes about God, spirituality, and Science. The book is called The Divine Matrix. In the first chapter, he discusses other researchers and scientists and their theory that consciousness works on the ebb and flow of the whole universe and nature. Not that humans control it all, but we are part of it, as we have consciousness. So do animals, plants, all living things. He also says we are all part of one ebb and flow. Amazing, huh? In addition, he says that our consciousness causes living things to respond. I am seriously buying into this. Here is the problem I see. They do not always respond as we want them to. Hence, the destructive property of worry. Worry is so repetitive and seems to pick up power the more you entertain it. It has turned inward on me and caused anxiety, digestive issues, back and neck pain, etc., etc. Do you know how many illnesses are stress-related? If you are a teacher I am sure you have a good idea…..
So if our consciousness causes other people or living things to respond, and they do not respond as we wished, this can be very dangerous. Worrying never changed how another person reacted in my life. It only turned my intense concentration inward, and therein lies the power of negative thinking. Telling my teenager that he worried me only made him more intent on getting out of my house, finding his freedom, oh, and on not listening to me. Teens don’t like guilt. Who does, anyway? I have developed a theory ( probably already proposed by someone more important), that intense worry, when you really focus on it and give in to it, can really cause damage. It may not make the thing happen that you worried over, but it is going to damage the thinker. That is one disastrous possibility. And a part of me thinks that this storm in my mind may cause something else undesirable to happen. Maybe I’ve seen too many movies. But if damaging my mental state is the only negative outcome, that is still bad enough. As the writer says, consciousness affects the world around us. Our consciousness,is in many ways, our perception of the things around us. Which reminds me of perceiving the proverbial glass as either half-empty, or half-full. I’ve lived with worry all my life. When I was 20, my dad went in to AA for a drinking problem I only remembered when looking back. He took me to some meetings. I learned a lot from that. I also learned that worrying over someone else’s problem isn’t good for anyone, nor will it solve it. It interferes with your own growth as a person. I have known this a long time. Yet I still worry, and I constantly fight against it.
So there I was, 9 am the day of the graduation. Lying still on the floor. Taking deep breaths. I was incapable of doing anything else. I had to calm down. I knew I was too worried. Got a call from my ex. “Traffic is really bad. What time did you say they lock the doors?”
“At 9:20. Just GET him there! And call me when you all are there.” That gave me twenty more minutes to worry about this one little start of the day. Or to work on not worrying. Without rehearsal he could not attend graduation. But I had to stop thinking about that. Deep breaths, some stretching. I also said a few prayers…for them to get there safely, for my sanity. I had so many things to do that day. Looked out the window at the plants outside. Did NOT look at the clock. (That was hard). Lots of deep breaths. Never did I holler “Serenity Now!” In hindsight, that may have helped. :-) I did not want to go crazy with worry. I wanted the strength and clarity to face my day.
I finally got the call that they had made it! I was so relieved. So glad I had relaxed, and ready to go conquer the first thing on my to-do list. The day continued to test me. My ex called about the hotel he wanted to stay in, the same hotel my dad had made reservations at. It was closed due to water damage. My dad was still on the road and when he tried to call, they did not answer. I went and got my hair done anyway, then swung over there to see them personally. I put them on the phone with him and they arranged something at another hotel. I did not lose my temper with them. Maybe he did; I actually hope so. Then, I was informed my son needed a black tie 10 minutes before time to leave and get him to the Veteran’s Arena. I was not going to the mall. “A Goodwill tie will have to be good enough,” I said. (Thanks for telling me at the last minute!) Well, Goodwill saved the day for $3.20! We made it, a little late, but he wasn’t the latest. All of my son’s and my loved ones made it there eventually; at least I was on time. Giddy with excitement, I made my dad and my boyfriend laugh at me. Mom was giddy too, so we tried sign language instead of our loud, nervous, geeky excitement. My son got his diploma, wearing the ROTC stole and a cord indicating “College Ready.” This moment, all two hours of the program, was nothing but good, and it was worth all the hassle of the day. All of which I could handle only because I started the day by letting the worry go. I later told my dad what a stressful day it was. In typical form, he says, “What was so stressful?” I wanted to feel frustrated at that, you know, the lack of empathy, but I wasn’t going to let that upset my day. So I changed my stance. It had been a wonderful day; my son had graduated and we were surrounded by family. I smiled, and said, “Dad, today I solved every problem that came across my plate.” You see, it truly was a wonderful day.
May 9, 2016
Let’s Talk Book Clubs by Mae Clair: Rave Reviews Book Club #RRBC
A great idea!
Happy Saint Paddy’s Day!
Grab yourself something green and pull up a virtual seat. I’d like to talk book clubs.
If you’re a writer and/or a reader you’ve probably stumbled across several online book clubs that offer resources and networking. I’ve been doing the publishing game since 2012 and in the process have tried several. Sadly, none were a good fit. A few promised networking but ended up being little more than endless “buy my book” promos. I ditched those immediately. Others offered forums that never really matched what I was looking for, and one or two, while providing handy resources, lacked a sense of community.
*Sigh.*
I’d about given up on finding one that was a good fit, and then a friend (thank you, Craig Boyack) pointed me in the direction of Rave Reviews Book Club (RRBC) run by Nonnie Jules. Um…if there is a fairy Godmother of…
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