Sonia Marsh's Blog, page 33

The Used Car From Hell

The Used Car From Hell

“Mom, my car just died,” Josh, my eighteen-year-old son texted me at 4:37 pm, last Monday.

“Where are you?”

“About 80 miles outside Phoenix. Not sure. No signs.”

Why the hell didn’t my husband return this damn car to the dealer?

Duke said he test-drove it, checked the various things you’re supposed to check on a used car, and on the 50-mile drive home, the oil-change light flashed bright red.

To me that’s a clear message: “Warning, I’m a problem car. I just pretended to work while you drove me a couple of miles around the dealership.”

So Duke drove this 2003 Nissan X-Terra, with 60,000 miles on it, straight to Don, our mechanic in Orange County.

Don checked the oil and flushed the engine, which happened to have metal shavings in it.

I don’t know much about engines, but metal shavings don’t sound healthy in your engine.

“Drive it around for a couple of hours and I’ll flush the engine again first things in the morning,” Don said.

At least Josh will get two hours of training on how to drive a stick shift.

Did I forget to mention this car has a manual transmission, and our son has never driven a stick shift before?

As with many decisions in our family, we tend to procrastinate; then at the last minute, we take action. It’s not like we hadn’t looked at car ads during the Christmas holidays; we just hadn’t found anything affordable, with low mileage. Plus Josh wanted a used truck with a V8 engine, to which Duke and I said, “Absolutely not.”

I offered Josh my 2007 Kia Rio, with 67,000 miles, but my husband agreed my car was not suitable for driving long stretches in New Mexico where powerful gusts of desert wind can lift your car off the road. How do I know? I rented a Kia Rio just like my own when I visited Josh, and my rental almost blew off the road to Roswell. Perhaps the aliens saw me coming, who knows.

The following morning, which happened to be the Friday before Josh’s National Guard training, Don opened his garage early in order to flush the engine one more time before Josh headed out.

I climbed onto the passenger seat and asked Josh to practice changing gears down our street. I wanted reassurance before his 800-mile drive.

My first impression was not good. A musty smell hit my nostrils and a collection of crumbs, dry grass and other stuff you find underneath your shoes covered the gray floor mats. How come the dealer sold a dirty car? Hadn’t Duke noticed?

Josh turned on the engine and it sounded like an old smoker clearing out his lungs. He tried to press down on the clutch, and put it into first gear, but he couldn’t.

“Let me try,” I said.

We changed seats and I had the same problem. The gear wouldn’t engage.

I ran inside for assistance. Duke was getting dressed for work.

“Looks like the clutch is gone,” Duke said.

He succeeded in thrusting the stick-shift into second gear and I followed him to Don’s shop in my reliable Kia Rio.

“The clutch could probably have lasted another year, but with Josh learning how to change gears, I’m not surprised,” Duke said. “Book him on a flight.”

I debated whether or not to book Josh on a flight. He desperately needed a car to get to his training, plus the freezing temperatures and icy road conditions, made riding his bike hazardous.

Don said it would take all day to replace the clutch, and re-flush the engine.

“I’ll leave tonight,” Josh said.

The car was ready for pick-up at 6pm. I met Duke at the repair shop and almost fainted at the cost of a new clutch.

“Aren’t you going to call and yell at the dealer?” I asked Duke. “Ron says we have 72 hours to return the car, and since it’s a piece of crap, we need to return it now.”

“It’s all fixed and ready to go. Josh can leave tomorrow morning and I’ll call the dealer over the weekend.”

Josh insisted on leaving right away, but we managed to convince him to leave the following morning.

I packed enough water bottles to last him a week, a turkey, cheese sandwich, three apples and five protein bars. Josh climbed inside his car, programmed the GPS on his phone—at least that reassured me a tad—and as I waved goodbye, my son tried his best to make a smooth start in first gear. I felt a sense of relief, knowing he had a GPS and AAA.

Six hours later, Duke sent me a text message that Josh’s engine wouldn’t accelerate. He pulled over and after checking the oil level, the engine wouldn’t start.

I left Duke in charge.

After several hours sitting in his car, AAA finally showed up from Phoenix. Duke located, and called the closest garage in a town that sounded like Salami, Arizona, where AAA towed his car.

By now, it was after 6pm., and the garage was closed.

“Mom, I’ll sleep in the car,” Josh texted me.

I called him back and his voice kept cutting out.

“Some guy is …. up,” Josh said.

Now, my vivid imagination took over and I started thinking he might get shot.

“We’ll call a taxi to come and pick you up.”

Duke listened to me and rolled his eyes.

“There are no taxis in this small town,” he said.

“What’s the name again?” I asked.

“Salami, or something like that,” Duke said.

I Googled places that sounded like Salami in Arizona, and found Salome.

“Does that sound like the place?”

“Yes,” Duke said.

“There’s a motel and I’m sure they’ll pick him up.”

Duke called the motel, and the owner said, ‘Tell your son I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Knowing that Josh was now warm and had a bed for the night, I could fall asleep.

“The garage says I need a new engine,” Josh told us the following morning.

What now?

Thankfully, the garage owner’s wife agreed to drive Josh to Phoenix airport where he purchased a ticket to Albuquerque. By now, he had missed his training, and we needed to get the car back to California.

After owning this car for four days, I calculated all the extra money we have spent, and to top it off, we had the extra expense of getting the car back to the dealer in Los Angeles.

“Duke, I hope you give the dealer hell,” I said.

Josh’s car is now back at the dealers, and we’re waiting for a replacement engine.

Who knows how this will end.

Do you have a used car horror story?

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

This January we have two stories from Mary Gottschalk, and Christine Lewry. Monday, January 21st, we shall feature Michael Jay’s Story.

Voting for your favorite January 2013 “My Gutsy Story®” will start on Janusry 31st and end on February 13th. Don’t forget to read all 4 of them and vote.

 

 

 

 

 

“My Gutsy Story®” Christine Lewry

 

 ”Thin Wire”

I felt the lump again. ‘It’s probably nothing,’ I said out loud. It wasn’t a hard lump but a knot of soft tissue under my arm. A wave of overwhelming doom made my knees buckle, I sat back on the bed.

I rang the doctors’ surgery. ‘Is it an emergency?’ the receptionist asked.

I thought for a moment. Is it?

‘Well … yes,’ I replied. She gave me an appointment for later that day. I wandered about the house, kept looking at the clock, didn’t get anything done.

‘I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,’ the doctor smiled. ‘But I’ll send you for a mammogram.’

My husband, Tony, came with me for the mammogram. We sat in a comfortable pink waiting room and read the newspapers. He made a cappuccino from the machine. The nurse’s hands were round and warm as she squeezed my breasts into the X-ray machine. ‘I’ll show these to Dr Wainwright,’ she said. I got dressed and returned to my newspaper – I didn’t want to look at the frightened faces of the other patients.

‘Doctor wants to do an ultrasound,’ the nurse with the warm hands said.

I lay on a narrow bed while Dr Wainwright squeezed cool gel on my chest and ran the ultrasound probe over it. The room was dark apart from the faint glow from her computer. Shadows fell on the walls like ghosts in the night.

‘There,’ she pointed to a haze of white on the screen. ‘I’ll do a biopsy, then we’ll organise a taxi to take it to the lab.’

Tony stayed home with me until the hospital rang. ‘Very sorry, but you have breast cancer.’ The words sounded so trivial and yet so profound and life changing. I tried to stay positive. Anyway, what could I do? Break down? Scream? I had to hold on tight to the belief that I was going to be alright.

The morning of my operation, Dr Wainwright and the surgeon gathered around my bed. ‘We’re going to do a larger operation than we originally planned,’ Dr Wainwright said. ‘We’ve decided to take the lymph nodes from under your arm, in addition to the lumpectomy. The lymph nodes are used to diagnose whether the cancer has spread outside the lump.’

I signed the form, leaving it to them to do whatever they thought might save me.

The next day my surgeon came to see me. He smoothed out the starched sheet and sat on my bed. ‘I’ve got the results of the lymph node biopsy. I’m afraid it’s bad news,’ he said. ‘Of the twelve lymph nodes I removed, six have cancer. I’ll arrange for you to see an oncologist. I expect he’ll recommend chemotherapy.’

I turned over and stared at the wall, waiting for Tony to arrive. My life was slipping away, like grains of sand falling through my fingers. The thought that I had cancer spreading through my body was terrifying. What if I died leaving my children without a mother? They were so young that there would come a time when they wouldn’t even remember me. I would be that photograph smiling back from the mantelpiece, a sad remnant of a woman who died long ago, never moved or put away since she left.

The oncologist talked in percentages and statistics, about improvements in life expectancy of five or ten years, his voice set in a monotone devoid of hope or compassion. What bloody good was five or ten years? I wanted to live, not wait it out. I wasn’t going to take on his fear or negativity.

The chemotherapy made me feel sick. I tasted its bitterness in the delicate lining of my nose and at the back of my throat. It made me feel like every cell in my body had been poisoned and that I had the most dreadful hangover, yet I hadn’t even had a glass of wine.

Mentally I had to pace myself. Six times, once every three weeks. I could manage that. I counted them off. Still, it was hard for me when all the hair on the top of my head fell out despite the torture of the cold caps. I always did care too much about my appearance.

Christine Lewry hair growing back after chemotherapy.

‘Do you love me?’ I asked Tony whilst having the pinky-red chemotherapy dripped into my veins. The anti-sickness medication made me constipated for days and I became frail and weak. The more ill I became, the more I thought that if I died he might find a new wife; someone younger, thinner, better than me.

When my treatment finished, I was cast adrift. All the time I had been having hospital appointments, chemotherapy or radiotherapy I had been doing something positive to fight the disease. Now I floated about, waiting to see whether I would sink or swim.

I got myself a wig and went back to work.  The boss came in to speak to me – a rare man who emanated kindness. ‘I had cancer some years ago,’ he said. ‘It changed me, made me a better person. I know it’s hard but you’ll be glad one day you’ve been through this, it’ll change you too.’

I smiled and I looked away. What good could ever come from thinking you might die?

Sitting in my office in the late afternoon, I noticed the rain trickling down the window. The sky was grey and the darkness came on earlier than usual

I thought about what he had said, and realised that cancer had changed me. The whole experience had made me stronger inside, as if I could cope with anything. The money and possessions I had, all the stuff, it meant nothing to me. The only thing that mattered was the people I loved.

I had a feeling that some destiny awaited me; that my life was mapped out in some way, and maybe when that destiny caught up with me, I’d remember about the cancer and things wouldn’t seem so bad.

Christine Lewry Bio:

Christine Lewry lives in Hampshire, England, with her husband and two youngest children. She worked in the defence industry as a finance director for twenty years before leaving to write full-time. Thin Wire: A mother’s journey through her daughter’s heroin addiction (Amazon Kindle US) or (Amazon UK) (memoir) is her first book. She now hopes to write a novel.

 

 

 

 

Please visit Christine’s website, follow her on Twitter@christinelewry, and on Facebook, and on Goodreads.

Amber, and me now (she’s pregnant in the photo, gave birth to a boy last November and she was the heroin addict)

Sonia Marsh Says: Christine, what an honest and open account of what it’s like to go through the various stages of cancer from detecting a lump, waiting for biopsy results, then surgery and chemotherapy.  I connected with you describing all the emotions you went through during the various stages. Your writing is open and honest and your positive message, made me realize that there are always lessons to be learned from every situation in life, even the ones we fear the most.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

 

 

Barbara DeMarco-Barrett Interviews Indie Authors on KUCI 88.9FM

Barbara DeMarco Barrett at KUCI 88.9FM

Barbara DeMarco Barrett, author, host of the Pen on Fire speaker series and radio host of Writers on Writing at KUCI 88.9FM, admits she was reluctant to invite “self-published” or as I prefer to call us, “indie-authors” to her show.

I don’t blame her. She has, after all, interviewed several famous, traditionally published authors on her radio show, “Writers on Writing” since its inception in 2001. For example, Margaret Atwood was on her show yesterday, and previous guests such as Billy Collins, Michael Chabon and John Irving.

When asked why she decided to interview indie-authors? Here’s her response.

I wanted to have an indie author show because times, they are a changin’ …. self-publishing is turning a corner and it’s interesting, watching this evolution, how the context of writing is changing as is the content somewhat—as I talked about with Atwood yesterday, the serialized novel is returning (Byliner.com) and ebooks and graphic memoirs are being published more and more. Who knows what’s next or what will take hold?  So with indie authors…writers are no longer so dependent on agents and editors and publishers, and that’s a good thing (and a bad thing, for it undercuts the patience an author needs to put out a work of quality). In short, self-publishing is a mixed bag, but the conversation has begun and is worth revisiting and exploring.

Together with her co-host Marrie Stone, Barbara has interviewed authors of all genres, including agents, with the goal of helping writers learn the art and craft of writing.

Nancy Klann-Moren and Charlie Leister

So when Barbara, one of my first mentors on writing, agreed to interview four indie-published authors on her January 2nd, 2013 show, I was thrilled to be a guest.

The stigma attached to being an indie-author is no longer what it used to be. The public is now aware of successful indie-authors like Amanda Hocking, or even J. K. Rowling who decided to sell the e-book versions of the Harry Potter on her website.

Sonia Marsh, Charlie Leister, Nancy Klann-Moren and our host, Barbara DeMarco-Barrett at KUCI-88.9FM

To kick-off the New Year, Barbara invited four indie-authors to her first “Writers on Writing” show of 2013.  Mary Castillo joined us from Carmel, California, over the phone, while Nancy Klann-Moren, Charlie Leister and myself, Sonia Marsh, sat in the KUCI 88.9FM radio studio in Irvine, California.

After introducing all four of us, we each talked about our books and read a short excerpt. We discussed the following topics.

Indie-Publishing (How? Set up your own publishing company-vs. other ways)
Cover design, formatting, Outsourcing vs. DIY
Distribution- How do you get your book into bookstores?
Events-How to book them
Virtual blog tours
Book trailers
How to get reviews
Paid Reviews (Kirkus) and others
Goals for next book

You can download the entire podcast here, as well as browse the archives from previous shows on Barbara DeMarco-Barrett’s “Writers on Writing” website.

Mary Castillo brought up an interesting point. Her book sales have dramatically increased since she posted a book trailer on her Amazon page.

This is something I have not tried, and noticed that Barbara DeMarco-Barrett, now has a trailer for her book Pen On Fire on her own website.

I asked Barbara who made her trailer, and she mentioned, her son Travis together with Don (The Newport Brothers.)

If you’re interested  (The Newport Brothers) can be contacted through Travis at sivart86@earthlink.net or at 949 554 9422 for book trailers.

If you have questions regarding indie-publishing, please feel free to contact me at sonia@soniamarsh.com, and remember we have a Gutsy Indie Publishers Facebook Group where you can ask 180 other indie authors, experts, editors, cover designers, PR book specialists your questions.

***

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

You can read the first 2013 My Gutsy Story® by  Mary Gottschalk.

“My Gutsy Story®” Mary Gottschalk

Welcome to Our New 2013 “My Gutsy Story®”  Series

“Giving Up the Illusion of Control”

“Can’t we just sail around the world now, instead of waiting until we’re retired?”

My story begins with that simple question to my husband Tom, posed on a snowy February night in 1985.

The answer seemed an obvious “no.”  At age 40, we both had successful careers in high finance. My success was all the more significant as a woman in what was still very much a man’s world.  Abandoning the career I’d worked so hard to build seemed crazy.  After five years at sea, I’d be approaching 45 and totally out of touch with the ever-innovative financial markets.  The odds of getting back into that competitive world would be perilously small.

But something didn’t feel right.  Tom and I both worked long hours, week in and week out.  We had no time to enjoy the fruits of our success. Life seemed to passing us by.

And so, Tom and I held hands and jumped off the corporate ladder. Barely seven months later, we headed out of New York Harbor on a 37-foot sailboat en route to the rest of the world.

Almost nothing on that voyage worked out as planned.  But what I learned, as I recounted in Sailing Down the Moonbeam, is that sailing is a metaphor for life. The route is not well marked.  You can’t control your environment.  All too often, you end up somewhere other than where you intended to go.  As Ted Turner famously noted, there’s no point in worrying about the wind; the only thing you can do is adjust your sails.

It was a lesson I learned early in the voyage, and it changed my life almost at once.  But the way that lesson applied to my career was not apparent until years after the voyage ended.  That is the story I will share here.

 

I began my professional life as a researcher and problem solver for companies with financial exposure to interest rates, currencies and commodity prices. I loved the work, which appealed to my analytical nature.  It seems I was good at it and I moved steadily up the corporate ladder.  But with each move, I was spending more time managing people and their schedules, and less time doing what gave me a sense of satisfaction.  A nagging concern about my ability to master the job I’d been promoted into—I hated routine and didn’t think I was a very good people manager—was a significant factor in my decision to leave on that sailboat.

At the time, I felt I was running away from a looming sense of failure.  But as the analogy between sailing and real life began to rise to my consciousness, it struck me that during those last few years in New York, I’d been trying to control the metaphorical wind … trying to make my career go in a direction that my introverted, analytical persona was not designed to go.

With the realization came an understanding of what I wanted, what I was willing to do— when and if I returned to the work-a-day world. I liked research and problem solving.  I didn’t like jobs with routine and repetition.  I didn’t want to manage people.  I didn’t want to waste energy trying to be good at what other people thought I should do.

With that insight came another. Fancy titles and big salaries mattered far less to me than having an interesting job in which I could continue to learn and grow.  As I thought back over my career, the jobs I had loved most had constant variety with little or no managerial routines, as well as the opportunity to learn even as I used my analytical skills to help others.  It was the classic consultant role.

It was easy enough, sitting on the deck of my sailboat, to say what I wanted.  But what if the world didn’t care what I wanted?

And for a time, it seemed the world didn’t care.  When I did go back to work, I started out as a mid-level financial consultant in Auckland, New Zealand, much lower in the pecking order than I’d been when I left New York.  Within four years, however, I was running the financial risk management practice for Peat Marwick in Australia.  In 1994, Arthur Anderson recruited me to return to New York.  In 2000, I was appointed Chief Financial Officer of one of the twelve Federal Home Loan Banks.

Although I didn’t seek them out, promotions and handsome salaries came my way.  It was like being paid to go to school.  It seems that what mattered was not being good at everything, but focusing my energy and attention on doing what I loved and was good at.

 

With the benefit of hindsight, a career decision that initially looked like a “gutsy” thing to do seems to have been the safer course of action.  In New York, every rung on the corporate ladder is a stop on the road to somewhere above. If you don’t move up, you’ll get pushed off.  I have no doubt that, had I stayed on that management track in New York, I would eventually have been pushed off by someone who loved managing people in a way that I did not.

My point is not just that I took a risk and it worked out.  My point is also that doing what is expected, following the conventional path may, in reality, be the riskiest choice of all.  We all know people who stayed in jobs they didn’t enjoy just because they thought the job was safe—and lost their jobs in the last recession.

I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone sailing. Would I have stayed in a miserable job? Perhaps not. But if all I did was change jobs in the competitive, high pressure world of New York, I would not have learned the lesson I absorbed as I crossed the Pacific Ocean … that you can’t control your environment … that you can only control how you respond to it.  Given that reality, you might as well spend your time doing what you love.

Go for it!

 ***

Mary Gottschalk Bio:

Mary has made a career out of changing careers.  After finishing graduate school, she spent nearly thirty years in the financial markets, as an economist, a banker and a consultant.  Her work took her to New York, New Zealand, Australia, Central America, Europe, and amazingly, Des Moines, Iowa.

Along the way, she dropped out several times.  In the mid-1980’s, Mary and her husband Tom embarked on the round-the-world sailing voyage that is the subject of her memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam. Several times, she left finance to provide financial and strategic planning services to the nonprofit community, both in New York and Des Moines.

In her latest incarnation, she is working on a novel, writing for The Iowan magazine, and lecturing on the subject of personal risk.

 

Mary has two websites which you can view here and here.

Please join her on Twitter and Facebook, and her memoir, Sailing Down the Moonbeam  is available on Amazon.

***

  Sonia Marsh Says:

“Abandoning the career I’d worked so hard to build seemed crazy,”

and yet, this is what you did. I find it amazing that stepping out of the corporate world into a world where nature is your boss, can give you clarity, and make you realize what’s important in life. You state the message you learned with such clarity:

“that you can’t control your environment … that you can only control how you respond to it.  Given that reality, you might as well spend your time doing what you love.”

Many of us need to hear your message to get the courage to take a risk, rather than staying in a situation we’re not happy with.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

 

 

 

How far should you take your brand?

I’m going overboard with turquoise

When I decided to put a turquoise feather in my hair, I asked myself, “How far should I take my brand?”

I made a spontaneous decision at my local gym today after chatting with Mary Visconte (a  “My Gutsy Story” sponsor under Spectrum Specialities and Awards) told me she was getting her long brown hair colored purple and pink at the ends. She showed me some photos on her i-phone.

“Maybe I should get some turquoise in my hair to go with my brand, but I’m too old for that,” I said.

“Sonia, get a turquoise feather, that would look cool,” Mary replied.

“Where?”

“You can buy them at the beauty supply store next to Peets coffee.”

So after the gym, I drove straight to the store, picked up the turquoise feather, some turquoise nail polish, and of course a Peets coffee.

Back home, I jumped in the shower then dressed in my “book-signing uniform.”  A quick dab of turquoise on my nails, then asked my son to take some photos.

My poor kids are fed up with me asking them to take photos.

So my question is:

How far should you take your brand?

And to all my author friends, have you branded yourself? If so how? With a favorite color? Something you wear to accentuate your brand? A gimmick that goes with your book? Have you even thought of it when you do your book signings?

NEWS

My Gutsy Story® is now Trademarked as of 1/01/13.

Next Monday, January 7th, we start the 2013 My Gutsy Story® series with Mary Gottschalk.

 

Submit your “My Gutsy Story”®

I am collecting new “My Gutsy Story” submissions for 2013.  NOW is the time to submit your own “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

 

Should I wear the feather or not?

I’m going overboard with turquoise

This morning, at the gym, my friend, Mary Visconte (a  “My Gutsy Story” sponsor under Spectrum Specialities and Awards) told me she was getting her long brown hair colored purple and pink at the ends. She showed me some photos on her i-phone.

“Maybe I should get some turquoise in my hair, but I’m too old for that,” I said.

“Sonia, get a turquoise feather, that would look cool,” Mary replied.

“Where?”

“You can buy them at the beauty supply store next to Peets coffee.”

So after the gym, I drove straight to the store, picked up the turquoise feather, some turquoise nail polish, and of course a Peets coffee.

Back home, I jumped in the shower then dressed in my “book-signing uniform.”  A quick dab of turquoise on my nails, then asked my son to take some photos.

My poor kids are fed up with me asking them to take photos.

So my question is:

Should I wear the feather or not?

And to all my author friends, do you have a favorite color or something you wear when you do your book signings?

NEWS

My Gutsy Story® is now Trademarked as of 1/01/13.

Next Monday, January 7th, we start the 2013 My Gutsy Story® series with Mary Gottschalk.

 

Submit your “My Gutsy Story”®

I am collecting new “My Gutsy Story” submissions for 2013.  NOW is the time to submit your own “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

 

Our New Year “Gutsy Creative People” Party

[image error]

Our “Gutsy Creative People” Party.

My husband Duke decided we should have a party with creative people.

“Why not, ” I agreed and said, “Let’s call it a Gutsy Creative People Party.”

So we created a list of all our friends in Duke’s indie movie: The Down Home Alien Blues, my writer friends, PR friends, journalists, editors and so on.

What fun we had between actors, such as Nathalie Biermanns (photo below left) and make-up artist Coco Covarrubias (photo below right.)

Nathalie Biermanns and Coco Covarrubias

Then my good friend Madeline Sharples, author of  wrote a “My Gutsy Story” drove from Manhattan Beach to Orange County in the rain with her husband Bob. After reading her memoir, Leaving the Hall Light On, it was wonderful to meet her husband Bob. It’s strange how memoir writers know all about the author’s family, prior to meeting them in person.

Sonia and Madeline Sharples with blue Belizean morpho butterflies on the right and a photo of a boat dock in Belize on the left.

Madeline and Bob Sharples

I invited two of my SCWA (Southern California Writers Association) friends. Charla Spence, and Janis Thomas.

Charla Spence author friend from SCWA

Here is Janis and her husband Alex, with Charla.

Alex, Janis and Charla

My friend Janis Thomas, had her novel, Something New, published by Penguin. I am thrilled for her.

Then Tom Blake, a former OC Register columnist, arrived with his friend Gretta.  Tom still writes a column about dating over 50 for a local Dana Point, California newspaper, and was generous to host me at his deli, “Tutor and Spunky’s” in Dana Point in September. You can view photos here.

Tom Blake and Gretta

The actors had a good time, including Jay Mitsch, who is the lead man in The Down Home Alien Blues.

Nathalie, Coco and Jay

We had an amazing evening and here is my friend Dee Fitgerald and his wife, Mary. I met Dee from blogging. You can view his Dr. Eclectic blog here.

Dee and Mary FitzGerald

Dee also offered me the opportunity to speak at the MOAA (Military Officers Association of America) about my youngest son becoming a soldier. My son is on the top photo, far right.

A wonderful PR lady for authors, Jennifer Heinly, also attended, together with Pam Westcott, a freelance writer and their respective husbands.

Pam, John, Jennifer and her husband.

And last but not least, my friend, Sandra Polett, a professional organizer who helped me organize files.

Sandra Polett Sandra@theocorganizer.com

Happy New Year to all my friends and may 2013 be the year you accomplish whatever you desire.

 Submit your “My Gutsy Story.”

I am collecting new “My Gutsy Story” submissions for 2013.  NOW is the time to submit your own “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

 

 

Being famous doesn’t guarantee fans will come

Sonia with John Montz, manager of Bank of Books in Ventura, California

Bank of Books in Ventura, California, is a lovely indie bookstore for book lovers of all genres. It’s the kind of store that attracts those who love to browse and dig into stories. It’s also the kind of store that attracts famous people, such as Sir Anthony Hopkins, according to John Montz, the manager.

Last weekend, during my book event at Bank of Books, John told me an interesting story.

Academy Award winner, Gregory Peck,  famous actor in the movie To Kill a Mockingbird, had a book signing at Bank of Books. They advertised his event in all the local newspapers, and set a table inside the store for him to sign his book. Not one person showed up. Not one.

The manager decided to have him stand outside the store, and when people recognized him, they finally formed a line which stretched down Main Street.

I enjoy meeting new people.

So knowing that even famous people don’t always draw a crowd, despite publicity, should make indie authors feel better when they only draw a small number of “fans” to their book events.

In my opinion, you always meet one person who makes the whole event worthwhile, and this time, I met a great lady who purchased my book, and we exchanged business cards. The secret is to be “gutsy” and go up to people and chat.

Have you had a book signing where no one came? Have you been to many book signings yourself?

Submit your “My Gutsy Story.”

I am collecting new “My Gutsy Story” submissions for 2013.  NOW is the time to submit your own “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

Are you Gutsy enough to give a stranger a “Free Hug”?

I’m spending a mini-vacation with my husband in Ojai, California, and met this “Gutsy” man at the Farmers’ Market on Sunday morning.

He seemed friendly and gentle, so I had to find out:

Why was he offering “Free Hugs?”

After we hugged, I had this burning desire to interview him. I needed to find out the: who, what, where, when and why?

The first thing he said was,  “I have the best job in the whole world.”

Sonia getting her “Free Hug” in Ojai, California.

That struck me as odd, and I started thinking, “Is he getting paid to hug?” if so, am I supposed to donate money. I don’t see a hat or a box on the ground for collecting coins, besides it does say, “Free Hugs.”

Something strange happened to me during our hug. I started thinking how one simple hug can connect two strangers. Imagine if we could start a hugging revolution, and transform the world.

There’s something special about a hug; it bonds humanity.

After receiving a warm hug, I asked him more questions.

“I hear so many stories from people I hug,” he said.

“Can you give me one example,” I asked, always looking for a good story.

“This morning a woman collapsed on my shoulder and told me her husband passed away last Wednesday. She said she longed for a human touch.”

I thought about how this man shows up every Sunday from 10am-1pm to comfort lonely people, some who are grieving, others who are longing for a human to show they care. He does have an important “job.”

The man told me there’s a worldwide movement to give, “Free Hugs” and that I can Google it. So I did when I got back to my room at the Blue Iguana Inn.

The Blue Iguana Inn, Ojai, California.

I found this video, and explanation of the “Free Hugs”  worldwide movement.

 The Free Hugs Campaign is a social movement involving individuals who offer hugs to strangers in public places.[1] The hugs are meant to be random acts of kindness – selfless acts performed just to make others feel better.

I think you have to be “Gutsy” to stand on a street and offer “Free Hugs.”

Are you Gutsy enough to give a stranger a “Free Hug”?

Merry Christmas to all of you.

My Christmas gift was a nice surprise from the London Book Festival, where my memoir received an honorable mention under Biography/Autobiography

Which is your favorite airport terminal?

Heathrow Airport , London
Terminal 5

I love to travel, and have a passion for airports.  The thrill of seeing people from all over the world converging into one place, and wondering where they live, and what their life is like, fascinates me.

My father instilled a passion for travel and planes within me at a young age. I remember when I was four, our pilot missed the runway and ended up in a ditch. This is what happened according to my dad.

We were flying to Kano on a Dakota DC 3 of Nigerian Airways. Soon after taking off a pipe blew up and the brake fluid it contained rushed into the passenger cabin. The Captain had no option but to try and return to Ikeja airport which was dangerous because the fuel tanks were full of gasoline. He also had difficulty directing the plane because he could not operate the flaps. The only way he could control the plane was to rev up one engine after the other so that he was facing the runway. But when he touched down he could not operate the brakes and we ended up in a ditch at the end of the runway. All passengers applauded except you who said, “Do it again”.

My father succeeded in turning my fear into a thrill, as though the pilot had done this intentionally for me.

Dakota-DC-3

It was a propeller plane similar to this one with 24 passengers on board.

Photo Credit Airspotting.com

Since my dad laughed and made funny wing-flapping gestures whenever we hit severe turbulence, I learned to focus on the butterflies in my tummy rather than fear.

During my recent trip from Los Angeles to Paris and London, I had the chance to spend several hours in each airport terminal. If I had to pick one terminal to spend an entire day in, it would be London’s Heathrow Terminal 5, the international terminal. (See photo above.)

I discovered that chef Gordon Ramsay has a restaurant inside the terminal and offers what he calls, “plane food picnic.” You have a choice of the “healthy heights picnic” or the “regular picnic.” People can call in their order ahead of time, and pick it up at the airport.

Gordon Ramsay Plane Food

 Photo Credit

Here’s the blurb for his picnic plane food.

“In a rush and have no time to take a seat? A Plane Food Picnic is the perfect solution. Pick up a delicious take away Gordon Ramsay picnic with everything you need in on small carry on bag and enjoy on board at your leisure.”

You can order a 3 course picnic. Here’s the menu, and this would be my selection:

Starter: Prawn and baby gem cocktail

Main Course: Smoked Scottish salmon with an apple,

celery and walnut salad

Dessert:English cheese selection with quince and berries (yes, I prefer cheese.)

The price for 3 courses £12.95 or $21.00 U.S.

I’ve never seen so many stores in one airport terminal. From Harrod’s to Gucci to Bulgari to WHSmith, to HMV, and the list goes on and on. Unfortunately, Tom Bradley terminal at LAX, is sorely missing in stores, restaurants and good coffee shops for passengers. It’s quite depressing in comparison to Heathrow and Charles de Gaulle.

After some window shopping at Harrod’s, I decided to buy a Christmas pudding and a jar of brandy butter to bring back  childhood memories and share them with my family in California. I remember steaming the pudding, but now you can microwave it; far easier.

As far as book stores, London has the best selection. There are several WHSmith stores in the terminal, and I’m happy to say people are still purchasing books like crazy at Heathrow airport.

I boarded my British Airways flight from London to Paris, CDG (Charles de Gaulle) airport, where I had four more hours to look at stores before my flight to Los Angeles. CDG’s international terminal 2A, has some fancy perfume and liquor stores. What I find unusual, is the location of the cash registers. You have to look hard to find a place to pay for your items.

Do you like to spend time at airports? If so which is your favorite one?

 

DECEMBER IS DIFFERENT.

I am back in California after a book signing in Paris and a visit to London.

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story” for 2013.  NOW is the time to submit your own “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.