Kathryn R. Biel's Blog, page 16
September 11, 2013
The Eleventh of September
For my generation, September 11, 2001 is that pivotal day when everyone remembers exactly where they were when they heard the news of the devastating terror attacks. My story is no different. However, if you follow the blog and read my post last week, then you could have figured out that I was on my honeymoon when the events of that day went down. And for the rest of my life, when people talk about "that morning," to me it will always be "that afternoon," as Pat and I were six hours ahead in France. Being such a world-changing event, I obviously included the day in my honeymoon scrapbook, although we took no pictures that day. I wrote a long narrative and have included the Time Magazine that covered the story, as well as a copy of 'Le Monde,' which is the main Parisian newspaper, from 9/12/01 in my scrapbook.
Here is my narrative from my scrapbook, describing the day from my perspective:
***We spent out last night in Nice int he Comfort Inn. Unable to fall asleep, despite our early, impending arousal, I watched a Bosnian movie subtitled in French. I had gotten fed up with CNN (the only English-speaking channel) and their stories of Michael Jordan's return to the NBA. My sleep that night was repeatedly interrupted by dreams of fire. I awoke several times, planning how to flee the hotel with our important belongings. The alarm went off around 4:45 a.m. We checked out and walked through the dark streets to the train station. The desk clerk had told us the train station was 2 blocks away-- it was a bit further. [More like 6 or 8, from what I remember] Our train ride was uneventful. I slept most of the way. After retrieving our extra bags, we got a taxi. Unfortunately, the driver spoke neither English nor French. He had never heard of Rue de le Bouteaux, but he knew Rue de le Pouteaux, so he figured it was a typo. After a 45 minute taxi ride, we arrived at the street. There was not hotel, but the taxi driver unloaded all eight bags and demanded 160 franc. We were stranded. We started to walk to the nearest taxi stand, but couldn't make it. Finally, Pat left me with the bags and went ahead to the taxi stand. It began to rain. Feeling the lowest of low, I was about to give up when I saw a mini-van taxi pull up with Pat in the back, smiling like a knight in shining armor. We were successfully delivered to our hotel, Hotel Villiers, but we were angry at being taken advantage of. The concierge did not have our reservation, but we were finally able to get a room. We got to our room just before 3 p.m. On CNN, we saw that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. Our first reaction was disbelief-- I mean, who couldn't see the big building in front of you! At this time, we thought it was a small CENSA. Our second reaction was relief--the odds of second plane crashing in the same week was good prognosis for our return trip. At that point, Pat left to go survey the area (we thought we were in the ghetto). I sat on the bed watching CNN as they interviewed eyewitnesses. I saw the 2nd plan and initially thought it was the media. Then, there was the 2nd explosion. I thought the top of the North Tower was going to topple then. Then, it was learned that one of the planes was a Boeing 767 from American Airlines, which was what we were supposed to fly out on, on that Saturday. We watched in horror as the events unfolded and the South Tower collapsed. We left briefly to get something to eat, but all the radios were broadcasting in French. We returned to our hotel to find the World Trade Center gone and part of the Pentagon destroyed. We then began the frantic phone calls homes. The phone lines to NY were a mess, so the panic continued for a few hours. We did recognize that life had changed forever, and that the world would never be the same.***
At the time, I had two cousins who worked in NYC. One actually worked in the World Trade Center. Both of those cousins are the same age as I am, and had attended our wedding just a week before. We were very lucky that both were safe that day. My brother was stationed in England at the time, so we had a contingency plan to go to England, in the event that we could not fly back to JFK. This brother lost co-workers and colleagues in the Pentagon that day. My college roommate lost her cousin.
The next day, Pat and I actually had one of our favorite days of the whole trip. We went to Sacre-Coeur, where I lit candles for the unfortunate victims and their families.
Just four days after the attacks, Pat and I had to fly home. Air travel was at a virtual standstill, with many flights still being grounded. No one from America Airlines could tell us if we would be able to fly back. JFK was scheduled to open up that day, but it was unsure. We went to Charles de Gaulle 6 hours early, and just waited all day. We boarded the plane virtually on time, but then sat anxiously on the plane for about an hour while they did background checks on the entire passenger manifest. At one point, some sort of special agent (in a suit, and with a holstered gun) came onto the plane, escorted by two American Airline employees and ran to the back of the plane. Everyone was on edge and nervous, literally holding their breath. A moment later, the captain came on and said, "You may have noticed an Air Marshall and American Airlines employees board the plane. There is no problem; they merely wanted to say 'hi' to the crew before take-off." There was a collective sigh of relief. The flight was a long eight hours, with everyone nervous about making it to our destination. When we touched down, at about 1 a.m., EST, there was a collective round of applause for the captain and crew. I know I felt like I wanted to kiss the American soil. My dad and brother were waiting for us, so we quickly loaded our bags and were off, headed back to Albany. Driving around NYC that night, the smoke from what would soon be known as Ground Zero was still billowing as if there were fire present.
Here is my narrative from my scrapbook, describing the day from my perspective:
***We spent out last night in Nice int he Comfort Inn. Unable to fall asleep, despite our early, impending arousal, I watched a Bosnian movie subtitled in French. I had gotten fed up with CNN (the only English-speaking channel) and their stories of Michael Jordan's return to the NBA. My sleep that night was repeatedly interrupted by dreams of fire. I awoke several times, planning how to flee the hotel with our important belongings. The alarm went off around 4:45 a.m. We checked out and walked through the dark streets to the train station. The desk clerk had told us the train station was 2 blocks away-- it was a bit further. [More like 6 or 8, from what I remember] Our train ride was uneventful. I slept most of the way. After retrieving our extra bags, we got a taxi. Unfortunately, the driver spoke neither English nor French. He had never heard of Rue de le Bouteaux, but he knew Rue de le Pouteaux, so he figured it was a typo. After a 45 minute taxi ride, we arrived at the street. There was not hotel, but the taxi driver unloaded all eight bags and demanded 160 franc. We were stranded. We started to walk to the nearest taxi stand, but couldn't make it. Finally, Pat left me with the bags and went ahead to the taxi stand. It began to rain. Feeling the lowest of low, I was about to give up when I saw a mini-van taxi pull up with Pat in the back, smiling like a knight in shining armor. We were successfully delivered to our hotel, Hotel Villiers, but we were angry at being taken advantage of. The concierge did not have our reservation, but we were finally able to get a room. We got to our room just before 3 p.m. On CNN, we saw that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. Our first reaction was disbelief-- I mean, who couldn't see the big building in front of you! At this time, we thought it was a small CENSA. Our second reaction was relief--the odds of second plane crashing in the same week was good prognosis for our return trip. At that point, Pat left to go survey the area (we thought we were in the ghetto). I sat on the bed watching CNN as they interviewed eyewitnesses. I saw the 2nd plan and initially thought it was the media. Then, there was the 2nd explosion. I thought the top of the North Tower was going to topple then. Then, it was learned that one of the planes was a Boeing 767 from American Airlines, which was what we were supposed to fly out on, on that Saturday. We watched in horror as the events unfolded and the South Tower collapsed. We left briefly to get something to eat, but all the radios were broadcasting in French. We returned to our hotel to find the World Trade Center gone and part of the Pentagon destroyed. We then began the frantic phone calls homes. The phone lines to NY were a mess, so the panic continued for a few hours. We did recognize that life had changed forever, and that the world would never be the same.***
At the time, I had two cousins who worked in NYC. One actually worked in the World Trade Center. Both of those cousins are the same age as I am, and had attended our wedding just a week before. We were very lucky that both were safe that day. My brother was stationed in England at the time, so we had a contingency plan to go to England, in the event that we could not fly back to JFK. This brother lost co-workers and colleagues in the Pentagon that day. My college roommate lost her cousin.
The next day, Pat and I actually had one of our favorite days of the whole trip. We went to Sacre-Coeur, where I lit candles for the unfortunate victims and their families.
Just four days after the attacks, Pat and I had to fly home. Air travel was at a virtual standstill, with many flights still being grounded. No one from America Airlines could tell us if we would be able to fly back. JFK was scheduled to open up that day, but it was unsure. We went to Charles de Gaulle 6 hours early, and just waited all day. We boarded the plane virtually on time, but then sat anxiously on the plane for about an hour while they did background checks on the entire passenger manifest. At one point, some sort of special agent (in a suit, and with a holstered gun) came onto the plane, escorted by two American Airline employees and ran to the back of the plane. Everyone was on edge and nervous, literally holding their breath. A moment later, the captain came on and said, "You may have noticed an Air Marshall and American Airlines employees board the plane. There is no problem; they merely wanted to say 'hi' to the crew before take-off." There was a collective sigh of relief. The flight was a long eight hours, with everyone nervous about making it to our destination. When we touched down, at about 1 a.m., EST, there was a collective round of applause for the captain and crew. I know I felt like I wanted to kiss the American soil. My dad and brother were waiting for us, so we quickly loaded our bags and were off, headed back to Albany. Driving around NYC that night, the smoke from what would soon be known as Ground Zero was still billowing as if there were fire present.
September 7, 2013
Bed-side Manner
Although I'm sort of having a small career identity crisis at the moment, very rarely have I second-guessed my decision to become a physical therapist. Occasionally, I think that I should have gone to medical school, but that thought is often fleeting. With the imminent danger of Obama-care looming, I'm often comfortable in my decision.
In fact, I often marvel that I was fortunate enough to figure out, at the age of 18, what I wanted to be when I grew up. I went to a top-tier program and did fairly well there (once I figured out that attending class was actually necessary for passing said class). While the economy was bad when I graduated, it took me less than a year to find employment, and I have been steadily employed since. Often, I even have two or three part-time jobs in my field.
Sometimes, working in the school is thankless. Just like any job, there are people who make your days more challenging. And just like any rewarding job, there are the intangibles that you cannot put a price tag on. The joy of a child's first steps. The relief of new equipment. The comforting words and care when there are no other options. And in outpatient, there is often the immediate pain relief or return of function.
One of the aspects I enjoy most about being a physical therapist is the educational aspect. Educating patients about their bodies and how their body is supposed to work (as opposed to how it is currently working), and how that relates to their pain and dysfunction. Healing and re-learning skills and movement patterns takes time. Being able to arm the patient with knowledge helps them to understand how and why quick fixes may not always be possible. It gives me the time to help them heal.
When my son was just an infant, I went back to school for my doctorate. The PT profession was moving towards a doctoral level profession in an attempt to gain professional autonomy (so that patients may directly access physical therapy services without first having to go through the rigmarole of physicians and specialists). I agreed with the thinking, and pursued my degree. I have a clinical doctorate (Doctorate in Physical Therapy, or DPT). It earns me the title "Doctor" as long as I follow with the PT credentials. It is a comparable degree to a Doctor of Dental Science (DDS), a Doctor of Optometry (OD), a Doctor of Chiropractic (DC), or a Doctor of Pharmacy (PharmD). Although my doctorate has not been financially worthwhile, I value the education that I received, and I hope that my patients benefit from my additional schooling, in addition to my 14 years of practice.
So, this morning, I found myself at an "Immediate Care" medical facility. An urgent care. A doc-in-a-box. I try NEVER to utilize these types of places. I feel the care is not only substandard, but can, at times, be detrimental. I have an excellent relationship with my physician, but alas, my body LOVES to become in need of medical attention on the weekends. My physician understands me and my medical background, and most often defers to my judgement. He knows that if I'm seeking help, then it is a valid problem. He also knows that I know what I'm talking about, and that I do my research. I very rarely see the doctor for myself, trying to treat myself with preventative and over the counter remedies when possible. Alas, I have an infection that requires antibiotic treatment. Being Saturday morning, I am forced into going to the doc-in-a-box.
The parking situation is not ideal. The front desk staff is rude. I put up with it, knowing that I need that antibiotic. And as much as I hate to have to take an antibiotic, I know my condition needs one. I also know that I am allergic to the three most common antibiotics used to treat my condition, and I know I'm going to get flack for requesting the specific antibiotic that I am able to tolerate and that has been successful in treating me in the past. But what I did not expect was this ...
The nurse taking my medical history, on her last question, asked me my profession. I responded, "Physical therapist." She then asked me if I had my PhD. I did not want to correct her and get into the whole clinical doctorate discussion, so I just replied, "Yes." To which she replied, "Well, that's dumb." I was taken aback and calmly said, "While it has not had the financial benefit that I had hoped, I don't regret the schooling I've had. I can read my patient's MRI's when they bring them in, and explain them to them. I can discuss with my patients how their medications may be effecting them."
She nodded, and said, "Yeah, I guess. My friend's boyfriend is just completing the PT program at ______ College. He's been working so hard, and I'm like, 'That's so dumb, why don't you just be a real doctor!'"
I again calmly explained to her why being a PT was a valid career choice, including being able to balance family and career, and getting to see patients for more than 4 minutes, which is the average length of time an orthopedic physician spends with a patient. I explained and validated myself way too much to this ignorant woman. She left, and I stewed for a moment.
When the physician came in, after his lackluster exam, I asked him who the woman was who took my history. He told me that she was an LPN and was working towards her BSN. I told him what she said. And, professional "real doctor" that he was, laughed. He kept laughing, even though I told him that I was highly offended at her comments. He tried to justify it, saying she was young and that she and her friends are in the frustrating position of having degrees, but are unable to find work. He finally said, "Oh, I'm sure you are very successful at what you do" in a patronizing voice.
I guess, when you're in school to be a "real doctor," they don't teach you how not to be an asshole.
So, local readers, avoid the Urgent Care on Troy-Schenectady Road. Unless you feel like being insulted.
In fact, I often marvel that I was fortunate enough to figure out, at the age of 18, what I wanted to be when I grew up. I went to a top-tier program and did fairly well there (once I figured out that attending class was actually necessary for passing said class). While the economy was bad when I graduated, it took me less than a year to find employment, and I have been steadily employed since. Often, I even have two or three part-time jobs in my field.
Sometimes, working in the school is thankless. Just like any job, there are people who make your days more challenging. And just like any rewarding job, there are the intangibles that you cannot put a price tag on. The joy of a child's first steps. The relief of new equipment. The comforting words and care when there are no other options. And in outpatient, there is often the immediate pain relief or return of function.
One of the aspects I enjoy most about being a physical therapist is the educational aspect. Educating patients about their bodies and how their body is supposed to work (as opposed to how it is currently working), and how that relates to their pain and dysfunction. Healing and re-learning skills and movement patterns takes time. Being able to arm the patient with knowledge helps them to understand how and why quick fixes may not always be possible. It gives me the time to help them heal.
When my son was just an infant, I went back to school for my doctorate. The PT profession was moving towards a doctoral level profession in an attempt to gain professional autonomy (so that patients may directly access physical therapy services without first having to go through the rigmarole of physicians and specialists). I agreed with the thinking, and pursued my degree. I have a clinical doctorate (Doctorate in Physical Therapy, or DPT). It earns me the title "Doctor" as long as I follow with the PT credentials. It is a comparable degree to a Doctor of Dental Science (DDS), a Doctor of Optometry (OD), a Doctor of Chiropractic (DC), or a Doctor of Pharmacy (PharmD). Although my doctorate has not been financially worthwhile, I value the education that I received, and I hope that my patients benefit from my additional schooling, in addition to my 14 years of practice.
So, this morning, I found myself at an "Immediate Care" medical facility. An urgent care. A doc-in-a-box. I try NEVER to utilize these types of places. I feel the care is not only substandard, but can, at times, be detrimental. I have an excellent relationship with my physician, but alas, my body LOVES to become in need of medical attention on the weekends. My physician understands me and my medical background, and most often defers to my judgement. He knows that if I'm seeking help, then it is a valid problem. He also knows that I know what I'm talking about, and that I do my research. I very rarely see the doctor for myself, trying to treat myself with preventative and over the counter remedies when possible. Alas, I have an infection that requires antibiotic treatment. Being Saturday morning, I am forced into going to the doc-in-a-box.
The parking situation is not ideal. The front desk staff is rude. I put up with it, knowing that I need that antibiotic. And as much as I hate to have to take an antibiotic, I know my condition needs one. I also know that I am allergic to the three most common antibiotics used to treat my condition, and I know I'm going to get flack for requesting the specific antibiotic that I am able to tolerate and that has been successful in treating me in the past. But what I did not expect was this ...
The nurse taking my medical history, on her last question, asked me my profession. I responded, "Physical therapist." She then asked me if I had my PhD. I did not want to correct her and get into the whole clinical doctorate discussion, so I just replied, "Yes." To which she replied, "Well, that's dumb." I was taken aback and calmly said, "While it has not had the financial benefit that I had hoped, I don't regret the schooling I've had. I can read my patient's MRI's when they bring them in, and explain them to them. I can discuss with my patients how their medications may be effecting them."
She nodded, and said, "Yeah, I guess. My friend's boyfriend is just completing the PT program at ______ College. He's been working so hard, and I'm like, 'That's so dumb, why don't you just be a real doctor!'"
I again calmly explained to her why being a PT was a valid career choice, including being able to balance family and career, and getting to see patients for more than 4 minutes, which is the average length of time an orthopedic physician spends with a patient. I explained and validated myself way too much to this ignorant woman. She left, and I stewed for a moment.
When the physician came in, after his lackluster exam, I asked him who the woman was who took my history. He told me that she was an LPN and was working towards her BSN. I told him what she said. And, professional "real doctor" that he was, laughed. He kept laughing, even though I told him that I was highly offended at her comments. He tried to justify it, saying she was young and that she and her friends are in the frustrating position of having degrees, but are unable to find work. He finally said, "Oh, I'm sure you are very successful at what you do" in a patronizing voice.
I guess, when you're in school to be a "real doctor," they don't teach you how not to be an asshole.
So, local readers, avoid the Urgent Care on Troy-Schenectady Road. Unless you feel like being insulted.
September 4, 2013
Book Blahs
I hope this post doesn't come off sounding too whiney or complain-y. I'm just in a bit of a weird spot right now, and want to process through writing. Take this as an expression of my thoughts and feelings, but please give me good advice if you have it.
I'm stuck. I don't know what to do or how to proceed.
I have my book. I'm happy that I published it. Now, I need to figure out how to sell it. I spent two years trying to get agents to look at it, but to no avail, which is why I went the indie route in the first place. As I told someone yesterday, publishing is easy. Selling is hard. This is why there is big bucks in marketing. But now what do I do? I'm sure all of my family and friends are tired of hearing me talk about my book. I've sent it out for reviews. Two have come back very favorable, but I only sold a handful of books from it (although any is better than none!). I'm waiting on a few more reviews. One, I think may never happen. The other will happen, but it may take up to a year. However, that blog has over 22,000 followers, so that could literally make or break me. But now, I sit and wait. But I'm not so patient, you see. I want the instant, overnight success that Colleen Hoover (who is totally awesome, BTW) and E.L. James have had. I want to wake up one morning and have sold hundreds of books in a day. I want to be invited to author events and hold book signings. I want to be an author.
I don't know how to get there, though. I get emails from various sites who will market my book. Are they legit? How do I know what is a worthwhile expenditure? How do I know if I'm just getting ripped off? Should I pay for a Kirkus review? Should I send to agents again? Do I drop the price of my e-books in hopes of selling lots more? Why are there terrible books out there that have sold thousands of copies but I've only sold 89?
And then, there is the second book. As I may have mentioned, I was about 65,000 words in (more than 75% from my goal) when my computer died. I have about 75% of it backed up, but haven't tried re-creating it, because I'm hoping my hard drive can be recovered. The hubs ordered something to do that (insert computer-geek-speak here), so hopefully I will know soon. I just got my new computer three days ago, so writing was seriously derailed for most of August.
Even without that roadblock, I'm a little stuck. This new book is totally different. It is darker and heavier, and lacks the humor that Good Intentions has. It is a departure for me, partially reflecting my mood and partially me wanting to stretch and grow as a writer. Since I have no formal training as a writer, I pretty much write by the seat of my pants (which makes me a "pantser" rather than a "plotter"). With Good Intentions, I didn't know where the story was going. I didn't know who she was going to end up with. Once I figured it out, I went back and manipulated the story to better support the outcome. With the new book, I have a better idea about where it is going, but I'm at a point that I don't know how to get there.
A lot of times, while writing, I go back, review what I've written, edit and change things and then am able to continue writing the story. Right now, I don't have the last 4+ chapters that I wrote, so I don't really know where I was. I finally started writing again today, and when I get the rest of my material back, I'll bridge it together if it doesn't already fit.
I think the difficulty with writing has deterred me from writing more, if that makes any sense. I worked a lot more this summer than I had planned, so I didn't have as much free time (or energy) to spend on this project as I had hoped. For a while, I was very excited about what I was writing, feeling that it was stronger than my first novel, but that energy has somewhat waned.
Thanks to a warped sense of humor and a very good friend, I was inspired last night for my next novel. And then, when talking about it today, ideas kept flying at me. And I got excited again.
My excitement was short-lived however. Still looming over me is how to sell Good Intentions, and how to remain inspired over work #2. I jotted down my ideas for #3 so I don't forget them. But I want to work on that project. However, I've come too far with #2 to abandon it though. I need to push forward.
I need to remain optimistic, and not let myself become dejected. Originally, I had hoped to sell 100 books. I'm 11 away from that goal. I think it will happen. That goal is within reach. But now that I'm that close, I want to sell 1,000 or 10,000. I need to keep focused and be patient. Easier said than done.
Thanks all for listening, and letting me have my outlet. Writing is my therapy, whether it is novel or blog form. Any advice would be appreciated, if anyone out there has it.
And for my local peeps, you can check out two of my friends who have made it, Eric Devine and Dennis Mahoney at Troy Author Day on October 9, 2013. I was lucky to know both of these guys in high school, and am utterly impressed at what wonderful writers they have become. My goal is to one day be considered in the same breath, and maybe, just maybe, have a signing with them as well.
I'm stuck. I don't know what to do or how to proceed.
I have my book. I'm happy that I published it. Now, I need to figure out how to sell it. I spent two years trying to get agents to look at it, but to no avail, which is why I went the indie route in the first place. As I told someone yesterday, publishing is easy. Selling is hard. This is why there is big bucks in marketing. But now what do I do? I'm sure all of my family and friends are tired of hearing me talk about my book. I've sent it out for reviews. Two have come back very favorable, but I only sold a handful of books from it (although any is better than none!). I'm waiting on a few more reviews. One, I think may never happen. The other will happen, but it may take up to a year. However, that blog has over 22,000 followers, so that could literally make or break me. But now, I sit and wait. But I'm not so patient, you see. I want the instant, overnight success that Colleen Hoover (who is totally awesome, BTW) and E.L. James have had. I want to wake up one morning and have sold hundreds of books in a day. I want to be invited to author events and hold book signings. I want to be an author.
I don't know how to get there, though. I get emails from various sites who will market my book. Are they legit? How do I know what is a worthwhile expenditure? How do I know if I'm just getting ripped off? Should I pay for a Kirkus review? Should I send to agents again? Do I drop the price of my e-books in hopes of selling lots more? Why are there terrible books out there that have sold thousands of copies but I've only sold 89?
And then, there is the second book. As I may have mentioned, I was about 65,000 words in (more than 75% from my goal) when my computer died. I have about 75% of it backed up, but haven't tried re-creating it, because I'm hoping my hard drive can be recovered. The hubs ordered something to do that (insert computer-geek-speak here), so hopefully I will know soon. I just got my new computer three days ago, so writing was seriously derailed for most of August.
Even without that roadblock, I'm a little stuck. This new book is totally different. It is darker and heavier, and lacks the humor that Good Intentions has. It is a departure for me, partially reflecting my mood and partially me wanting to stretch and grow as a writer. Since I have no formal training as a writer, I pretty much write by the seat of my pants (which makes me a "pantser" rather than a "plotter"). With Good Intentions, I didn't know where the story was going. I didn't know who she was going to end up with. Once I figured it out, I went back and manipulated the story to better support the outcome. With the new book, I have a better idea about where it is going, but I'm at a point that I don't know how to get there.
A lot of times, while writing, I go back, review what I've written, edit and change things and then am able to continue writing the story. Right now, I don't have the last 4+ chapters that I wrote, so I don't really know where I was. I finally started writing again today, and when I get the rest of my material back, I'll bridge it together if it doesn't already fit.
I think the difficulty with writing has deterred me from writing more, if that makes any sense. I worked a lot more this summer than I had planned, so I didn't have as much free time (or energy) to spend on this project as I had hoped. For a while, I was very excited about what I was writing, feeling that it was stronger than my first novel, but that energy has somewhat waned.
Thanks to a warped sense of humor and a very good friend, I was inspired last night for my next novel. And then, when talking about it today, ideas kept flying at me. And I got excited again.
My excitement was short-lived however. Still looming over me is how to sell Good Intentions, and how to remain inspired over work #2. I jotted down my ideas for #3 so I don't forget them. But I want to work on that project. However, I've come too far with #2 to abandon it though. I need to push forward.
I need to remain optimistic, and not let myself become dejected. Originally, I had hoped to sell 100 books. I'm 11 away from that goal. I think it will happen. That goal is within reach. But now that I'm that close, I want to sell 1,000 or 10,000. I need to keep focused and be patient. Easier said than done.
Thanks all for listening, and letting me have my outlet. Writing is my therapy, whether it is novel or blog form. Any advice would be appreciated, if anyone out there has it.
And for my local peeps, you can check out two of my friends who have made it, Eric Devine and Dennis Mahoney at Troy Author Day on October 9, 2013. I was lucky to know both of these guys in high school, and am utterly impressed at what wonderful writers they have become. My goal is to one day be considered in the same breath, and maybe, just maybe, have a signing with them as well.
September 2, 2013
A dozen...
A dozen eggs does not go very far. A dozen doughnuts travels even less far. But today, I'm reflecting on another dozen that seemed to fly away in the blink of an eye.
A dozen years of marriage.
Twelve years ago today, I left Kate Kopach behind and became Kathryn Biel. I was so very sure of my decision. Well, except for those brief moments the day before when Pat almost missed the rehearsal. Then I questioned everything. By the wedding day, I was nervous, anxious even, but sure of my decision.
I can't picture my life any differently. Sure, sometimes I try. Sometimes, like when I hear music from my college days, I wax nostalgically upon days gone by and wish for another chance. But when I am honest with myself, I know that this is all I've ever wanted.
Sure, there are days (or nights, depending on what we're going through), that I play the "If only" game. There are times when I want to hit my husband in the head with a frying pan. There are days when I want to pull my hair out. There are moments when I want to run away. But all those moments are fleeting, and are often a result of my own shortcomings in being able to deal with this thing called life.
Marriage is tough work. No doubt about it. But I cannot picture my life with anyone but Pat in it (Ok, maybe Henry Cavill, if you really pressed me for an answer). Some days are easy. Some are so unbelievably hard that I don't think we'll survive. But we do, and we come out stronger for it.
When we laugh together, everything cements together, stronger for the next time something tries to shake us. Our children further provide the glue that binds our family together. We, Pat and I, created this life together. We built the people, we designed the house. We sculpt the roles so that each of us becomes a better person. I often get irritated when upon hearing that we have a boy and a girl, people will say, "Oh you have the perfect family!" Having a boy and a girl does not make us perfect. Our four personalities together, the dynamics we have created, that is what makes us perfect and complete.
Here I was a dozen years ago:
I totally smashed the cake on Pat's face, but only after he did it to me first. I had warned him not to do it. In hindsight, I wish I hadn't done that, but we were having fun. That is one of the things that makes Pat and I work--our senses of humor mesh well. Not everyone else finds me so amusing.
Here is a good shot of our wedding party. Now, between all of us, there are FIFTEEN children! The ring bearer is starting his freshman year at St. John's (Good luck, Tony!) and the Jr. Bridesmaid is on a semester abroad in Italy (Divertirsi, Genny!). We had good friends and family who stood by us and made our day special.
Oh, see the bridesmaid directly behind me? We got married on her birthday. Happy Birthday Christine!
So, as I type this from my new computer (which was my anniversary present--he's getting a weed wacker, which is not nearly as fun), I just want to say, I can't wait to see what the next dozen hold for us.
Happy Anniversary!
A dozen years of marriage.
Twelve years ago today, I left Kate Kopach behind and became Kathryn Biel. I was so very sure of my decision. Well, except for those brief moments the day before when Pat almost missed the rehearsal. Then I questioned everything. By the wedding day, I was nervous, anxious even, but sure of my decision.
I can't picture my life any differently. Sure, sometimes I try. Sometimes, like when I hear music from my college days, I wax nostalgically upon days gone by and wish for another chance. But when I am honest with myself, I know that this is all I've ever wanted.
Sure, there are days (or nights, depending on what we're going through), that I play the "If only" game. There are times when I want to hit my husband in the head with a frying pan. There are days when I want to pull my hair out. There are moments when I want to run away. But all those moments are fleeting, and are often a result of my own shortcomings in being able to deal with this thing called life.
Marriage is tough work. No doubt about it. But I cannot picture my life with anyone but Pat in it (Ok, maybe Henry Cavill, if you really pressed me for an answer). Some days are easy. Some are so unbelievably hard that I don't think we'll survive. But we do, and we come out stronger for it.
When we laugh together, everything cements together, stronger for the next time something tries to shake us. Our children further provide the glue that binds our family together. We, Pat and I, created this life together. We built the people, we designed the house. We sculpt the roles so that each of us becomes a better person. I often get irritated when upon hearing that we have a boy and a girl, people will say, "Oh you have the perfect family!" Having a boy and a girl does not make us perfect. Our four personalities together, the dynamics we have created, that is what makes us perfect and complete.
Here I was a dozen years ago:
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I totally smashed the cake on Pat's face, but only after he did it to me first. I had warned him not to do it. In hindsight, I wish I hadn't done that, but we were having fun. That is one of the things that makes Pat and I work--our senses of humor mesh well. Not everyone else finds me so amusing.
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Here is a good shot of our wedding party. Now, between all of us, there are FIFTEEN children! The ring bearer is starting his freshman year at St. John's (Good luck, Tony!) and the Jr. Bridesmaid is on a semester abroad in Italy (Divertirsi, Genny!). We had good friends and family who stood by us and made our day special.
Oh, see the bridesmaid directly behind me? We got married on her birthday. Happy Birthday Christine!So, as I type this from my new computer (which was my anniversary present--he's getting a weed wacker, which is not nearly as fun), I just want to say, I can't wait to see what the next dozen hold for us.
Happy Anniversary!
August 27, 2013
This is totally an opinion piece, which means it's MY opi...
This is totally an opinion piece, which means it's MY opinion. Feel free to disagree, but keep it respectable.
The media this week is ablaze with Miley Cyrus critiques, criticism, and other bashing due to her over-the-top performance at the VMA's. I haven't watched the VMA's in about 15 years, but I had to see what all the fuss was about. So, I went onto You Tube and watched the video. And, like 99% of the world, I was horrified and disgusted. Here it is, if you haven't had a chance to see it yet:
Yep, pretty disgusting. No doubt about it. I read some articles about it here and there, including one that talked about MTV bleeping out "molly" in the song, due to it's frank reference to drug use. I watched the video for Miley's song, "We Can't Stop" and then watched the VMA clip again. (The video for "We Can't Stop is highly reminiscent of Fiona Apple's "Criminal.")
Ok, so I was still disgusted, but for a different reason. One of the main critiques of Miley's performance was her "twerking." Frankly, I had to google what twerking was. I still wasn't sure from reading the description, so I had to google videos, which explained it pretty well.
This kind of dance move has been around for years. Hello, Rump Shaker anyone? But back to Miley. Why is everyone criticizing her twerking all over the place, when her back up dancers were doing EXACTLY the same thing? No one seems to mention the dozens of other women up there shaking their money makers in scarcely any clothing. Frankly, much of the performance was a hybrid of the "We Can't Stop" and "Give It 2 U" videos.
Directly. So, it's fine for a man to sing with mostly naked women twerking around him, but it's not alright for a woman to sing while twerking semi-dressed. Huh?
The VMA's has a long history of artist's pushing the envelope. Why is this so different? Madonna's "Like a Virgin?" Brittney's "Slave for You?" Lady Gaga's whatever performance. Lady Gaga ended up clothed in even less than Miley did by the end of the night, but no one (besides the Will Smith family) seemed to take offense.
Are people offended because Miley was once a Disney darling and now she's gone over the edge? Brittney, Christina (who can forget their kisses with Madonna or her video for "Dirrrrty"), Linsday Lohan, Amanda Bynes. Yep, all sweet and innocent still. Right.
People need to get over the face that Miley Cyrus is now a woman. A young woman, but she is no longer a child. She has a right to try to expand her market and her style. If nameless backup dancers can grind up on Robin Thicke, then why is it wrong for Miley to do so?
That being said, do I think she is in desperate need of some style guidance? Oh definitely. She is beautiful and has a good singing voice. I'd kill for her body. I think it's pretty obvious that she isn't a strong dancer, hence the gyrating. But she needs to wear pants when out in public. Her hair looked terrible. It looked terrible on Gwen Steffani 10 years ago as well. On stage, her outfit, though ugly, was no less revealing that anything Pink, Katy Perry, Rihanna, or Lady Gaga wears. However, that does not mean that it was flattering. It was not. Not at all.
Someone needs to sit her down and explain the difference between being sexy and simulating sex acts. She would be a whole lot more sexy if she stopped rubbing herself with a giant foam finger. And please, for the love of God, tell her to keep her tongue in her mouth. Unless you're at the doctor and they're trying to look at your tonsils, there is no excuse for your tongue to be out like that. I'm not saying needs to be prim and proper, but there's a fine line and Miley crossed it about a mile ago.
And to all the people who say that she's a bad role model. Yep, she is. So are lots of singers (Rihanna anyone?). Her songs are not necessarily appropriate for my children. Which means we don't listen to them while my kids are in the car. I change the station. Just like I do when "Whistle," "S&M," "Last Friday Night," or "Same Love" are on. My children are 6 & 9, and there are some things they do not need to be listening to. Frankly, even the history of the VMA's dictates that it is not a child-friendly show. I don't know why kids would be watching it to begin with. Plus, my kids are heading to bed when it even starts. I don't leave it to some random celebrity to be a role model for my children. I surround them with people in their every day lives who provide good examples of how to be a decent human being. My children have not and will not see the video, but if they did, then a discussion about what was inappropriate would follow.
And I think it is pretty clear that Miley should not be considered a role model, but desperately needs a few herself to help her figure things out.
At this point, I just feel sorry for her. Miley Cyrus has a lot going for her. I wish she could surround herself with people who would help her bring out the best, rather than just going for shock value to make more money. Tell her to cover up a little, and stop defacing her body. Make her look in a mirror before leaving the house. Tell her, help her see that drugs will destroy her, not make her better. And please, just please, keep your tongue in your mouth.
The media this week is ablaze with Miley Cyrus critiques, criticism, and other bashing due to her over-the-top performance at the VMA's. I haven't watched the VMA's in about 15 years, but I had to see what all the fuss was about. So, I went onto You Tube and watched the video. And, like 99% of the world, I was horrified and disgusted. Here it is, if you haven't had a chance to see it yet:
Yep, pretty disgusting. No doubt about it. I read some articles about it here and there, including one that talked about MTV bleeping out "molly" in the song, due to it's frank reference to drug use. I watched the video for Miley's song, "We Can't Stop" and then watched the VMA clip again. (The video for "We Can't Stop is highly reminiscent of Fiona Apple's "Criminal.")
Ok, so I was still disgusted, but for a different reason. One of the main critiques of Miley's performance was her "twerking." Frankly, I had to google what twerking was. I still wasn't sure from reading the description, so I had to google videos, which explained it pretty well.
This kind of dance move has been around for years. Hello, Rump Shaker anyone? But back to Miley. Why is everyone criticizing her twerking all over the place, when her back up dancers were doing EXACTLY the same thing? No one seems to mention the dozens of other women up there shaking their money makers in scarcely any clothing. Frankly, much of the performance was a hybrid of the "We Can't Stop" and "Give It 2 U" videos.
Directly. So, it's fine for a man to sing with mostly naked women twerking around him, but it's not alright for a woman to sing while twerking semi-dressed. Huh?
The VMA's has a long history of artist's pushing the envelope. Why is this so different? Madonna's "Like a Virgin?" Brittney's "Slave for You?" Lady Gaga's whatever performance. Lady Gaga ended up clothed in even less than Miley did by the end of the night, but no one (besides the Will Smith family) seemed to take offense.
Are people offended because Miley was once a Disney darling and now she's gone over the edge? Brittney, Christina (who can forget their kisses with Madonna or her video for "Dirrrrty"), Linsday Lohan, Amanda Bynes. Yep, all sweet and innocent still. Right.
People need to get over the face that Miley Cyrus is now a woman. A young woman, but she is no longer a child. She has a right to try to expand her market and her style. If nameless backup dancers can grind up on Robin Thicke, then why is it wrong for Miley to do so?
That being said, do I think she is in desperate need of some style guidance? Oh definitely. She is beautiful and has a good singing voice. I'd kill for her body. I think it's pretty obvious that she isn't a strong dancer, hence the gyrating. But she needs to wear pants when out in public. Her hair looked terrible. It looked terrible on Gwen Steffani 10 years ago as well. On stage, her outfit, though ugly, was no less revealing that anything Pink, Katy Perry, Rihanna, or Lady Gaga wears. However, that does not mean that it was flattering. It was not. Not at all.
Someone needs to sit her down and explain the difference between being sexy and simulating sex acts. She would be a whole lot more sexy if she stopped rubbing herself with a giant foam finger. And please, for the love of God, tell her to keep her tongue in her mouth. Unless you're at the doctor and they're trying to look at your tonsils, there is no excuse for your tongue to be out like that. I'm not saying needs to be prim and proper, but there's a fine line and Miley crossed it about a mile ago.
And to all the people who say that she's a bad role model. Yep, she is. So are lots of singers (Rihanna anyone?). Her songs are not necessarily appropriate for my children. Which means we don't listen to them while my kids are in the car. I change the station. Just like I do when "Whistle," "S&M," "Last Friday Night," or "Same Love" are on. My children are 6 & 9, and there are some things they do not need to be listening to. Frankly, even the history of the VMA's dictates that it is not a child-friendly show. I don't know why kids would be watching it to begin with. Plus, my kids are heading to bed when it even starts. I don't leave it to some random celebrity to be a role model for my children. I surround them with people in their every day lives who provide good examples of how to be a decent human being. My children have not and will not see the video, but if they did, then a discussion about what was inappropriate would follow.
And I think it is pretty clear that Miley should not be considered a role model, but desperately needs a few herself to help her figure things out.
At this point, I just feel sorry for her. Miley Cyrus has a lot going for her. I wish she could surround herself with people who would help her bring out the best, rather than just going for shock value to make more money. Tell her to cover up a little, and stop defacing her body. Make her look in a mirror before leaving the house. Tell her, help her see that drugs will destroy her, not make her better. And please, just please, keep your tongue in your mouth.
August 21, 2013
Many Thanks
I'd say the ride started on May 31, 2013, when I hit the 'Publish' button, but in reality, it began a long time before that. But now, I can really say that I'm an official author.
I got my first royalty payments.
They're not much. In fact, I'm still a long way from breaking even on the whole process. But, at 9:00 last night, when I checked my e-mail and had received the notices from Amazon that the money had been deposited in my account, it was a milestone.
I didn't know that I wanted to be a writer. I still don't really consider myself one. It was an accidental discovery, fueled by an overactive imagination and insomnia. I love to read, and I think it was a natural progression. I don't think I'll ever be the next J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer, but I'm quite alright with that (Although, it would be nice. There is some real estate I'd like to invest in, and that's not going to happen without me hitting the lottery or hitting the best seller list).
The book is selling, albeit slowly. Every day (ok, several times a day--I'm a little lot OCD), I go in and check my sites to see if I've sold any. Most of the time, the numbers haven't changed. Sometimes, when my book is featured on a blog, or when a review is posted, I see a small spike in sales. And I'm excited for every single one. Each one makes me nervous that the reader is not going to enjoy it. That they're not going to like me. It is hard, putting yourself out there, just waiting for the next review. It's like walking into the cafeteria as the new kid every single day. But that's the risk you take for putting yourself out there.
So, now that I can officially check 'become a writer' off my bucket list, I need to stop and send a shout out to all the people who have helped with that check mark. From my friends who read the book and listen to me talk endlessly about it, to my husband who works really hard at being supportive, to the people who have given reviews or let me crash on their blog, a huge THANK YOU!! I know I wouldn't have gotten this far without your help.
And please, keep up the good work!
I got my first royalty payments.
They're not much. In fact, I'm still a long way from breaking even on the whole process. But, at 9:00 last night, when I checked my e-mail and had received the notices from Amazon that the money had been deposited in my account, it was a milestone.
I didn't know that I wanted to be a writer. I still don't really consider myself one. It was an accidental discovery, fueled by an overactive imagination and insomnia. I love to read, and I think it was a natural progression. I don't think I'll ever be the next J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer, but I'm quite alright with that (Although, it would be nice. There is some real estate I'd like to invest in, and that's not going to happen without me hitting the lottery or hitting the best seller list).
The book is selling, albeit slowly. Every day (ok, several times a day--I'm a little lot OCD), I go in and check my sites to see if I've sold any. Most of the time, the numbers haven't changed. Sometimes, when my book is featured on a blog, or when a review is posted, I see a small spike in sales. And I'm excited for every single one. Each one makes me nervous that the reader is not going to enjoy it. That they're not going to like me. It is hard, putting yourself out there, just waiting for the next review. It's like walking into the cafeteria as the new kid every single day. But that's the risk you take for putting yourself out there.
So, now that I can officially check 'become a writer' off my bucket list, I need to stop and send a shout out to all the people who have helped with that check mark. From my friends who read the book and listen to me talk endlessly about it, to my husband who works really hard at being supportive, to the people who have given reviews or let me crash on their blog, a huge THANK YOU!! I know I wouldn't have gotten this far without your help.
And please, keep up the good work!
August 20, 2013
I'm Still Here...
...But reporting from a different location.
Last week, my computer died. I think I'm still in shock, because I haven't even cried. But that's mostly, because, after my hubby took it apart, and diagnosed it with a "blown mother board," he promised me that he can retrieve all my stuff off the hard drive. (Why is it the mother board that fails? I take this personally. Why can't it be a failed father board? Just sayin'...)
I'm trusting in that.
'Cause if it's not true, I may just totally loose it.
It all started last week. On Tuesday, the kids were due to go to a make-up session of camp. When they go to this camp, I usually pack up my computer and go to a coffee shop and write while the kids are at camp. But I wasn't feeling it. I had a post-birthday party hangover from Sophia's weekend/Monday festivities. Oh, and I'm totally stuck with my story. So, Tuesday dawned dark and rainy, and the kids didn't want to go to camp, and it was fine with me. We rescheduled for Thursday, and I was sure I'd totally be in the writing mood by then.
Thursday comes, and I deposit the kids at camp. I make it to the coffee shop and am determined to get some school work done first. So, I turn on my computer. And...nothing. Well, not nothing, it has power, but the screen remains black and it starts beeping these horrible beeps at me. Like it's yelling at me for being an irresponsible computer user or something. I call my husband and try not to freak out. Because I'm an idiot.
You see, I'm stuck on my book. But it's also about 75% of the way done (first, very rough draft). And it's not backed up. I'm an idiot.
Yes, I have a flash drive.
Yes, I have an external hard drive.
But they only work when you use them.
I have been emailing my work to a friend for review, but I had not sent her the last four chapters. I guess I could re-create those, but I may have to bang my head upon something hard, if it comes to that. It would not be a total loss, but certainly a setback.
I also store pictures on my computer. I do try to back those up regularly, and had just uploaded a bunch to Snapfish, so there might be some loss there, but it would not be catastrophic.
We went away on Friday morning, and just got back last night, so we haven't had time to try to retrieve my data. I'm totally going with the whole, "it will all be fine" mantra.
I do have to get a new computer. I'm using my hubs right now, and that will be okay in the interim, but I'll need something for long term solution. Plus, his keys have a little space in between each one, and it's really throwing me off. I make a lot of typos anyway, but this is making it ten-times worse.
I'm trying to use this time to figure out what to do in my book. I know where I want to go, but not sure of how to get there. Of course, I want to be able to read what I had already written.
In the meantime, lots of unpacking, laundry, and getting ready for school to do around here. Gonna try to keep going on the book, one way or another. I'd like to finish it before I go back to school, but that may not happen at this point.
Oh, and keep your fingers crossed for an intact hard drive. Otherwise, please don't comment when you see me and I have great big bumps on my head from banging my head against the wall.
Last week, my computer died. I think I'm still in shock, because I haven't even cried. But that's mostly, because, after my hubby took it apart, and diagnosed it with a "blown mother board," he promised me that he can retrieve all my stuff off the hard drive. (Why is it the mother board that fails? I take this personally. Why can't it be a failed father board? Just sayin'...)
I'm trusting in that.
'Cause if it's not true, I may just totally loose it.
It all started last week. On Tuesday, the kids were due to go to a make-up session of camp. When they go to this camp, I usually pack up my computer and go to a coffee shop and write while the kids are at camp. But I wasn't feeling it. I had a post-birthday party hangover from Sophia's weekend/Monday festivities. Oh, and I'm totally stuck with my story. So, Tuesday dawned dark and rainy, and the kids didn't want to go to camp, and it was fine with me. We rescheduled for Thursday, and I was sure I'd totally be in the writing mood by then.
Thursday comes, and I deposit the kids at camp. I make it to the coffee shop and am determined to get some school work done first. So, I turn on my computer. And...nothing. Well, not nothing, it has power, but the screen remains black and it starts beeping these horrible beeps at me. Like it's yelling at me for being an irresponsible computer user or something. I call my husband and try not to freak out. Because I'm an idiot.
You see, I'm stuck on my book. But it's also about 75% of the way done (first, very rough draft). And it's not backed up. I'm an idiot.
Yes, I have a flash drive.
Yes, I have an external hard drive.
But they only work when you use them.
I have been emailing my work to a friend for review, but I had not sent her the last four chapters. I guess I could re-create those, but I may have to bang my head upon something hard, if it comes to that. It would not be a total loss, but certainly a setback.
I also store pictures on my computer. I do try to back those up regularly, and had just uploaded a bunch to Snapfish, so there might be some loss there, but it would not be catastrophic.
We went away on Friday morning, and just got back last night, so we haven't had time to try to retrieve my data. I'm totally going with the whole, "it will all be fine" mantra.
I do have to get a new computer. I'm using my hubs right now, and that will be okay in the interim, but I'll need something for long term solution. Plus, his keys have a little space in between each one, and it's really throwing me off. I make a lot of typos anyway, but this is making it ten-times worse.
I'm trying to use this time to figure out what to do in my book. I know where I want to go, but not sure of how to get there. Of course, I want to be able to read what I had already written.
In the meantime, lots of unpacking, laundry, and getting ready for school to do around here. Gonna try to keep going on the book, one way or another. I'd like to finish it before I go back to school, but that may not happen at this point.
Oh, and keep your fingers crossed for an intact hard drive. Otherwise, please don't comment when you see me and I have great big bumps on my head from banging my head against the wall.
August 4, 2013
Another Guest Appearance...
Ask any indie author, and they will tell you that Bloggers play a huge role in the success of a self-published book. Book review blogs are a lifeform in and of themselves. As an avid reader, I have come to appreciate them highly. I'm always looking for a good book to read. I'm always looking for a good deal. These sites help me find both.
Naida from ...the bookworm... is one of these awesome bloggers. So awesome, in fact, that she let me crash on her site and write a guest blog post today. Not only is there some information about Good Intentions, but you can also read a sample of the first chapter (in case you're still indecisive about whether the book is for you), and find out some background info about me and the book as well.
Head over to ... the bookworm... to check out my guest post!
Thanks Naida!
Naida from ...the bookworm... is one of these awesome bloggers. So awesome, in fact, that she let me crash on her site and write a guest blog post today. Not only is there some information about Good Intentions, but you can also read a sample of the first chapter (in case you're still indecisive about whether the book is for you), and find out some background info about me and the book as well.
Head over to ... the bookworm... to check out my guest post!
Thanks Naida!
July 31, 2013
Ahhh, the relaxing days of summer.
So, I often allude to the fact that my house is not clean. When people ask me how I found time to write a book, I tell them I wrote instead of cleaning. I'm not really kidding. Now, here's the thing. I clean all the time. I mean everyday, I do something. However, in a family of four (plus two cats), the something that I do is not nearly enough. I am constantly vacuuming the kitchen, dining room and downstairs hallway/bathroom (where the litter box is). I am always wiping the counters (well, the small portions of the counters that are not covered in stuff). I am doing dishes and wiping up spills. I'll let you in on a little secret, but promise not to tell anyone. Ready...I hate cleaning. If I never had to dust or vacuum again, I'd be happy.
But this all came back to haunt me, as these things often do. My daughter's birthday is coming up. And she wants a party. I love having the kids' birthday parties at a venue, where all I have to do is show up with the cake (which I make). It's great. But my daughter wanted a party at home, with a few friends, where they could do a craft and use the bouncy house. Sounds ideal, right?
I looked around the house, and felt terrible. Even though I had three weeks, I knew there was no way that I could pull this off. We're (still) in the middle of finishing the walkway in the front of the house. My husband has all he can do to get the lawn mowed in between work, baseball games and rain. I've been trying to help him out front with landscaping.
Then, there's the inside of the house. It was a disaster. Everywhere I looked there was dust and clutter. There were cobwebs. I just can;t keep up with it anymore. This summer, I'm working at summer school, per diem in a clinic, playing chauffeur to the kids with their various camps and activities. Plus, I'm trying to promote my book, write the new one, and help out some other people with their promotions.
I did the obvious mom thing, and I bribed my daughter into having her birthday party out somewhere. And then I wallowed in guilt at what a failure of a mother I am. But, I tried not to wallow for too long, and resolved to do better. Sunday, while the kids were with my parents, I cleaned the living room. I mean changed curtains, washed windows and really cleaned. Like 3-4 hours worth of cleaning. And then I threatened all family members with bodily harm if they messed up the room.
However, that pride was short lived, as I realized that the house has about 12 rooms. If I did one room per week, then the whole house would be cleaned in 12 weeks. Wait, somehow, that doesn't work. Despite a full (both jobs, plus grocery shopping) day on Monday, I plugged on. Tuesday, I was off work, so the kids and I spent all day (and I mean ALL) cleaning their rooms. Changing beds, washing all their blankets. About 10:30 a.m. or so, I found a pedometer in Sophia's room, so I put it on. Even with taking an afternoon nap, and with only a short trip to Wal-mart, I took 8500 steps yesterday (but that doesn't include the first 2+ hours of my day). I'm at 2300 by 10 am this morning, and I still have to go to work.
The good news. The living room is still clean, along with the downstairs bathroom, both kids' rooms and the hallways (both up and down). The playroom has been picked up and vacuumed, and is passably clean, although could use a little more work. I even vacuumed and mopped the hardwood stairs and part of the dining room floor this morning. My house is solidly 1/3 clean. And that's before I run more errands and go to work for the day. Not too shabby.
The boys are headed to Cub Scout camp tomorrow morning, so I'm busy packing them up too. Which included not only finding the uniform shirt, but remembering that I needed to sew a patch on, locate the patch and actually sew it. Somehow, I'm a little confused about the Boy Scout motto. I didn't realize that "Be Prepared" applied to the moms who were not actually participating...
All this, and I'm working on book promoting as well. Good Intentions is featured this week on the book shelf at Chic Lit Central. It's only featured until August 4, 2013, so if you're visiting after that, it will simply be in list form there. Also on August 4th, I'll be guest blogging at ...the bookworm..., so stop by there to see what I have to say. My Goodreads giveaway also ends on Sunday as well. Busy weekend coming up.
I took part in a Blog Blast for Eric Devine's new book,
We booked our Disney trip for next winter, but are still trying to squeeze in one more Jersey shore trip this summer. Need to get on that one!
Oh, and I have to get Sophia's party in there too.
Huh, no wonder I'm tired. Gosh I love summer. Gotta run. Have to run some errands before work!
But this all came back to haunt me, as these things often do. My daughter's birthday is coming up. And she wants a party. I love having the kids' birthday parties at a venue, where all I have to do is show up with the cake (which I make). It's great. But my daughter wanted a party at home, with a few friends, where they could do a craft and use the bouncy house. Sounds ideal, right?
I looked around the house, and felt terrible. Even though I had three weeks, I knew there was no way that I could pull this off. We're (still) in the middle of finishing the walkway in the front of the house. My husband has all he can do to get the lawn mowed in between work, baseball games and rain. I've been trying to help him out front with landscaping.
Then, there's the inside of the house. It was a disaster. Everywhere I looked there was dust and clutter. There were cobwebs. I just can;t keep up with it anymore. This summer, I'm working at summer school, per diem in a clinic, playing chauffeur to the kids with their various camps and activities. Plus, I'm trying to promote my book, write the new one, and help out some other people with their promotions.
I did the obvious mom thing, and I bribed my daughter into having her birthday party out somewhere. And then I wallowed in guilt at what a failure of a mother I am. But, I tried not to wallow for too long, and resolved to do better. Sunday, while the kids were with my parents, I cleaned the living room. I mean changed curtains, washed windows and really cleaned. Like 3-4 hours worth of cleaning. And then I threatened all family members with bodily harm if they messed up the room.
However, that pride was short lived, as I realized that the house has about 12 rooms. If I did one room per week, then the whole house would be cleaned in 12 weeks. Wait, somehow, that doesn't work. Despite a full (both jobs, plus grocery shopping) day on Monday, I plugged on. Tuesday, I was off work, so the kids and I spent all day (and I mean ALL) cleaning their rooms. Changing beds, washing all their blankets. About 10:30 a.m. or so, I found a pedometer in Sophia's room, so I put it on. Even with taking an afternoon nap, and with only a short trip to Wal-mart, I took 8500 steps yesterday (but that doesn't include the first 2+ hours of my day). I'm at 2300 by 10 am this morning, and I still have to go to work.
The good news. The living room is still clean, along with the downstairs bathroom, both kids' rooms and the hallways (both up and down). The playroom has been picked up and vacuumed, and is passably clean, although could use a little more work. I even vacuumed and mopped the hardwood stairs and part of the dining room floor this morning. My house is solidly 1/3 clean. And that's before I run more errands and go to work for the day. Not too shabby.
The boys are headed to Cub Scout camp tomorrow morning, so I'm busy packing them up too. Which included not only finding the uniform shirt, but remembering that I needed to sew a patch on, locate the patch and actually sew it. Somehow, I'm a little confused about the Boy Scout motto. I didn't realize that "Be Prepared" applied to the moms who were not actually participating...
All this, and I'm working on book promoting as well. Good Intentions is featured this week on the book shelf at Chic Lit Central. It's only featured until August 4, 2013, so if you're visiting after that, it will simply be in list form there. Also on August 4th, I'll be guest blogging at ...the bookworm..., so stop by there to see what I have to say. My Goodreads giveaway also ends on Sunday as well. Busy weekend coming up.
I took part in a Blog Blast for Eric Devine's new book,
We booked our Disney trip for next winter, but are still trying to squeeze in one more Jersey shore trip this summer. Need to get on that one!
Oh, and I have to get Sophia's party in there too.
Huh, no wonder I'm tired. Gosh I love summer. Gotta run. Have to run some errands before work!
July 27, 2013
Dare Me
In this day and age of YouTube and instant fame...
"There is no doubt that one of us will die."
Okay, do I have your attention now?
One year, three kids, ten dares and YouTube. What could possibly go wrong?
Find out in the latest novel by Eric Devine:
Available 10/8/2013. If you cannot wait, you can pre-order here:AmazonBarnes and NobleBooksamillionIndieBound
I know you may be confused. Usually I'm discussing my epic housekeeping/parenting failures or pressuring you to buy my book. Today, Biel Blather is taking part in a Blog Blast, sponsored by Book Nerd Tours. I could say that I volunteered to participate because I went to high school with Eric Devine.
But that would not be the full reason. The full reason is that Eric is a damn talented writer, and you, the reader, will be missing out if you don't read this book.
To read an excerpt, you can visit Eric Devine's blog. All of his fancy contact information is there, including his Facebook and Twitter links, so you can follow him that way as well. (If I had ever been able to figure out the whole Twitter thing, I would have linked you directly. Sorry.)
Obviously, the powers that be are so confident in the power of this book that it has its own t-shirt.
Eric is also the author of Tap Out and This Side of Normal. In addition to being the author of fearless teen fiction, he is a high school English teacher and father of two beautiful daughters. To find out more, visit here.
Remember, Dare Me is on sale October 8, 2013. Read it...I dare you.
"There is no doubt that one of us will die."
Okay, do I have your attention now?
One year, three kids, ten dares and YouTube. What could possibly go wrong?
Find out in the latest novel by Eric Devine:
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Available 10/8/2013. If you cannot wait, you can pre-order here:AmazonBarnes and NobleBooksamillionIndieBound
I know you may be confused. Usually I'm discussing my epic housekeeping/parenting failures or pressuring you to buy my book. Today, Biel Blather is taking part in a Blog Blast, sponsored by Book Nerd Tours. I could say that I volunteered to participate because I went to high school with Eric Devine.
But that would not be the full reason. The full reason is that Eric is a damn talented writer, and you, the reader, will be missing out if you don't read this book.
To read an excerpt, you can visit Eric Devine's blog. All of his fancy contact information is there, including his Facebook and Twitter links, so you can follow him that way as well. (If I had ever been able to figure out the whole Twitter thing, I would have linked you directly. Sorry.)
Obviously, the powers that be are so confident in the power of this book that it has its own t-shirt.
Eric is also the author of Tap Out and This Side of Normal. In addition to being the author of fearless teen fiction, he is a high school English teacher and father of two beautiful daughters. To find out more, visit here.
Remember, Dare Me is on sale October 8, 2013. Read it...I dare you.
