Pamela Foster's Blog, page 9

Soft Smiles and Smart Phones

A few weeks ago, I finally broke down and bought a smart phone. Like every other non-techie, I bitched and moaned for years about the dehumanization of the world. The only people who paid any attention to my griping were other technically challenged individuals. The world just kept right on changing, leaving me further and further behind.

In a conversation with my 85 year old aunt, I listened to her bemoan the fact that no one ever sent her pictures anymore and heard myself say, “Get a compute...

Daddy’s Girl

It has been pointed out to me that the women in my novels often have a special and wonderful bond with their fathers. Oh there’s plenty of tension and flaws on both sides, but the father-daughter relationship is strong. Goo Goo Barr in Redneck Goddess has been raised by her farmer father. Samantha, in Bigfoot Blues, was brought up by her Bigfoot hunter dad. In Ridgeline it’s Adeline’s muleteer father who provided her with that feeling of being special and valued.

I’m currently in the middle of...

The Cowboy

Five years ago, when someone asked what I wrote, I said,

“Contemporary novels and a few short stories.”

Then, in an attempt to explain once and for all just what possessed my husband, Jack, and me to strap two 150 pound Post-traumatic Stress service dogs to our wrists and emigrate to The Republic of Panama, I wrote Clueless Gringos in Paradise, a humorous travel memoir.

Then, at a point in my marriage when Jack and I couldn’t even be in the same room with each other without shouting, in an attem...

Publisher/Author Love Affair

The love affair between small press publisher and author often begins with emotional fireworks and an emotion that sure-as-shootin’ feels like true love. The author is ecstatic that their work is appreciated.

“They like me! They really like me!”

The publisher basks in the glow of making someone’s dreams come true.

It’s a match made in, well, maybe not heaven, but some close suburb.

The honeymoon generally lasts until the author’s dream comes true, their very own book is clutched in their...

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Old Lady Ruminations

I have recently been taken to task for referring to myself as an old woman. It’s time to define terms.

By old lady I mean I have come to a time in my life when I know the following:

· It’s pointless to give a rat’s ass about what anyone thinks of me. I have a difficult enough time deciphering what will help ME be happy, why on earth would I waste time fretting about what others think?


· A smile and kind word are easier to accomplish than a frown and a rebuke.




· Every dog I ever loved will...<!--[if gte mso 9]><!--[if gte mso 9]>

Snow Day

I did not grow up with snow.

Fog wrapped redwoods. The cold and roaring Pacific Ocean. Fast, clear rivers. But no snow. If it snowed even once when I was a child in Eureka, California, I do not remember the event.

Now I live in Fayetteville, Arkansas, in the Ozark Mountains, and we have occasional snow. Usually. This year, we are experiencing atypical weather patterns. At least, I sincerely hope and pray this cold, snowy, icy winter is an anomaly. Because I am not a lover of cold. No. T...

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Resolution, Smesolution

How’s that New Year’s resolution coming?

Me? I’ve lost two pounds.

Or, you know, it’s possible that what with my eyes not fully recovered from cataract surgery, I may have fiddled incorrectly with that little knob that sets the scale to zero.

As for the cussing. Well, you know how that went.

Still, I believe resolutions can be good and powerful. It’s all in the definition of the word. I think of them more as goals, an opportunity to examine my life and make a clear delineation between tho...

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Heated Butts, an Elmer Fudd Hat, and Love

Last week was Jack and my twenty-first anniversary. Jack bought himself an Audi convertible. He bought me flowers. And candy.

We’ve been a one car family for all but a couple of our twenty-five years together. That’s because Jack retired the year we got married. Well, okay, that’s not quite true. He hung his boss out a third story window and was asked to accept that his job had exacerbated his PTSD, take his disability payments and stay home.

Of course that same year he was so close to s...

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Blurred and Interesting Times

I had cataract surgeries in December. My eyesight is still bleary. For the first time in my life my near-vision is foggy and sketchy. Words on a computer screen or in a book swim and fade. Words are my addiction. Not being able to write or read comfortably is akin to making an alcoholic take those little white pills that make them throw-up after they drink. Because they will drink. Just as I will read and write. It’s just that much of the enjoyment has been stolen.

Last night was New Yea...

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Biofeedback and Bigfoot

I’m a skeptic. Oh, I’ve experienced moments of unexplainable weirdness, but I always look first to the natural world for explanations. My first leap isn’t into the world of crystals, and Reiki, nor do I aim for the universe of spirits and principalities. I’m not denying the power or presence of any of these, I’m just saying that when I hear of a spontaneous healing, or an angel appearing at a deathbed, or a Bigfoot sighting, I look first for at least a sloppy scientific reason for the i...

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