Amber L. Carter's Blog, page 83

It's a Double-Hummer Week. You must've done something reeaaaal nice.

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From Randy - It's still the Summer of Hummers!

In this issue, Dolores discusses how hummers can help you avoid STDs.

"Who You Are No Matter What"

Annie had spent most of the summer lying awake in her bed at night, waiting for her father to die. And now that he was dead, she still found herself laying awake for most of the night, this time wishing he would come back.

Annie's dog Davey shifted from her spot at the end of the bed as Annie rolled onto her side. The dim nightlight cast shadows on the wall, and Annie stared blankly as the shapes enlarged and then receded, Davey having finally settled down again.

Hardly anyone had come to the funeral – they had very few relatives, her father had lost touch with most of his friends, and she hadn't even told hers – and she didn't cry. Couldn't. There was no point in it. Her father hadn't even wanted her here this summer, not really, not until the end. Go back to your life, he told her. I didn't push you out just so you could come back, he joked.

They put him in the same room as Bobby. That was the one good thing she had done. Dr. Noble hadn't wanted to, told her it was very unorthodox, but in the way she had learned to cultivate with men her entire life, she simply stared him down until he agreed. The nurses thought it was the most wonderful idea. Like a small town parade, they triumphantly rolled her father down the hallway, into the elevator, and then into Bobby's room, gliding her father's bed in as if it were a routine for Stars For Ice. And so, for the last three weeks in August, there Annie stayed – sitting in a chair between the two beds, silent and watchful for which one of them might die first. Because wouldn't it just be the thing, if Bobby did, before Dad. That would just be really great, Annie thought to herself. That would just make all of this just perfect, then.

Annie had started out having a safe, normal life, with a safe, normal family. A mom and a dad who loved each other, and a brother who loved his little sister, which made her love him right back. An unfortunate accident in a canoe, a small tumor nestled somewhere within the left frontal lobe, and a mom who couldn't deal left just Annie. Just Annie, really.

Well, Annie and Bobby. But that was the worst of it. She hadn't had to worry, when her father was still here. He could take care of it, he told her, and so she hadn't had to worry. And what was the answer, she wondered. Should he die now. Could she keep him alive. And which of those did she want the most.

 - New story entitled, "Who You Are No Matter What"

Well, well, well...

Look who's a big famous media personality now...   It's our favorite commenter, KEVIN!
Kevin was chosen by MetroMix as one of the Top Tweeps of the Twin Cities. His particular title is "Twolitico." Which I will now be using constantly as a way to refer to him, as well as unabashedly soaking up any and all side-fame that comes my way thanks to his new trend-setting status.

#MetalFriday and a thing called, "reading."

So this morning on Twitter, I joined in with one of the coolest people I know - Charles K. Youel of Artcrank (@ARTCRANK) for #metalfriday. Or rather, I RT'ed something he tweeted about #metalfriday, and then he called me out to tweet something for #metalfriday, and once @ARTCRANK throws the #metalfriday gauntlet down, YOU DON'T BACK DOWN FROM THAT SHIT.

Anyway.

So since we were talking about Tool earlier on Twitter, I decided to post "Schism" by Tool as my #metalfriday pick. Also because it's A. It's fuckin' Tool and B., it's also the song that I basically wrote the entire Holiday Chick book around.
Yeah, you heard right. Can't be too much of a chicklit book if I basically wrote almost the entire premise around a Tool song, now can it? People who haven't read the book don't seem to really believe me that it's not just a book for angsty teen girls (or angsty grown women). That's why I struggled so much with the book description - if I were a guy, I don't think I'd read that and be all, "Hey, a girl has a lot of feelings and starts getting to know all these different guys...sounds like something I'd be down to read!" But, since the story is mainly about Aden, it was the most apt description that I could come up with for the book, and since you guys voted on it, it's sticking.

But, when I listen to songs like this and I remember exactly how the book evolved, it makes me want to share it with everyone. Because if I tried to do anything with the book, it was explore how different characters felt about the place they were in - from the angsty, slightly mysterious new girl to the guy you know from high school who's still skateboarding in the gas station parking lot  - during a specific time in young adulthood...and I wanted to explore what it takes to turn the people around us - the ones we see every day, the ones we grew up with, the ones we think we know everything about - into unpredictable, sometimes cruel, and maybe even dangerous spectors in our lives.

Also, this song is freaking hot (even though the scene I wrote for it? Not so hot. Maybe a little haunting, maybe a little dark - okay, a lot - but. Not hot), and it definitely played the biggest part in informing the intensity that's sewn into the entire story.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you like metal, you like Holiday Chick. And even if you don't, you like Holiday Chick.

The compass.

It didn't feel right.  But it was money. 
But it wasn't what I wanted to do. Be. Talk about. 
But it might get you more opportunities. 
But it feels cheap. And kind of gross. 
But if you close this door...

This was the conversation I kept having with myself, earlier this week. Sitting at the table in the cabin late one night, I kept going over it. The pros and cons. Or more to the point, I kept trying to rationalize while the cons should be pros.  I'm pretty good at listening to my gut. Following my instincts. I have a lot of feelings, and those feelings are strong...sometimes to the point of freak-out-where-is-this-coming-from-strong. Most of the time, I love this about myself...I love having such a strong inner compass that I can just look at something and instantly see the impact it's going to have on my life. The only time when I don't like it?  When I'm not actively listening to it.  I've been going around and around with trying to say this in the most eloquent way, but I'll just say it: I shouldn't have become a brand ambassador for Chevy. I told myself that I should do it because doing so would bring in more money (money, I told myself, that would allow me to do the things I really loved, like writing) and it could possibly open the doors for other opportunities that I did want.  But the offer was ironic for these reasons: I had just sat down a few days before and wrote out my vision of the kind of companies I wanted to work with in terms of branding, social media, and copywriting (companies that were progressive in their efforts to promote active living, environmental stewardship, sustainable development, and community involvement) and told myself that I would only give my time and energy to the kind of companies that fit these initiatives. I had also started working out a serious strategy for getting to the point where it was possible for me to live a more active and environmentally-friendly lifestyle by giving up my car and doing more things by bike.
And then along comes Chevy. 
It just didn't fit. And it wasn't about being a brand ambassdor or selling a brand...I'm not against that. I kind of feel like my whole life right now is selling a brand: Whether it's selling my book, selling Groucho, selling Cyber Dating Sidekick, even my volunteer gig, The Green Institute/ReUse Center, I'm actively involved in selling something - an experience, a product, a service, a message, a lifestyle. And when it comes down to it, all of them work right into my life purpose: To use my creativity, humor, and sense of empathy to inspire others to courageously live out their lives in deeply meaningful and beautiful ways. When Chevy came along, I knew instantly that this wasn't something that aligned with that purpose. But I ignored that red flag and made a commitment to them anyway, mostly because, initially, it seemed like a fun challenge to find new, creative ways to talk about a brand (and also, if I want a car company to be more fuel-efficient and use less resources, I feel strongly like that change is better affected from inside influence vs outside dissension). And also, money. I like money. It's hard for me to turn down money when I know there's a long list of good things that money can do - secure further freedom, buy gifts for those I love, provide payback to people who've helped me, be used for contributions to causes I care about. So yeah. When Chevy offered me money, I was like, "Well alright. I guess I like Chevy now." But it felt gross. Not because it's not a good brand, but because it wasn't a good brand for me. And tweeting about it, blogging about it...it made me cringe. I found myself writing an email about it to someone, and thinking, "I'm trying to overly explain to you that this isn't really me... When normally I'd write you and just feel like everything I'm saying perfectly reflects everything I'm about." And then I talked to my friend Carol from New York for four hours about aligning yourself with things you believe in, and then today, I found this in my inbox. It kind of felt like the universe kept hitting me in the face with stuff, like, "You get it now? Huh? You get it yet? DO YA?!" This whole year has been about doing good work, and doing it for the things I love and believe in. And if I'm giving my time and energy to the things I don't believe in, I have less of it to give to the things I do.So. I'm no longer a Chevy Girl. But I will say that, in the end, I'm glad I at least tried it out, and not just because of the valuable lessons I learned from it. Mostly, it's because of this.

Book Goal For Free Gift

The Anniversary Book Sale is now in full effect! And it's been super exciting, you guys.
Checking the tallies from yesterday, we only need to sell 20 more books (EDIT: As of 3:00 pm, 15 more books) to reach our goal for today!!
So if you've already bought a book and liked it (if you didn't like it, just sit there and be quiet), please spread the word to your friends today and tomorrow. People who do this kind of thing automatically get moved up to the top of my friendship list, and you get a permanent "This Person is FREAKING AWESOME" stamp on your face (in my mind), even if you do something another day that pisses me off.
And if you're one of the awesome that has bought a book yesterday and today, let's make this thing spread like wildfire so you can be one of those cool people who ends up having something that none of your friends have, thereby validating your little 14 year old heart.
I'm serious, though. The free gift has a lot of street cred. A lot a lot. 

Cheaters never win.

"You left me untethered, ungrounded, unsure, unanswered. Undone. Actually, you made me leave. And rather than blame you, I left you all the comforts of our nest and took just myself. So that I might pick up where you left off in the unraveling.

I wish I'd been kinder to me.

I wish you had too, but that notion seems superfluous from here.

Somewhere along the way, I realized you didn't actually leave me because of me. You left me for her. Which might have been worse.

For a long time, it hurt to even read Holly's name. For a while I thought I would like her, under different circumstances (say, ones in which you didn't start wooing and loving her while we still shared the same bed). But then, as I finally started walking out of that gulf and finding my footing on overdue anger, it consumed her too.

If you asked me late at night in a hard winter, I would tell you I hated her for a long time. For replacing me. For being what you wanted more than you wanted me. For being what I wasn't - maybe what would have kept you, I told myself. Casual and easy, athletic and slim as a reed and blond as a child.

I'd watch her and think, she must feel forgiving as hard fought freedom to you. Carefree and jubilant after me and my deep sad heart that feels everything too much. Me who can never not say what I am feeling, can never be satisfied, can never stop wondering and wandering and analyzing and pushing you and me and the whole great world to be More. Why couldn't I be so easy, I would wonder. WHY CAN'T I EVER JUST BE EASY? I would scream out to the red blur of traffic at night or to my therapist at 5 pm appointments for which I was always late and unexcited.

The other night, we got a beer, Holly and me. This woman who had been such a torturous reflection of how I fell short. And it felt better than ok, it felt like relief. Like finding land.

The day you delivered her verdict, I stopped hating her and started aching for her instead. When one of my twin nieces is hurt, the other cries. Doubles over and holds the same wrenched gut, the same malevolent tooth. That makes perfect sense to me and my wounds, burst open by empathy. I read about this good woman heaving on the office rooftop, secreted away to find five minutes to be broken under the heavy canopy of cloud cover, in this city that didn't slow down for either of our demises. And across town, I feel it.

 Over Surlys on a busy sidewalk on a humid night, we trade notes. All the things we never understood. Why didn't you ever take any of the outs we offered? If we weren't good enough, why did you spindle us back in? We unwrapped the facts we should have seen as secrets and not assuaged as baseless suspicions back then. The women you courted, the lies you told, the computers you locked down and the phone that vibrated with texts while we lay in dark beds, trying to decide if we were up for the punishment that came for asking. For not being cool enough to ignore it all. The first day you took her out, you sent me third anniversary flowers to work. I never knew that. You told her we broke up the night before, the night you were busy writing me a love note. She never knew the truth. (I close my eyes and repeat this like the answer I've been waiting for.) We discover how many of your lines are trademarked. Designed for maximum impact. There is no chance. No authenticity. It's enlightening  We laugh raucously in disbelief, which I should be able to from this distance because I have Come Through. But Holly, she's tougher than I was already. I admire her and tell her I wish I'd taken my own side like she is keeping hers.

It's freeing, you know? It takes a lot of energy to be so hurt by someone. To feel so inferior and be so angered by the sole fact that they must share an existence in your orbit. I am grateful to lay down my tired torch."

Go read the rest here.My friend Erica is one of the best people I know. She's loving and giving (and forgiving) and welcoming and she opens her deep, beautiful heart to those who need it, regardless of what may have occurred before. I love her so much.
I won't call people out on this blog. I could, and I really don't care what they or anyone might think about it. But I'm done doing that, I think. And if I call out one, then I have to call out the others, and then really, it becomes about me taking responsibility for shedding light on the things you're doing. But you know who you are. The thing is, when you treat women badly, it always comes out. Whether it's pathologically cheating on your wife or the narcissistic habit of texting the same "Last night I cried in the grocery store. This is so hard" msg to the last two girls you cheated on...I mean. It's out there. And you might think that you can keep it quiet with lies, intimidation, charm, threats, or even social outcasting...but it's coming for you. And you know it.

How the Bruins (and the world) got such a cool infographic that explained how they got a $156,679.74 bar tab.

Mayhaps you've seen this infographic before  -   And mayhaps you already know what a huge geek I am for infograpics of any kind. Why? Because they can make even the most boring information and data easily digestible and visually rad. 
So imagine my uber delight when I was scrolling through Facebook and realized that I know the guy who did the above infographic. And not only that, but I actually like him.
Personal background: Dan is married to Angela, one of the coolest girls I ever went to high school with. I first met Dan at the 10-year reunion. Not only was Dan super rad to talk to, but he earned huge lifetime cool points with the entire class when he and Angela went to the Woodshed to pick up some more kegs after we ran out halfway through the night (this is the class who seriously fought to have "'97 Kegger Kegger" as our graduating slogan). 
Professional background: LOOK at this stuff. He also does THIS. And he's local, you guys. And not only that, but he's super freaking cool. And he'll make a CUSTOM INFOGRAPHIC FOR YOU. Did I also mention that he's pretty cool? 

It's words.

[image error] Postertext takes words from your favorite book and makes a poster out of them. Though, here's hoping that most people are buying the Moby Dick poster because of the actual poster, and not because it's their favorite book.

Cause that book is BORRRING. 

(Thanks to David Erickson for the good word on this cool deal)

It's on. It's happening.

For the next 72 hours, you can get an AUTOGRAPHED, PRINT COPY of HOLIDAY CHICK for only $9.99. Not only is that 50% off the list price, but it's cheaper than you would ever find it in a bookstore. Or on Amazon.

AND, if 100 or more copies are sold during those 72 hours, EVERYONE who buys a copy gets a FREE GIFT.

And the free gift is super awesome, you guys.

It's the kind of gift that keeps on giving. And it would be near impossible to find it anywhere else.

So let's count it down: An autographed book. An autographed print book. An autographed print book for 10 bucks. An autographed print book for 10 bucks plus a free gift.

And let's just say this: If everyone who reads this post shares it, even if they're not planning on buying a copy, the 100 copies will be a s-n-a-p. It's 3 days, friends. And with your friends and my friends and that guy's friends...easy.

So go get yourself an awesome book - it's got angst and sex and accents and some violence and hot boys and wild parties and even some sports stuff in it (but cool sport stuff, like skateboarding) - and tell yer friends. And then you'll be my friend, and your friends will be my friends, and then THE WHOLE UNIVERSE WILL ALL BE FRIENDS.