Sonia Marsh's Blog, page 38

“My Gutsy Story” by Sharon Melton Lippincott

Grabbing Grannie’s Dishes

At one time Grandmother Rene had enough dishes to use a different set each day of the week. My favorite of all of them was her Franciscan Ivy china. “Someday you can have those,” she promised when I was young. I never imagined what that would entail.

The summer we were married, we went to visit my grandparents. I showed the dishes to  my husband and whispered, “Someday those will be mine.” By then I realized they had more than sentimental value. Franciscan had discontinued that pattern after only a few years of production. They had already become a collector’s item.

The year she was 83 I hopped on a plane for a long overdue visit. We had a ball, just the two of us. It was almost like time had stood still and I was ten years old again, visiting by myself in the summer — one of my most treasured memories. Now she taught me how to tat. We looked through trunks of her old clothes, and I took pictures of her wearing her squaw dresses. She made the one with elephants on the bottom tier to wear as a delegate from New Mexico to the Republican National Convention in 1956.

She told me stories about family members and her life and friends from early years. She cooked bizarrely creative meals on the two burners of her electric stove that didn’t have pans fused to them from when she left the heat on high a couple of times. She served this glop on the ivy dishes, which I had all but forgotten.

“I remember these dishes. They’ve always been my favorites!” I exclaimed.

“You can have them someday,” she promised again. With her, one never knew for sure.

Ivy plate

Three years later, I went back. She surprised me. “You can take those dishes home with you if you still want them,” she offered. My heart sank. Checking them through on the airline, especially with two changes en route, seemed like a bad idea. “Maybe I’ll ship them to you,” she said. I knew better than to hold my breath.

They were still in her cupboard when I returned the next year. “Do you want to take those dishes home?” she asked again.

“I just may do that.”

This time I had a plan. By now my sister lived nearby, and I was staying with her. By a quirk of fate, my brother came to town while I was there, and the two of us took off to hang out for awhile.

“Let’s go to Mailboxes for boxes and peanuts, and then go get those dishes,” I said. Eager to see the outcome of this edgy idea, his face glowed with anticipation. When we arrived at Grandmother’s house with two flattened boxes and an enormous bag full of something, her mouth fell open.

“What’s that?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Stuff to pack those dishes,” I answered, trying to sound breezy while holding my breath. She was famous for changing her mind, always keeping people off guard and guessing what she’d do until the last minute. This was the last minute. I realized I was on thin ice; there was a strong chance she would never have made the offer if she’d thought I would actually take them, and she could change her mind. I was daring to call her bluff, a move nobody had ever dared to make.  We stood in uncharted territory.

She stood staring for several seconds, then softened and shrugged. “Okay,” she said, turning toward the kitchen. She set aside a few odd pieces, then gestured at the rest, telling me I could have “all of those.” To my delight, “all of those” amounted to all four remaining place settings and several serving dishes. She helped pack and double-box them, and they fit perfectly. There was no room for those extra pieces if she had given them to me. I taped the boxes securely, and headed for UPS, giddy with relief that things had gone smoothly.

“That went well,” said my brother as we drove away. “I really didn’t know what to expect.”

“Nor did I.”

When the box arrived a week later, I anxiously surveyed it. It looked unmarred. A blizzard of peanuts flew through the air as I pulled out piece after piece, going limp with relief when all were intact. I left them on the counter to admire for weeks before finding a place in the cupboard, still hardly daring to believe they were finally mine.

Standing up to an occasionally ornery old lady may not seem like a big deal, but flying in the face of family tradition is. As far as I know even now, nobody ever questioned Grandmother Rene or tried to rush her by stepping ahead of her schedule. The way I read things, if she hadn’t specifically offered to help me pack them, she had reserved the right to change her mind, a likely outcome if anyone crossed her. Taking the initiative in this situation was a huge step, and one that took some terror out of dealing with future curmudgeons.

After her funeral five years later, I brought home the remaining pieces. Her Indian jewelry and other valuables had mysteriously disappeared, so I’m sure I would not have gotten a single dish if I hadn’t acted when I did, which reaffirmed the lesson I had learned.

Those dishes will always be among my most treasured possessions. I would buy them new in a heartbeat, and they remind me of her. That makes them special. The memory of calling her bluff to get them makes them priceless.

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Sharon Melton Lippincott in Machu Picchu

Sharon Lippincott Bio: Sharon is a lifestory and memoir writing instructor and coach, and the author of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, a handbook on transforming memories into meaningful stories, and numerous other stories and instructional material. Her blog, The Heart and Craft of Life Writing includes over 500 essays and tips on life writing.  Her latest book, Writing With All Your Senses is due to be published in January 2013. She serves on the board of National Association of Memoir Writers and serves an adviser for the Allegheny County Library Association’s 2012 “One Book, One Community” project to start lifestory writing groups in libraries county-wide and across the country. Please check out Sharon’s website , and join her on Twitter, and on Facebook as well as LinkedIn

SoniaMarsh Says: Not only can I “see” you and your Grandmother Rene throughout your story, but I sense her power and strength, and the impact she had on everyone in the family.You summarized it beautifully in one sentence.

“As far as I know even now, nobody ever questioned Grandmother Rene or tried to rush her by stepping ahead of her schedule.”

Thanks for sharing a story many of us can relate to in one form or another, within a family.

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Only a few days left to vote for your favorite July “My Gutsy Story.” You each get One Vote, and please share with your friends and bloggers so the winner can pick his/her prize from our list of sponsors.

The voting ends on August 15th, and the winner will be announced on August 16th. Please go to the sidebar to VOTE and click on your favorite story of the month. Thanks, and please share with your favorite social media buttons below.
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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

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.

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Freeways to Flip-Flops is Now Available

Endorsements for Freeways to Flip-Flops

“Sonia Marsh and her family give new meaning to the term “flipping out!”  Sombreros off to them for showing us the roads less traveled can often be the most rewarding — even when our trips don’t go as planned.”

-- Franz Wisner, New York Times bestselling author of Honeymoon with My Brother and How the World Makes Love

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“If you’re dreaming of escaping to a tropical island, or to any foreign land, don’t miss Sonia Marsh’s candid and vivid recounting of the ups and downs of life abroad. Part adventure tale, part romance, part family saga and part travel guide, Freeways to Flip-Flops is a memoir that reads like a novel.”

–Lan Sluder (Easy Belize, Fodor’s Belize, Living Abroad in Belize)

 

I am so happy to announce the arrival of my travel memoir:

Freeways to Flip-Flops: A Family’s Year of Gutsy Living on a Tropical Island.

After seven years of gestation–the time it would take for 3.5 African elephants to  grow inside their mother, I am now the proud author, wife, and mother of my family’s story.

As a special gift, I would like to offer you a 26-page book called: My School Bus Isn’t Yellow.  My husband, Duke, wrote this book which is full of color photos from our year in Belize. You will see our family, how we took our sons to school by boat, the mangroves, dolphins swimming next to our boat, a stormy sky, Altun-Ha Mayan ruins, our pier, a stingray next to our boat dock, “Hank” the hawk, starfish, and how we did our final garage sale by boat.

“My School Bus Isn’t Yellow.”

I love how Duke wrote this story for children, from the perspective of our ten-year-old son. It shows children and adults,  how different our life can be depending on where we live.

You can find all the information for signing up to receive your gift, my book and more on the Sidebar to the right.

Finally I wish to thank my family, fellow writers, blogger friends and everyone else, for your support during my writing journey. I wish you the best with your writing and publishing, and one last message.

I’d like to share one piece of wisdom that I learned from our year in Belize.

“Paradise is not a physical location; it’s a place that you discover within yourself.”

Love from Sonia.

 

“My Gutsy Story” by Heidi Morrell

 

First indication -

When my twins were but two and a half, I was pursuing a further acting career in voice over because Hollywood doesn’t like women over forty in front of the camera. While in a one on one coaching session, I noticed my mouth involuntarily moving too slowly once or twice. My teacher and I agreed it was probably because I was tired. But it kept happening as the weeks went by. I managed to record a good demo CD, but that career was not to be.

My father is a retired surgeon and my mother was a nurse, so I knew intrinsically that something was not right. I went to a Ear Nose and Throat MD when my mouth began to slur almost daily. After finding no organic structural flaws she gently suggested I consult with a neurologist. In the parking lot after that, my stomach made a fist and my breath came in more shallow as I hung my head. I’m married to a rare patient man in the music business and he comforted me upon returning home that evening.

The neurologist was gracious and kind, as I literally burst into tears when he entered the exam room. All the response tests he gave were fine, even the EEG. But he did want to rule out Multiple Sclerosis (MS) or a brain tumor/lesion, so he scheduled a MRI (magneticresonance imaging) for me. It came up negative for any lesions or tumors! I was joyous, my father and sister were joyous. My life returned to it’s busy normal self as we had two toddlers to raise and contend with. I had a nagging feeling however, and a garbled mouth, aka: disarthria.

Second indication -

Walking along down my residential street heading to the local village area, my left thigh hesitated ever so slightly when it was supposed to return, in it’s stride, up to the forward position. The moving body, in it’s stride is an amazing thing. Heck, any mammal’s body is sheer wonder if we would only stop for a moment and consider it! Seems only during the Olympics or during marathons do we stop to think, to marvel at the human body, the wonderful creation that it is.

But that hesitant thigh/knee was the dire confirmation clinching my dread, my awful suspicion that something was happening to me, my body. About this time, my husband’s music company requested he transfer to NYC, offering a quasi promotion and moving expenses. So we headed there amid speculation on my status, since my neurologist could find nothing on retesting and a second MRI. He only contended that something must be going on, and eventually something would show up on the MRI. How long before I would find myself in a wheelchair, I asked him? Maybe five years or so… I was by this time, an emotional wreck and that neurologist steered me to a psychiatrist for my unstable depression.

Before we moved to NYC area, I had my father arrange a referral for me to a good neurologist. Turned out he found one of the best at a leading hospital, Columbia Presbyterian in upper Manhattan near the Bronx. I went there to try and find a diagnosis. The neurologist specialized in movement disorders and we, my father and I, presumed it was something about that -since my leg was getting stiffer by the day. In fact, after foolishly rushing in the parking lot after a movie, I tripped and fell, breaking my ankle against the hard wood heel of my slip ons. My not so graceful butt came down hard against my ankle, impacting wood. Ouch! Of course I had to have surgery for a plate installation since it was a fragmented break. I felt a little like an automobile in for repairs.

My kids were to enter kindergarten that September, so we found a house in Scarsdale and moved in. My sister visited and she and I went to have the PET scan the new doctor ordered for diagnosis. I had planned the scan appointment around her visit. My husband was working nonstop, but he did accompany me to many of the doctor appointments.

Insult to injury, the PET scan cost $4,200! which my insurance refused to pay. I was still walking at that time, and I remember taking time to amble up a lovely tree lined path with my sister to the scan facility. She and I gazing at each other and rubbing shoulders over and over as if to recognize it was all true. And it was true.. I had MSA, a rare Atypical-Parkinsonian disease. (One can Google the condition to learn about it).

I’ve survived a lot longer than the seven to ten years typical of this, wahoo! and I have a great movement neurologist at UCLA that’s caring for me now that we’ve moved back to SoCalif.

-One doesn’t know what’s next on the journey, so have tolerance for those who are struggling. I’ve changed tremendously since 2000, but change is inevitable. You learn from it and gain humility. Being disabled provides a landscape of perspective where once, there was none.

The Take Aways:

-Appreciate what you have right now.

-Respect your body, what it can do.

-Everyone has some mess in their lives.

-Family is the best support you have.

-It can always be worse.

-Go out into nature for the refreshment of your soul.

-Always hold on to hope.

Heidi Morrell July 2009

Heidi Morrell Bio:Heidi Morrell is a former T.V. actress, short film maker and college graduate in English. After having been diagnosed with an atypical movement disorder, MSA, she had to retire from acting and deal with her condition; however, she still and always has written fiction, poetry and essays. Heidi writes a column on disability and other topics, for examiner.com as: ‘LA disability’ examiner, please subscribe: http://www.examiner.com/user-hbmorrell.

Heidi is married, has boy and girl twins age twelve and lives in the Los Angeles area. Her disease has caused her to lose her basic walking ability (walker only), her sense of balance and speaking clarity. “Comedy is the key to facing reality,” she says. Being disabled provides a landscape of perspective where once, there was none. Please check out Heidi’s website You can also reach her on LinkedIn or Facebook
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Sonia Marsh Says: You are a true inspiration to all of us, especially when we take our health for granted. I am grateful to you for reminding us that we have to “appreciate what we have right now,” and that, “it can always be worse.” Your take-aways are a wonderful reminder, and I appreciate what you are doing for all of us, by opening our eyes to what life is all about. Thank you Heidi. Please leave your comments for Heidi below and share with your favorite social media online. 

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Don’t forget to vote for your favorite July “My Gutsy Story.” You each get ONE VOTE, and please share with your friends and bloggers so the winner can pick his/her prize from our list of sponsors.

The voting starts August 2nd, until August 15th, and the winner will be announced on August 16th. Please go to the sidebar to VOTE and click on your favorite story of the month. Thanks, and please share with your favorite social media buttons below.
***

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

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.

***

Time to Vote for your favorite July, “My Gutsy Story”

 

This month we have 5 FANTASTIC people who have submitted their inspiring stories and it’s time for us to vote for our favorite.

BOB LOWRY:  inspired us with his remarkable story of how perseverance and staying “Gutsy” paid off as far as leaving the corporate world and finding his own job.

Bob Lowry

 

SHERREY MEYER: Sherrey’s story showed us how she overcame the cruel threats of her mother’s psychological games and threats of suicide .

Sherrey Meyer

 

BELINDA NICOLL: Belinda, an expat from South Africa who moved to the U.S., in 2001, shows us how change can also presents us with opportunities in life.

Belinda Nicoll

 

MARY HERTSLET: Mary has an uplifting story about her life and her words of wisdom can help all of us. “Take advantage of your opportunities, follow your passions, and never stop learning.“

Mary Hertslet

JUANIMA HIATT: Juanima, shares her incredible story which will help others and give hope to those who face PTSD. Juanima’s goal is, “to shatter the stigma of PTSD and abuse, and inspire others to break the silence.”

Juanima Hiatt

All five of these writers have either published books or are in the process of writing one. Please check out their websites by clicking on their names above.

You each get ONE VOTE, and please share with your friends and bloggers so the winner can pick his/her prize from our list of sponsors.

The voting starts August 2nd, until August 15th, and the winner will be announced on August 16th. Please go to the sidebar to VOTE and click on your favorite story of the month. Thanks, and please share with your favorite social media buttons below.
***

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

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.

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Stay tuned for the release date of my book. Good news coming very soon.

 A BONUS for those of you who write or want to write a MEMOIR. Jason Matthews invited a panel of memoir writers to his INDIE AUTHORS, Monday night show on HangoutNetworks.com. Watch the video.

You can learn about memoir writing from our panel:

Jason Matthews ( our host), Melvin Little, our producer.

Cheryl Stahle, Kathleen Pooler, Sharon Lippincott, Madeline Sharples, and me (Sonia Marsh)

You can click here to see panelists info.

 

“My Gutsy Story” by Juanima Hiatt

The Monster in Me

 

Inside, I trembled like a child caught in a bitter, winter wind. A blanket of numbness spread rapidly across my hands, arms, and face. We were still a few miles from my uncle’s house for the Christmas party, but the iron fist around my lungs was closing tighter, cutting off more of my air supply. I could already hear the chatter of twenty people buzzing like a swarm of locusts in my mind, and I knew that when I arrived, I would be pulled into it, and have to fight for hours to save myself. I knew relatives would corner me and ask how I am, and what have I been up to lately; they would not be able to handle my truth, so I would lie. I would smile and say, “Great!” and then hide in a back room, hoping no one would miss me.

As we sped along the freeway, I watched the trees rush by in a blur. My vision changed, marking the familiar descent out of the present where anxiety overwhelmed, into a more protected place. My surroundings became a haze, and sounds began to dissipate.

“You okay?” My husband, Mike, asked. He knew social functions were hard for me. Even if it was family.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” I wished for once I could just be honest with him. I wish I could scream, NO! I want to go home! But I refused to be a killjoy.

“Mama?” A sweet voice called from the back seat. I turned and smiled at Lacey, her six-year-old charm bubbly and irresistible. “I’m glad you came this time.”

“I’m glad, too,” I lied. I looked to the seat next to her, where her two-year-old sister, Jordan, sat transfixed on a toy in her hands. As if feeling my gaze, she looked up at me and smiled with her whole face, flashing two rows of widely-gapped baby teeth. I chuckled at her goofiness. My girls were beautiful, that was certain, but I wondered how they would fare this disorder of mine. I turned back towards the window, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. Tears because I didn’t want to go to our family Christmas party; tears because I hated what was happening to me. Then I pushed them back as I always did, trying to hide the agony swarming and tearing at my soul. Trying to prepare myself for the act I was about to put on for my loved ones. The act I put on almost every day.

This is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and it was triggered by Jordan’s traumatic birth in 2003. That event blew open the vault door to the abuse I had endured as a child, and I never saw it coming.

After fourteen years of peace with my past, my mind was suddenly plagued on a daily basis with vivid memories of rape and abuse; and not just memories, but reliving the events, where terror and pain consumed me mentally and physically. I lived on edge, jumping at any sudden sound or voice. Fear, panic and anxiety grew like a second skin – I walked in it constantly. But the anxiety became the most difficult to conceal. My level of patience existed at my throat, and anything could set me off – a 180-degree turn from who I used to be.

The rage that suddenly existed inside me shocked and horrified me, and there were times I couldn’t diffuse it. I would never hurt my girls, but the rage sat weightlessly on my tongue, and I would not know it was there until they pushed my tolerance too far. One squabble, and the rage sprung out in a frightening roar before I could stop it, jolting my girls into tears. Then crushed with massive regret, I’d scoop them into my arms with profuse apologetics.

Juanima Hiatt and her lovely family

My entire being overflowed with guilt and shame for this thing I could not control, and for the person I’d become. I grieved deeply for the woman I had been: softhearted, patient, and kind. Led by dreams and ambitions of being a singer and a writer, and owning a house in green country.

Not anymore. Dreams gave way to nightmares, and daily torture by flashbacks of frightening things I wanted so badly to forget, but could not. There was no peace in my heart, no joy, and it would get much, much worse before it ever got better.

The typical stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance took five years, while I unwillingly succumbed to the symptoms of PTSD, panic disorder, agoraphobia, and social anxiety disorder. I lived in a bubble, and the plunge I took into depression and despair was so deep, I nearly took my life.

But then I faced a life-changing question: How would you feel if your daughters experienced the same pain? The idea of my daughters ever enduring this clawed my heart into shreds, and from somewhere deep inside a righteous anger rose. I knew I needed to protect them. I knew that sexual abuse is a generational curse, and if it is to stop, someone in the cycle must dig their feet into the ground and face it, fight it, and heal from it. That someone needed to be me.

I chose to fight, and I have never looked back. I will never again be the woman my husband married; I will be someone better. After all, I know who I am now. I know what I am capable of. I know that by doing hard things, I grow in leaps and bounds. By choosing to live, I have developed courage, perseverance, and an iron will. My faith is stronger than it has ever been. I have educated my daughters about sexual abuse, but I am also determined to help as many people as possible by sharing my story. My hope is to shatter the stigma of PTSD and abuse, and inspire others to break the silence.

Juanima Hiatt Bio:

Juanima Hiatt writes from Oregon whenever she can grab precious silence.  She is a member of Willamette Writer’s Group and the critique group, Scribophile.  Juanima has a special place in her heart for kids – especially teens – and a fervent desire to help people.  She loves movies, fly-fishing, hunting, nature, and any activity with her husband and two daughters.

Her memoir, The Invisible Storm, portrays her battle with PTSD and what it takes to overcome the disorder.  She also enjoys writing screenplays, children’s books, and is currently working on a political thriller novel. You can find out more about Juanima and her books on her websites: juanimahiatt.com and theinvisiblestorm.com

Please follow Juanima on Twitter@jhiatt4, Facebook and LinkedIn

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Sonia Marsh Says: Juanima, your story is incredible and I hope it will help others and give hope to those who face what you did. When the birth of your daughter brought back the trauma of your childhood, and you said,

 ” I lived in a bubble, and the plunge I took into depression and despair was so deep, I nearly took my life.”

“But then I faced a life-changing question: How would you feel if your daughters experienced the same pain?”

“I chose to fight, and I have never looked back.”

Your courage and strength to change and do what is right for you and your family is inspiring. Thanks for sharing and I believe in you and know you will succeed in your journey:

“to shatter the stigma of PTSD and abuse, and inspire others to break the silence.”

Please leave your comments for Juanima and she will be over to respond. Thanks for sharing with friends and your fellow readers.

***

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

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.

***

The next VOTING for your favorite July  “My Gutsy Story” starts on Thursday August 2nd, until August15th.  The winner will be announced on August 16th. Winner gets to pick their prize from our 14 sponsors.

Please share these wonderful “My Gutsy Story” series with others on Twitter and other links below, if you care to spread their work.

Thank you.

Gutsy Book Buzz: Who Gives a Crap?

I’m one of those last minute spontaneous bloggers who never seems to schedule things until it’s crunch time.

I often have no idea what I’m going to post until the night before–if I’m lucky–but realistically, I sometimes wait until Thursday morning, a few minutes before 8 a.m., when my post is supposed to be written.

So imagine my delight when I found an Indiegogo video, called “Who Gives a Crap?” that resonated with me.

It’s so creative, so well-written, and so honest. It was exactly what I wanted to hear about, not only because of it’s title and double entendre, (the guy sits on a toilet for over 50 hours to raise $50,000) but because the guy is a genius at coming up with a unique concept to fund his project.

So today I’m going to talk about: Who gives a crap? And more importantly, how do you stand out? Here’s what I mean.

We live in a competitive world where everyone is striving to have a voice that gets heard above the millions of other voices.


We want to be unique, but how is that possible in a world full of other unique people?


We keep hearing about the magic formula that will help us reach our goal in no time at all.  As an ex- personal trainer, clients wanted the “quick fix” to get thin or muscular.


There is no magic formula for anything except one thing, in my mind. And this “who gives a crap” guy from Australia demonstrates it.

The reason why this guy succeeded in raising more money for his project than he expected is in my opinion, the formula for real success:

1). He is himself

2). He is extremely creative. How many would sit on a potty for that long!

3). He is down-to earth and unpretentious (perhaps I’m repeating #1)

4). He is not conning us.

5). He is an engineer, (I think) and I always admire smart people who haven’t been media-trained to death to sound robotic.

6). He has a project that can help others globally, especially those who are less fortunate than us.

7). If you’ve lived in a country where you depended on rain to flush your toilet, and you’ve had a drought, you can relate. This happened to my family in Belize.

8). His video is “Gutsy.” I mean to sit with your pants down and have a camera pointed towards you in a warehouse is quite “Gutsy,” wouldn’t you say?

9). He has beautiful baby blue eyes. Oops, sorry, but they remind me of my three sons when they were babies.

In today’s world,  we have to think of creative ways to stand out. The questions is HOW? What kind of video would you make if you wanted to raise funds for your book, your indie movie, your project?

Any thoughts? Please let us know and share with your friends. Thanks, Sonia

 Photo credit above purpleslog

“My Gutsy Story” Mary Hertslet

Life Lessons Learned

On the registration form for my 50th high school reunion, in the year 2000, we were asked to finish the sentence,  ”If I had it to do over again, I would - – - ” When completed, our answers were collected, compiled into a booklet and given to each of us. I completed the sentence with, “I would not change anything.” I was surprised to see that many others had completed the sentence in the same way. They seemed to be happy with the life they had, as was I. Also, I added a bit of advice I had already given to some of the younger generation, which was my own mantra for life: “Take advantage of your opportunities, follow your passions, and never stop learning.” A caveat to this, of course, is that you have to prepare yourself first, so that when that opportunity does come along, you will be in a position to accept it.

Together, working as a team through hard times, hard work, and with perseverance, my husband, Hersh, and I were able to start reaching some of our goals in life by taking advantage of opportunities that came to us. Sometimes, when I felt downhearted, he would say things like, “Don’t worry, we have our whole lives ahead of us”, or “The world is our oyster”. I believed it too.

After three years in the Marine Corps during WWII (two years in China), Hersh completed college and received his masters in geography. Meanwhile, I brushed up on my office skills, preparing ourselves for opportunities we might have of a career that would take us traveling. Travel was our passion. When he saw a magazine in the college library, listing positions for teachers in foreign countries, he immediately sent out applications.

In 1955, Hersh and I flew across the South Pacific, to the island of Guam, where he was under contract as a high school geography and history teacher, and I was a secretary at the school. This was the beginning of a six-year adventurous life, during which time we traveled the world.

At the end of each two-year contract, we had a three-month R&R (Rest and Relaxation) that we used for travel. This was a time before jets flew across the South Pacific, before air-conditioning, computers, etc. It was also before many people had traveled throughout Southeast Asia or explored the islands of the South Pacific as we did with our five-month-old son, Steve. We made a trip around the world later when Steve was two years old. Not much had been written about exotic places like Egypt and India. Nepal had just opened their borders. We were some of the first outsiders to enter their country.

1957 – Leaving Guam for our first three- month travels throughout Southeast Asia and the South Pacific.

Traveling through the world in the 1950s was difficult and rigorous, especially with a small child. Hersh was a consummate geographer, wanting to see countries and islands of the world from the viewpoint of the people and their lands, and not just as a tourist. It was also the most educational six years we would spend.

We lived in a pre-globalization era. We traveled during a time when the past was on the brink of colliding with the future. It was an opportunity we had then, that no longer exists

Meanwhile, island life on Guam for six years was enjoyable. Living in a Quonset hut in a small village, without telephone, TV, etc, was a culture shock, to say the least. However, we adjusted quickly and loved every minute of our life there.

After six years abroad, we returned to the States in 1961 and resumed a more normal life with our son who, by then, was five years old and ready to start school. Hersh returned to college at Rutgers University where he acquired another degree that enabled him to change his career. Afterward, we moved to the Washington, D.C. area where he began working for the Department of Defense.

Had we not taken the opportunity that was given us early in our lives, we would have missed this great six-year adventure completely. In 1976, my husband was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.  After 24 years of marriage we spent the next 33 years living with this insidious disease.  He died in 2009.

Now, as I look back to a time long ago, when we took advantage of an opportunity, I can remember our great adventures during those years when there was a time for us, and the world was our oyster.

Mary Hertslet Bio:

I grew up in Independence, a small town just outside of Kansas City, Missouri. While working at a bank in Kansas City, I met my husband on a blind date (the first and last).  After three years of marriage, Hersh and I went off to see the world and live on a beautiful South Pacific island for 6 glorious years.

After returning to the States, we settled in Maryland, bought a house and raised two wonderful children. I am also a proud grandmother of twin granddaughters.

In the 1980s I started a business in arts and crafts that lasted over twelve years. Finally I had to give it up to become a full time caregiver for Hersh until he went into a nursing home.

To help with my grief of knowing he would never be home again, I decided this would be the best time to start researching and writing a memoir.  As I wrote, I took pages to read to him.  He was no longer able to speak, but I could see the sparkle in his eyes and sometimes even a few tears.  I continued writing and reading to him until his death in 2009.  At that point, I stopped writing my memoir.  After 57 years of marriage, it was impossible to write  through my tears. I have started writing again this year, mostly essays and short stories, hoping it will bring me back to finishing my memoir.

Mary can be reached via e-mail at: clemmary1@yahoo.com

 Sonia Marsh Says: I think the best response from someone when they look back upon their life is to say, “I would not change a thing, or I have no regrets.” I know my own father has said that to me, and he is 87.  I also think we need to remember the important lesson you give us:

“Take advantage of your opportunities, follow your passions, and never stop learning.“

I enjoy your writing and hope that you continue with your memoir. You have so many adventures to write about that we would like to read. Thanks Mary for sharing your “My Gutsy Story”.

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

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.

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Please leave your comments for Mary and she will be over to respond. Also remember to share the “My Gutsy Story” series with your friends by clicking on the buttons to your favorite sites below.

 Thanks, Sonia Marsh.

 

Gutsy Book Buzz: How to make Your Book Launch Party a Success

Please click to listen to my PODCAST, or you can read the transcript below, or do both. I would love to hear what you’ve done for your own book launch party, and hope you leave comments in the section below. Please share with others who need help with their book launch.
Thanks, Sonia.

 

Hi, I’m Sonia Marsh, the founder of the weekly “My Gutsy Story” series and the author of Freeways to Flip-Flops: A Family’s Year of Gutsy Living on a Tropical Island,” which will be available on Amazon and bookstores nationwide on August 21st.

Today I’d like to give you some ideas on how to do a book launch that’s not your usual type.

How many of us enjoy sitting behind a desk and waiting for people to come up to us?

 

Here are some ideas

 

Do not call it a book launch, but a book launch party. Yes, doesn’t a party sound like more fun than a boring old-fashioned launch?


Schedule your date and time with the bookstore manager, and start telling people about it two months before the date. My book launch party is on August 30th, and I’m bubbling with Gutsy enthusiasm.


Talk about it with the same enthusiasm you have for planning your wedding.

As Carolyn Howard Johnson says in her book, The Frugal Book Promoter, How to do What Your Publisher Won’t”

“A book launch is akin to planning a wedding. You may not need an elaborate canopy of wedding bells but all the other elements that makes a wedding a success must be considered for a launch.”

Make some special postcard invitations which you give away to people everywhere. Your friends, neighbors, people at the gym, store owners you know and like, I mean everyone.


 Insert 5 invitations into each ARC, you send out, or just drop them off or mail them and tell your friend to tell everyone she knows about your launch party. If she lives in another state, tell her when your book will be released and that you’d be more than happy to do a Skype interview with any book club she of her friends belong to.


Get sponsors for your event so that you are “inviting” other local businesses to participate and this will make it easier to get press coverage.


Walk to each restaurant or store, close to your bookstore, and introduce yourself. Bring a copy of your book with you, and tell them how many people you expect to attend, I said 75, because that’s how many Laguna Beach Books can hold “as far as standing room.”


 If it’s a restaurant, ask them if they can offer an appetizer and that you picked them because they… (have a great Caribbean dish that fits perfectly with your theme.)


If it’s a store, for example I went inside a chocolate store, a hair salon and a home linens store, and asked if they would like to provide a gift basket for the raffle at my book launch party. I told them to send me their logos to add to our publicity campaign. So far they all said yes, including a Caribbean restaurant that’s donating rum punch.

So be Gutsy, and just go out there and ask. What’s the worst thing that can happen? The word “No.” That’s not the end of the world.

Now I have a question for you if you live outside the U.S.

I have a feeling that here in the U.S., businesses are more willing to help.

I would love to hear what would happen if I tried this in Paris, or Amsterdam.

Please share some of your own ideas for book launch parties that have worked for you.

Am I right? Is this more of an American concept: asking for donations from companies, as an author, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Thanks, good luck to you, and keep the conversation going.

 Photo credit of Laguna beach Book Store above.

“My Gutsy Story” Belinda Nicoll

Something that made my life take a different direction

 

I’ve learned that personal transformation can be inspiring, unless the forces of change set you adrift and you lose sight of yourself. Early in the year 2000, enjoying new-found independence thanks to my belated career as a copywriter, I decided to end my twenty-year marriage. I’d been married since the tender age of nineteen, and my husband and I had drifted apart. I trusted that our two children aged nineteen and seventeen were capable of dealing with the family break-up. What I did not anticipate, though, was that my decision would mark the start of the most distressing period of my life.

When I shared the news of my marital troubles with a colleague, she suggested that the two of us and another male colleague sign up for a self-empowerment workshop offered by a rather eccentric guru. By the end of the course, the three of us had formed a close bond. Shortly after, our male colleague accepted a job in Saudi Arabia. I kept in touch with him via e-mail, and by the time I’d finalized my divorce our friendship had turned into a long-distance romance. At the end of that year, he returned to South Africa to marry me.

His return coincided with my daughter finishing school and getting ready for a year abroad as an au pair. She’d applied to go to America, but fate intervened and she ended up with an offer from a family in Cologne, Germany. Ten years later, I’m still shaking my head at the irony of that development, because no sooner had she signed the contract than my fiancé got a job offer from an international healthcare advertising agency in San Francisco. While his employers sponsored his H-1B visa, which would permit him to work in the U.S. as a professional in a specialty occupation, I would get an H-4 visa, which permitted me to be a spouse. He said not to worry about the ‘spouse’ thing,’ that we’d sort it out as soon as we were settled in the U.S.

I’ll never forget the thrill of our prospective adventure. But I had my trepidations, too, about separating from my daughter, leaving family (not least of all my son) and friends behind, saying goodbye to my country, and putting my career on hold. The next few weeks turned into a huge rush: we got married, packed up our personal belongings, advertised my husband’s apartment as a furnished rental, said our goodbyes, and left—we’d booked our departure to coincide with my daughter’s flight to Germany.

Belinda and her children, Warrick and Juanita, who now live on three different continents.

My husband’s promise to me was that our expatriation would be a short-term stint, a year or two, three at the most. But how could we have known that our arrival as expats would coincide with one of America’s biggest disasters—two hi-jacked planes crashing into the World Trade Center? The event and its aftermath numbed us as much as it impacted the nation’s future, leading directly and indirectly to a string of personal setbacks that kept us from returning to our home country. It took more than three years to get our green cards. Caught up in changes in our host and home countries, as well as the global economic decline, over the next ten years we’d relocate from California to the North, South, and Midwest, my husband pursuing his career in advertising and I making more than a few career changes as a trailing spouse.

Belinda and her husband, Bruce

We’re U.S. citizens now. My son still lives in South Africa. My daughter returned home after her year as an au pair in Germany, but only to finish her studies as an occupational therapist, before moving to Ireland to marry the love of her life whom she’d met in Cologne.

Even now, as I take stock of all the personal and global changes, I can’t help wondering about the significance of the upheaval in my life and the uncertainties in the rest of the world, and what it all means for the future. But it doesn’t help to mope about it; change also presents opportunities—in the last ten years, I’ve traveled to many exciting destination, locally and abroad, excelled as a life coach and writer, finished my Masters in Fine Arts in Creative Writing, and published my first book. Life, good or bad, always presents us with many learning curves.

Belinda Nicoll’s Bio:

Belinda is originally from South Africa and has been a citizen of the United States since 2010. She and her husband love traveling and share a keen interest in cultural diversity. Their journeys and careers have taken them to various parts of the world. Belinda holds a BA degree in the social sciences and an MFA in Creative Writing, works as a creativity coach, is writing her first novel, and recently published her memoir—Out of Sync—a story about personal transformation and global change. Check out her Website and Blog (she writes about creative writing, personal coaching, and expatriation. You can connect with her via Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn, too.

 

Out of Sync

 

Belinda shares an excerpt from her book here. I read it, and felt transported into her life in South Africa. In those few pages, I became part of Belinda’s life. I sensed what she was going through as a mother, and a woman ready to embark on a new life in the U.S. She described her life in South Africa as a child, and the politics and people of South Africa in a manner that finally made me “understand” what was actually going on in the 60′s, and the changes that occurred.  I also feel a connection with Belinda when she says:

“These days, being rootless is an integral part of how I choose to be.”

Sonia Marsh Says: Belinda, I feel a strong connection with you in that we are both expats, and have moved around the world. I also believe that when our kids have been exposed to life in different parts of the world, they are likely to do the same as we did: they move to another continent. You mentioned change also presents opportunities, which I know to be true, and that’s what makes our lives exciting. I’d love to meet you and share our adventures. Thank you for your story and all the best with your memoir, Out of Sync, which is my kind of book, and the novel you’re writing.

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

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.

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Please leave your comments for Belinda and she will be over to respond. Also remember to share the “My Gutsy Story” series with your friends by clicking on the buttons to your favorite sites below.

 Thanks, Sonia Marsh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winner of the June “My Gutsy Story” contest

Congratulations to all four writers this month. You each shared your inspiring “My Gutsy Story.”

Madeline Sharples

Madeline Sharples came in 1st place and is the winner for the June 2012 contest. Congratulations Madeline.

Madeline Sharples

Sonia Marsh Says: Madeline’s story was one of courage and determination after the tragic loss of her son. 

 

Jeffrey Crimmel

 

Jeffrey Crimmel came in 2nd place

 

Jeffrey Crimmel

Sonia Marsh Says: Jeffrey, you send us a very important lesson: we are only visitors in another country and have to respect their traditions and not attempt to impose our own.

 

Marla Cerise

Marla Cerise came in third place.

Marla Cerise

Sonia Marsh Says: You amaze me with your strength to continue, after all the tragedies you’ve been through. I am grateful that you found a wonderful man, Will, to take care of you and your sons.

Doug Edwards

Doug Edwards from Australia, has an amazing story about how he was determined to change his life from the young age of eleven. He knew he wanted to live in Australia when he was a small kid and made his dream come true.

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You are all WINNERS, with such amazing writing and stories to share. Thank you for participating, and to all VOTERS for taking part.

Our WINNER Madeline Sharples, gets to select his prize from our new list of SPONSORS,

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

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.

Two June stories are up. So far we have Bob Lowry  “My Gutsy Story” and Sherrey Meyer’s “My Gutsy Story.”

I hope you enjoy the “My Gutsy Story” series and share with others through the links below. Perhaps you’d like to submit your own. Thanks.