Pat Bertram's Blog, page 212

My Salad Day

People who live alone, especially those who have such a state thrust on them because of the death of a spouse or life partner, often have trouble with meals. It seems silly to fix a meal for just one person — it’s so much easier to get take-out, heat frozen meals, or simply snack.

In my case, I usually choose to snack, eating finger foods such as cheese, ham without nitrates or nitrites, fruit, vegetables with dips, in addition to all the tasty non-nutritional foods that are so readily available. It took me a full year before I could fix some of our recipes. (“Our” recipes because we created the recipes.) We used to cook together, usually some sort of entrée and salads. Since our salads were large, elaborate affairs with all sorts of colorful vegetables, it took two of us — one to wash the produce and one to cut it up.

During the past three-and-a-half years, I have often made salads. For some reason, salads were one of the few foods that we prepared together that I could eat — instead of making me feel sad, it made me feel closer to him. Still, it’s hard to fix meals. I just don’t want the fuss, so I revert to snacking.

Deciding to put an end to snacking, at least temporarily, I spent the morning making enough salads to last for several days. It was a great morning — just me and all those colorful vegetables. Now I need to make sure I eat them.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: fixing meals after the death of a spouse, salads, snacking

Wishing You A Day Filled With Light And Lightness Of Being

The internet, especially the social networks, has made me aware of the entire world, not just my local hemisphere. (That’s a phrase you don’t hear everyday — “my local hemisphere”. ) I used to think today, the winter solstice, was a natural day of celebration since it signifies the end of the creeping darkness. For the past six months, ever since the summer solstice, darkness has been creeping into our days and stealing our light. Today we have reached the end. Tomorrow the light begins to grow, but only in the northern hemisphere. Down under, they begin a time of creeping darkness.

Still, since I live in the northern hemisphere, this is a day to celebrate the growing of the light.

Wishing you a day filled with light and lightness of being.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: growing light, northern hemisphere, southern hemisphere, winter solstice

Happy 100th Anniversary of the Crossword Puzzle

To honor the 100th anniversary of the crossword puzzle:

Down

1. Name of Pat Bertram’s blog (2 words)

2. Prose that describes imaginary events and people

5. Author of A Spark of Heavenly Fire, More Deaths Than One, Light Bringer, and Daughter Am I (2 words)

8. Pat Bertram’s publisher (2 words)

10. The country where Bob Stark from More Deaths Than One lived for eighteen years

12. The treasure that Mary Stuart searched for in Daughter Am I

16. A written or printed work consisting of pages glued or sewn together along one side and bound in covers

Across

3. A formal assessment of a work

4. A person who has written a particular work

6. A fictional person

7. Death notice; the piece in the newspaper that catapulted Bob Stark onto his journey for self-discovery in More Deaths Than One

9. The interrelated sequence of events in a work of fiction

11. Category of a novel

13. The state that was quarantined in A Spark of Heavenly Fire

14. Archaic word processing instrument with delete capabilities

15. A book-length work of fiction

17. A person who uses penned or typed words to communicate ideas or tell stories

18. An electronic version of a book

19. Relationship of James Angus Stuart to Mary Stuart in Daughter Am I

Anyone who solves this puzzle will receive a coupon for a free ecopy of one of my books at Smashwords.com. Your choice of title! Send your responses to secondwindpublishing@gmail.com. Offer expires December 31, 2013.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: crossword puzzle, Pat Bertram's crossword puzzle

Agonizing Decisions that Take Us Nowhere

Sometimes the most agonizing decisions — decisions that are supposed to take us in a new direction — end up taking us nowhere at all, and we wonder why the decision was so difficult.

As I mentioned before, a friend talked me into joining an online dating site. I didn’t want to do it — I’m not ready for any sort of serious relationship, and maybe never will be. I’m still getting to know this new “alone” me. She pointed out that I didn’t have to sign up to meet a new life mate, but could specify “friendship.” That seemed reasonable. I am always interested in making new friends. And since I spend so much time alone, I especially appreciate having people to do things with.

Still, it took an entire sleepless night three weeks ago to make the decision. And it was the sleeplessness that in the end made me realize I should take the step. If the decision was so unimaginable that I couldn’t get my mind around it, I figured it would be good for me to make that leap. I know what is imaginable. I’ve imagined it. But a whole world lies beyond my imaginings, and to get where I need to go (a place that is as yet undefined since it lies in the realm of the unimagined), I need to do the unimaginable.

So, I signed up. Spent a lot of time working on my profile. Told my current truth as well as I knew it and as charmingly as I could. In one of the sections I wrote:

I am happy, kind, confident, intelligent. I smile a lot, laugh easily, seldom get angry, and appreciate those same qualities in others. More than anything, I love learning, meeting new people, sampling new foods, trying new activities. The desert fascinates me, so I spend a lot of time hiking in the nearby knolls.

I’ve lived a quiet life — mostly reading, crafts, watching movies, writing. Now I’m interested in being more active and trying out all the things I haven’t had a chance to do before — dancing, bowling, miniature golf, hiking, archery, whatever comes to mind. I’d like to lead a more adventuresome life in a non-perilous sort of way. Even going to lunch somewhere I’ve never been could be such an adventure. What would make all this more fun is to have someone to be adventuresome with.

I’d planned to blog about my encounters, both online and offline, in case there were other older people out there taking a hesitant dip into the dating pool, but there have been no encounters. I figured the site would be like a social networking site, where people messaged each other, trying to get a dialogue going, but nothing is going on except that several dozen people have checked out my profile. Like a middle school dance, the boys seem to be milling around, checking out the girls, while the girls just stand there, trying not to be caught checking out the boys but hoping someone will notice them.

Since I’m not one to just stand around and wait (at least, not anymore), I’ve written dozens of messages, but no one responded. It’s possible the men on the site aren’t computer savvy and don’t know how to respond. It’s possible they aren’t interested. It’s possible they are waiting for inspiration or waiting to fall in love with a photo. I have no idea since no one is talking.

To be honest, I’m okay with this. I don’t particularly want to date, don’t want to flirt with the possibility of falling in love. I do feel silly, though, about spending a sleepless night, steeling myself to make what turned out to be such a non-momentous decision, but perhaps the decision was the important step, and what has come after is trivial.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: dating, dating after the death of a spouse, making decisions, online dating

Getting Google Traffic to Grow Your Blog

I’ve been receiving blogging hints via email from some blogging guru for the past couple of weeks. First, he sent an article telling me how to drive traffic to my blog from Facebook. Apparently, that is why most bloggers join FB — to get more traffic for their blogs.

If you wish to get people on FB to check out your blogs, the guru said: 1) use large images since large images get 125% more traffic than posts without images. 2) Use short teasers in your status updates, sort like you do with Twitter. And 3) Ask questions. By engaging people in conversation, you get more likes and shares, and FB analytics then kicks in and gives you more exposure.

That’s great advice, but the very next email I got from these same guy said that using social networks to grow your blogs is overrated, so limit your social networking to thirty minutes a day. Instead, grow your blog through Google. You get way more traffic and you don’t even have to spend time socializing or sharing your content. This is true — most of my traffic comes from various search engines, which is why my top posts always include my article Sex With Sister Tips. Um…Yeah because apparently, a huge number of people seem to want to have s e x with their sister. And in December, my highest ranked post is always What Do You Say to Someone Who is Grieving at Christmas? because of all the people Googling that particular topic.

His suggestions on the best way to get Google traffic:

1) Pick a niche for your blog — the narrower the better — and stick to it. Apparently, the more focused your blog, the more Google focuses on it. In other words, don’t do what I do — write about whatever catches my attention. At the beginning, my blog was focused on writing, specifically, what I learned about writing and how my search to get published was progressing. Then, after my life mate/soul mate died, I focused on grief. Now, I’m focusing on getting on with my life (though oddly, people are less interested in how I’m rebuilding my life than they were in its destruction.) So I suppose, if I had to describe my niche, I’d have to say it’s me. You don’t get much more focused than that since there is only one me in the world!

2) Consistently write high quality interesting blog posts. Your posts should be longer than 500 words. 1,000 word posts will ultimately get you more traffic provided you stay focused. Quality matters because Google is measuring time spent on pages and click throughs from social sites. Use fewer tags but make sure they  are “right on target” with the tagged post. Include Youtube or other videos on your posts so that users stay on your pages longer. (My posts average around 500 words, because no matter who Google sends, chances are they aren’t going to read more than that, anyway.)

3) Search Engine Optimization. Basically, if you use WordPress as I do, they do the SEO for you, but if you want to get the most use out of your keywords, you can find that information here: On-Page SEO and Keyword Usage.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: blog niche, getting more blog traffic, growing your blog, how long should a blog post be, using google to promote your blog

Perpetuating the Santa Claus Myth

I don’t understand the whole Santa Claus thing. Well, from a commercial point I do. Since Christmas has expanded way beyond a holiday to celebrate the birth of Christ, big business needs a secular figure to personalize the day and make it special enough that people will spend money they don’t have on gifts. But other than that, no — I don’t get it.

I especially don’t understand why parents perpetuate the myth that there is a Santa Claus. Many adults remember how betrayed they felt when they realized there was no such person living at the North Pole and dispensing gifts from a reindeer-driven sleigh, so why would they teach their children the same lie? To make the wonder of the season more wondrous? But the season is already radiantly wonderful with lights and gifts and delicious once-a-year treats. And it’s especially aglow for Christians as they celebrate the birth of the Son of God.

I loved Christmas as much as any child, and I never believed in Santa Claus as a living entity — my mother was too pragmatic for that. It seems to me that most kids I knew weren’t taught to believe in a cartoonish jolly old St. Nick. We knew the real story of St. Nicholas (or at least the real legend.) We knew he was a Greek bishop and that he supposedly had a habit of passing out gold coins. Because of this, we believed the spirit of Christmas was generosity. We gave what gifts we could. We knew who gave us each of the gifts we received, and if we forgot, our parents reminded us when it came time to write thank you notes. Those thank-you notes were part of the season. Though they seemed laborious at the time, penning those notes taught us that the gifts were not a right but a blessing. It seems that a belief in Santa Claus fosters greed — a belief that we deserve gifts as a reward for being good, which is so not the spirit of Christmas.

I once saw a soldier talk about this very thing. He said that he had been a soldier in Vietnam. Although it felt like a war, and people died like in a war, technically it wasn’t a war — they weren’t allowed to win, only to occupy. They’d battle their way to the top of a hill then, when they’d gained the territory, they’d retreat, only to take the hill once more, or another like it.

One day as they sat on a hill they had just taken, he asked his buddies about the most disillusioning moments in their lives. He expected a heavy discussion on the absurdities of the war, or the shock of getting drafted, or the monumental stupidity of the military, but they all said the most disillusioning moment in their lives was discovering that Santa Claus didn’t exist.

And yet, people are still teaching their children that Santa is real. It’s amazing to me that children ever trust their parents after that.

On the other hand, considering how often life disillusions us, perhaps being disillusioned over something as innocuous as the Santa Claus myth is a good thing.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: disillusioned by Santa Claus, Jolly Old St. Nick, lies parents tell children, St; Nicholas, the Santa Claus myth, why teach children that Santa is real

Excerpt From More Deaths Than One

Yesterday, while searching More Deaths Than One for references to the scent of frangipani for my post Justifying Our Sex Scenes, I happened to find the passage below. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at the book, the story seemed fresh and new, and something I’d be interested in reading. (Which, actually, is why I wrote the book — to write something I’d like to read.) Note: ISI is Information Services, Incorporated, a corporation with ties to US intelligence agencies.

Description: Bob Stark returns to Denver after 18 years in SE Asia to discover that the mother he buried before he left is dead again. At her new funeral, he sees . . . himself. Is his other self a hoaxer, or is something more sinister going on?

Excerpt:

“Here, put this on.” Bob held out a brown two-inch-wide belt.

Kerry lifted her shirt and showed him the waistband of her dark cotton slacks. “It’s elastic, see? I don’t need a belt.”

“It’s a money-belt. I got two of them yesterday, one for me and one for you. There’s ninety-five hundred dollars in each of them—”

“Ninety-five hundred dollars?” Her eyes grew round. “In cash?”

“Yes. I would have liked to get more, but that’s all we’re allowed to bring into the United States without having to fill out forms, and in our situation, that can get sticky.”

“What would happen if we brought in more than that and didn’t declare it?”

“Maybe nothing unless we got caught, but since we’re traveling with fake IDs, I’d prefer not to complicate matters. When the problem with ISI goes away, I can have some of my money wired to an account in Colorado or wherever.”

“Just some? Not all?”

“It’s safe where it is.” When she gave him a narrow-eyed look, he laughed. “I don’t seem to be able to keep anything from you. It’s in a private bank in Chinatown. Hsiang-li sponsored me, otherwise I’d have to use the same banks as everyone else, and ISI would probably have found my account by now.”

“Wouldn’t ISI have already traced the bank through your traveler’s checks?”

“My bank doesn’t offer that service. I paid cash for them at another bank that does, and since they don’t know me, that’s a dead end for ISI.”

Becoming aware he still held out the money-belt, he said, “Well, are you going to put it on?”

She took it from him, fastened it around her waist, and smoothed her shirt over it. Turning sideways to look in the mirror, she asked, “Does it make me look fat?”

“I don’t even notice it.”

She gave him a laughing glance. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to run off with your money?”

“No. In fact, you can have it.”

She looked at him aghast. “I can’t take your money.” Reaching under her shirt, she started to remove the belt.

He put a hand on her arm. “Keep it for now. If we get separated, or if anything happens to me, you’ll need it to get back home.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she said fiercely.

He nodded as if he agreed and did not mention the sense of foreboding that made his shoulder blades itch.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: excerpt, More Deaths Than One, More Deaths Than One excerpt

Justifying Our Sex Scenes

Lazarus Barnhill, a fellow author at Second Wind Publishing, is planning to rerelease his novels to include the sex scenes he removed for the sake of keeping the familial peace. I understand why he wants to include the scenes — he wishes to reclaim his literary perogative and publish the books the way he wrote them, which is as it should be. Besides, with the scenes included, the books will probably go viral.

Though I wouldn’t admit it to him, I like the books the way they are now, with the focus more on the mystery in The Medicine People and the romance in the Lacey Took a Holiday. The truth is, I’ve never been fond of sex scenes. I read for mental titillation — expanding my mind, letting my thoughts wander into the realms of what if — and sex scenes leave little scope for such meanderings.

Despite that, I did write one very graphic sex scene for my first book More Deaths Than One. The scene appalled my father (by then my mother was gone, so I never got to hear her words on the subject. Whew!), but that was an important scene in the book.

The story is about a man who is so ordinary he almost seems invisible. Everyone assumes they know him, seeing him as a reflection of themselves. And yet, he has hidden depths that only one woman, Kerry, managed to see. As Kerry told Bob, trying to explain why he interested her, “I’d like to say it’s because you have hidden depths, but your depths aren’t hidden, they’re obvious.” She chuckled. “Maybe you have hidden shallows.”

The graphic sex scene wasn’t with Kerry, though eventually they did make love. The scene was with Bob and another woman, a woman who taught him about prolonging the pleasure and satisfying a woman. If you didn’t know why Bob had such a talent, it would have been unbelievable when you discovered that such a seemingly weak man would have such discipline. The scene also set up the love scene with Kerry. The scent of frangipani had always reminded him of that first woman, and yet when he and Kerry finally got together, he realized that from now on, whenever he caught a whiff of that scent, it would remind him of Kerry, of the teasing look in her eyes, of the moment he fell in love with her. (But then, don’t we all justify our sex scenes as important to the book?)

Oddly, each of my novels had less sex in that the previous one, and the last one had none. It’s hard to write sex scenes that are consistently new and fresh, and I’d said it all in that first book.

Someone dared me once to write an erotic novel, and I even accepted the dare, at least verbally, but I doubt I will ever write the book. The only reason I can see for writing is to write what only I can write, and it’s hard to bring individuality to sex scenes. (Which is probably why bondage and masochism are so prevalent right now — they are different from what people are used to.) Still, I’m young in author terms. I’ve only written five books. Anything could linger in all those as unwritten books of mine!

As for Lazarus Barnhill’s books, I’m keeping the versions I have for now. When he gets rich and famous, those expurgated copies will be worth a fortune, and I will be set for life!

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: frangipani, Lacey Took a Holiday, Lazarus Barnhill, More Deaths Than One, sex scenes, the Medicine People

Gifts Worth Treasuring

For the most part, I’m finished with grief (at least as finished as I will ever be). Still, sometimes grief comes to visit once again, taking me completely by surprise. I was at a Christmas party today (my second one this week! I’m turning into a party animal). It was with people from my exercise group, and we had one of those white elephant gift exchanges where people brought a gift that would be given anonymously to another guest. The presents were all in a pile, and when our number was called, we went to pick out a gift, so the gift I chose wasn’t geared toward me. It was just an unspecified gift from an unnamed giver.

When I opened it, I found a picture frame, which would have been okay, but it was meant as a memorial for someone who had died, and was inscribed with a long tackily sentimental poem/prayer about God taking the person too soon. Tears came to my eyes. I was stunned that someone would give such a gift at Christmas to a stranger, and distressed that I got it. Up until then, it had been a festive afternoon. I was in a small group with a couple of women I knew and two I hadn’t met before but enjoyed talking with. We’d spent a lighthearted couple of hours, and the reminder of my life mate/soul mate’s death at such a time took my breath away.

I showed the women the frame, then set it upside down on the table. A few minutes later I looked at it again, wondering if I had overreacted. But I teared up once more. One of the women took the frame out of my hand and replaced it upside down on the table, saying, “I bet you’re one of those people who pick at sores, too.” We laughed. And there the frame stayed. When I left, one of the women hugged me and said she’d take care of it for me.

If I hadn’t lost someone, it would have been a curiosity, would maybe even have elicited a laugh at such a thoughtless donation. As it is, I not only feel sad that he’s gone, I feel bad that I was such a poor sport. But such are the ways of grief — we don’t always act the way we would want to when reminders of our loss take us unaware.

The best thing about the situation was the caring response from the women I was with, and the laughter they brought to the occasion. Those are truly gifts worth treasuring.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: Christmas party and grief, gift of laughter, white elephant gift

Happy Friday the 12Ath!

I have no particular opinion or fear about thirteen or Friday or Friday the thirteenth, though I do find a lot of irony associated with the avoidance of thirteen. For example, buildings with more than 13 floors don’t call the 13th floor the 13th floor, but instead skip the number and go directly to the 14th floor or call it 12A. It’s still the 13th floor, right? So do people simply fear the number rather than the actual floor? And if they fear the number, do they refuse to buy baker’s dozens of donuts or cookies? (Though perhaps that is dating me — I don’t think I’ve come across a baker’s dozen of anything in a long time.) And if it’s the number thirteen they fear, why is only Friday the thirteeth a fearful day? I realize it’s the conjunction of fateful Friday and the ominous number that causes friggatriskaidekaphobia, but still, for those with the simpler case of triskaidekaphobia, wouldn’t any thirteenth day of the month be cause for concern?

(Interesting side note — in many Spanish speaking countries, Tuesday the thirteenth is the unlucky day, so for them, the movie Friday the Thirteenth was renamed Tuesday the Thirteenth.)

If Friday the thirteenth were really an unlucky day as more than 20 million Americans believe, to be on the safe side, shouldn’t the calendar makers follow the example of builders and call change all 13s that fall on a Friday to 14 or maybe even 12A? And speaking of calendars, our current calendar was not universally adopted in Europe until the eighteenth century. So is our current Friday the thirteenth the real Friday the thirteenth? Wouldn’t the day fall on other dates using other calendars?

Today is an especially interesting day considering that it’s exactly thirteen weeks since the last Friday the thirteenth in this year of twenty-thirteen, but I don’t know if that makes it more it a more dire day or simply a matter of curiosity.

Whether or not you believe that Friday the thirteenth is bad luck (and if you do, please forgive my levity), I hope you have a fearfully wonderful day.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Tagged: 13th floor, Friday the 13th, friggatriskaidekaphobia, triskaidekaphobia, Tuesday the 13th