Kathryn R. Biel's Blog, page 18

May 31, 2013

GREAT-BIG EXCITING NEWS HERE!

Ok, family and friends and super-cool people who read this blog (because reading this automatically makes you super-cool), I have very exciting news. Great, big exciting news.

I hope you will all want to share in it, and share it with your friends.  And tell them to share it with their friends.  You obviously come here to read my rants, musings, stories, and, well, blather.  It seems that some of you even come here repeatedly, and with little in the way of financial reimbursement or blackmail from me.  So, if you are here because you like my writing, I'm going to ask a big favor...

Please buy my book.

Yep, I said it.  But, it sounds so cool, that I want to say it again, this time with feeling.  MY BOOK!

I wrote it about two years ago.  I finished it over the summer, and immediately did some internet searching, and found out how to go about sending it to literary agents.  And then I waited.  I got rejected.  I waited some more.  I sent it out to other agents.  And then I waited.  I got rejected.  Lather, rinse, repeat, as necessary.

So, here I am two years later with this completed manuscript.  Not the next great-American novel, but an entertaining read.  The literary version of a chick-flick.  An entertaining way to spend a few hours, especially with summer (finally) rolling in.  I have great ideas rolling around in my head for book #2, which I'm trying to get down.  But what to do with book #1?

So, I do some more internet research.  (By the way, I completely love being able to find out all this stuff without ever leaving my house!)  Then I find it...Nook Press.  I can self-publish my book on Nook for free!  And there's one for the Kindle too!

Shut the front door.  This is a game changer.  Who needs a literary agent ? (If you are a literary agent, are reading this, and are interested, call me!)  I can do this by myself.  I can self-publish.  I upload my book.  I find a cheap program to make a cover.  I mess that up, and do it again, doubling my expenditures for the project, but still coming in under $10.  And I enlist the help of some friends to read the book, looking for typos, bad grammar, and to see if it was worth putting out there.  These friends, who are now listed as my editors, read the book and gave me feedback.

And then I hit the 'Publish' button.

Holy crap.






Here's the summary:

Maggie Miller is about to start her life in Boston.  She's done with grad school and has a good job as a pediatric physical therapist.   Maggie sees herself as plain and ordinary, nothing remarkable.  She doesn't see that surviving a horrific car accident that killed her mother and brother as anything special.  She's had bad taste in men and is jaded, and has decided to lay low while she focuses on her career.  Matt Slavin is Maggie's best friend from college.  He has an atrocious girlfriend, who hates Maggie for no reason.  But he also has this good friend from home.  Ryan Milan is a drop-dead gorgeous young attorney who, despite significant reservations, has relocated to Boston to start his career as a prosecutor.  He is good at reading the people he's prosecuting, but cannot read women.Maggie and Ryan dance around each other, never sure of where the other stands.  After months of push and pull, they finally realize that the other is actually interested.  After finally getting together, they are pulled apart by Ryan's family tragedy, and he is unable to return to Maggie.  Just when Maggie thinks she does not have the strength to rebuild again, she finds she no longer has that choice.  And when they're finally reunited seven years later, Maggie's life is barely recognizable...

So, now I'm, in a totally dignified way, begging you to buy my book. Or, if you're in publishing, read my book and publish it in paper form.  Tell your friends.  Tell your family.  Tell the person next to you in line at Starbucks.  I don't have an agent, an editor, or any fancy publicity.  This is it.  Word of mouth.  Social media.

Oh, and if you like it, please write a review.  If you don't, I'm sorry I wasted your time and money, but please don't trash me. Thanks.

On sale now, for Kindle and nook.



 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on May 31, 2013 03:11

May 28, 2013

If They Could Just Stay Little...

With yesterday being Memorial Day, I did a lot of reflecting over the weekend.

(NOTE:  I know that Memorial Day is really to honor our fallen soldiers, not to talk about my own stuff.  While the blog is about my own stuff, please know that I do hold our military, past and present, in the highest regard and appreciate the sacrifices made for our country.  After all, freedom isn't free.)

I had time to reflect, since I was cleaning out my children's dressers and closets.  Mother Nature appears to be a little, shall we say, indecisive with the weather, but I'm having it no more.  Also, my children are growing freakishly tall.  Now, for those of you who don't know me, I'm short.  My husband is not the tallest, either.  Although we have tall family members, I think we always thought the kids would be short, so it still surprises me that they are growing like weeds.

On Friday, I had to make Jake take off his jeans last minute because he looked like he was expecting a flood.  In hindsight, with all the rain, perhaps they would have still worked.

Anyway, with the forecast to go near 90 by the end of the week, I am taking the risk, and FINALLY taking all the long sleeve stuff out, as well as cleaning out the clothing that is just too short.  My children are beanpoles, so nothing is ever too tight.  It is always just too short.

So I started bagging up their clothes.  They each had bins in their closets of discards, so I had to sort through them for the 'keeps' and the 'gives.'  When they were babies, I kept pretty much everything.  After all, with Jake, we knew we were having another, and we were undecided after Sophia. I have bins and bins (and bins and bins) in the basement.  (That will be a summer project to go through those!)  Now, I'm into getting rid of the stuff.  I actually (gasp!) throw out clothing that is stained.  And I pass on the stuff that is not.  My cousin's son takes Jake's stuff, and I have some friends who take Sophia's.  Great system.

Until I hit a road block.

And that is my damn memory and sentimentality.

I like to keep the special outfits, but often, it is a simple t-shirt that I cannot part with.  I look at it, and remember it on my child.  I remember the day(s) that they wore it, and where they were at that time in their life.  The article of clothing brings a picture to my mind that I don't want to let go. I get very sad that that moment has passed.

Sometimes, I see pictures of my cousin's son wearing Jake's old clothes, and it makes me smile.


Like this photo...because his parents are DIE HARD Yankee fans (I mean, their cats are A-Rod and Jeter, for Pete's sake!), but he sooooo wanted to wear the shirt from cousin Jake.

And then there's this one:

We laugh because Chunky Monkey here is only 10 months old.  His brother, before he decided to show his unwavering support for the Red Sox, also took the outfit out for a spin:





Big Brother was 17 months old when he wore it.  So was cousin Jake, when the outfit originated:



I look back on this little guy, who was so absolutely adorable.  He's now almost as tall as I am (I know, not saying much).  I can't really pick him up anymore.  He's getting so big and so mature.  This little guy is gone.

Here is a group shot of Jake, Sophia and their cousin, when the cousin wore the outfit:


Ironically, Sophia's outfit was a borrowed hand-me-down from her older cousin.  It was an adorable dress and kerchief with cherries on it.  It did not make me sad to have to return it.  I was just happy to have had the chance to see her in it in the first place.
I know parting with the clothes is a good thing.  And it keeps me one step ahead of being on the show, Hoarders.  I truly love where my kids are now.  But on the other hand, as Sophia is not feeling great, and just wants to sit and snuggle, I think it's ok to celebrate Memorial Day but remembering how it was when they were little.

 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on May 28, 2013 14:15

May 14, 2013

Trolling

A few weeks ago, I thought I had made it big time in the blog world because I wrote a guest post.  I was wrong...I really made it now.  I got my first Internet Troll!

In case you were wondering, here's what Wikipedia has to say about internet trolls:


In Internet slang, a troll (pron.: /ˈtrl//ˈtrɒl/) is someone who posts inflammatory,[1] extraneous, or off-topic messages in an online community, such as a forum, chat room, or blog, with the primary intent of provoking readers into an emotional response[2] or of otherwise disrupting normal on-topic discussion.[3] The noun troll may also refer to the provocative message itself, as in: "That was an excellent troll you posted."While the word troll and its associated verb trolling are associated with Internet discourse, media attention in recent years has made such labels subjective, with trolling describing intentionally provocative actions and harassment outside of an online context. For example, mass media has used troll to describe "a person who defaces Internet tribute sites with the aim of causing grief to families."[4][5]
Basically, I describe an internet troll as the world's biggest loser.  This is a person (or people, because I'm certain there are a whole lot of them out there) who gets his or her kicks from reading blogs and posting nasty comments just to make trouble.  These people are cowards, hiding behind the name of "Anonymous" and attacking people who are using the internet to express themselves.  Some people would consider these trolls as bullies, but I don't.  Bullying involves an imbalance of power, like an older child picking on a younger one, or the federal government imposing ridiculous education mandates on our children in return for financial reimbursement.  These trolls have no power.  They are weak, miserable people who think that putting others down will make themselves feel better.  They particularly prowl parenting blogs, and will attack a parent who has a sick child or who has lost a child.  These trolls are disgusting cowards.  
I feel badly for the people who are vulnerable, like following the loss of a child, that are attacked by these scummy trolls.  It is really just pitiful that adults resort to this behavior for amusement.  Play Candy Crush instead.  It is no more productive, but at least it is not destructive.I write for me.  I write because it helps me.  I hope my friends and family, and even complete strangers enjoy reading what I've written.  I understand that not everyone will agree with me all the time.  I write what is MY opinion, knowing that not everyone supports it (but they should).  If it offends you, then don't read it. 
And if you must comment negatively, have the balls to put your (real) name on the comment.  
 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on May 14, 2013 10:39

May 13, 2013

And Oldie...Reflections on a Decade

I was just combing through my Facebook page, and found my 'Notes' section.  Most are relatively humorous  questionnaires, but I found this one that I had written on December 31, 2009.  It is hard to believe that it was almost 3 1/2 years ago.  I thought I'd post it here, because it seems like it was my first real blog...Enjoy!

When I was a child, I figured out how old I would be when it turned the year 2000. I would have just turned 24 years old. I would be married and have kids and I would never have fun anymore. 

When the new millenium arrived, I indeed had just turned 24. I had just finished PT school with my Master's Degree. Unfortunately, there were no PT jobs to be found. I was living with my parents, working for my mother in her office and shuttling my grandmother to doctor's apppointments, as she had just been in a car accident and diagnosed with cancer. I was studying for my boards as well. There was no man in sight, let alone a husband. Although I was ready to move on from the college lifestyle, I was sad at having left my "independent" life and my dear friends. I was without a plan and without a direction. 

Fast forward a decade. For those who can do math, I am now 34. My life is virtually unrecognizable from a decade age. I have been blessed in infinite ways, and had a lot of dumb luck too. While home after leaving school, I reconnected with a childhood friend. When the poor job market for physical therapy cost her her job, she followed her sister to Ohio, and I followed my friend. I immediately met a man who intrigued me and apparently I intrigued him as well. We were married less than 18 months after meeting. 

I began working with severely disabled children, first in schools, then in a care facility. I got my first job by showing up for a second interview that was not scheduled (apparently, I mixed up what county I was going to and no-showed for someone else's interview). I loved the job, but was very unsure of myself. I put on a false bravado and "fake it 'til you make it" was my motto. Unfortunately the job was in Cincinnati and my true love was in Columbus, so that job only lasted for one school year. 

After Patrick and I were married, we lived a carefree life. We traveled a little, but not enough. We honeymooned in Paris, went to South Dakota, Florida and took weekend trips to Boston, Cleveland and Chicago. Patrick finished his degree and we found ourselves expecting our first child. Our wonderful downtown townhouse was not suitable for a baby, so we decided to move east. Although the plan was to end up in the Boston area, we decided to stay in New York for a "little while." We bought our first home together and set about refurbishing and getting ready for baby. I was again working in a school for severely disabled children and was sure that I could leave my baby at day care every morning. 

Jacob Philip was born on February 21, 2004 after a very long and tenuous labor and delivery. The next day, Patrick was hired by Tokoyo Electron and found out he would be working in Arizona for the next few months. It was a hard start, and I knew that I could not leave Jake in daycare. I left that job and again had no plan. The very next day, I received a call from a local hospital who wanted me to work evenings. Although I never wanted to work in outpatient ("I am not treating 40 year-olds with low back pain!"), the hours fit the lifestyle, so off I went. 

I went back to school and received my doctorate as I was mothering an infant and working part-time. We soon realized that our house would not be big enough if we wanted to continue expanding our family and we set about on a massive renovation process. It was a very difficult year that necessitated us moving out of our house and a lot of heartbreak, stress, tears and yelling. I still don't know if I can say that the end result was worth it, but we do love our house and are trying to focus on the positives of the situation. 

In the midst of the renovation process, we found ourselves about to become parents again. On August 12, 2007, Sophia Dorothy entered our family. Upon holding her and Jake, I had a sense that our family was complete. I continued working in the outpatient clinic and began working with kids again on the side. It was very hectic and I was stressed all the time. 

As Jake entered Kindegarten, I felt that I needed to manage my time better so that I could be a better mother and wife. I returned to the schools so that I could be on the same schedule as my son. I made the decision to send my daughter to a babysitter's for short periods of time, and this time I was ok with it. 

My life is about structure and routine. I work because I love what I do. I feel that I make a difference in people's lives, and that is important to me. I still dance because it makes me happy. I have a beautiful home that is often messy, but its where my children play and grow. My husband does not say a lot, but he is my backbone and we support each other. There are times when I yearn for more or wish for a different lifestyle, but a hug and kiss from my children snaps me back to reality and I am happy where I am. I have old friends and new friends and friends who I have found again. There have been many tears in the last decade, but the peals of giggles from my little ones wipes them away. There is some amount of heartbreak and worry, especially for my son, that will forever weigh my heart down. Yet, somehow, the added weight helps me to stand taller. 

The decade did not start out how I planned. I cannot say that it ended how I planned, either, because I have stopped having daydreams about how things should be. What I can say is that I have been blessed beyond belief. I can only wish that others feel the sense of peace and contentment and pure bliss that I feel when I am with my family and look at the wonderful life Patrick and I have created together. That, and I wish for a mini-van.

(5/13/13:  I got the mini-van almost 2 years ago, just incase anyone was wondering.  I realize that it makes me super un-cool, but I can't pass up how functional it is, and I'm all for anything that makes my life easier.  But sometimes, I pretend that it's a Porsche Cayenne.)


 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on May 13, 2013 18:18