Kathryn R. Biel's Blog, page 2

It's Not About You

#flattenthecurve

#stopthespread

#washyourhands

I feel like I'm about to beat a dead horse, but since I've already had this conversation with at least three people today, I will share it here.

It's not about you.

This is not about whether you get sick or not. It's not about whether you are in the high-risk group or not. It's not about what you had planned. It's not about your comfort or ease of life. It's not about your losses. It's not about you.

We are in an uncertain time. Unprecedented really, as society as we now know it did not exist the last time there was a pandemic of this proportion. And yes, some of this sucks. Really sucks. But we are not closing schools and canceling everything out of panic. We're canceling because of science.

COVID-19 is a novel virus. Our bodies have never seen it before and therefore have no immunity or way of fighting it. That is why it is so communicable. Thankfully, children don't seem to be getting sick with it. But perhaps are they the ones spreading it? Who knows. We won't know until widespread testing becomes available. But with the current rates of transmission, could it reach a 100% infection rate?

We don't know.

What we do know is that in about 80% of the population, they are fine, even asymptomatic if infected. That's great news. Except for the 20% who get sick, they get really sick. Really, really, fatally sick. So sick that this 20% could (and would) immediately overwhelm the health-care system. This is what has happened in Italy and Iran and the Wuhan Province. Overwhelmed to the point where there are no resources available. Overwhelmed to the point where a doctor (or nurse or PA or whatever pair of hands is there to help) must decide which patients receive treatment and which don't. Essentially, who may live and who will definitely die. If the health care system becomes this overwhelmed to the point of collapse, we can expect a massive fatality rate from COVID-19. How many loved ones are you willing to lose?

The whole purpose in social distancing is to prevent the health care system from being overwhelmed. It is being referred to as "flattening the curve." Sometimes scientific graphs and statistics can get boring, so look at it in terms of a cat.

We know this works. We have historical, epidemiological data to support it. In 1918, when the soldiers came home from WWI, they brought the Spanish Influenza with them. The 1918 Spanish Influenza pandemic infected approximately 500 million people worldwide (an estimated 1/3 of the world's population) and killed 50 million (10% of those infected, or roughly 3% of the world's population). Philadelphia reported it's first case in September 1918, and then held a parade to celebrate the end of WWI, in which over 200,000 people were estimated to attend. The city went on quarantine by October 3. At the peak of the disease, 250 people per 1000 were dying. A few hundred miles to the west, the first case of Spanish flu was recorded in St. Louis on October 5. The city went into quarantine on October 7. At peak, around 50 people per 1000 were dying. Why? Social distancing to stop the spread of the disease.

If the graphs aren't your thing, you can think of it this way:

South Korean, Hong Kong, and Taiwan have shut down and are containing this disease. They are also doing widespread testing. Wuhan, Iran, and Italy are not. We know how those stories are unfolding.

So what can we do?

Wash your hands. Take a deep breath (but only if you are not close to other people). This is scary. This is uncertain. Cover your cough and sneeze. Be patient. We are all struggling with this. Practice social distancing. If you must go out, try to keep about 6 feet in between you and the next person. Limit when and why you go out. If it's non-essential, maybe it's a sacrifice you can make for the short-term. Try and go out at non-peak hours to reduce your interaction with people. Wash your hands. Any time you are out, before touching things, after touching things. Wash your hands. Carry hand sanitizer and clean when you get in the car. Wipe down your commonly touched areas, like doorknobs and counters and light switches. Accept that life will be altered for the time being. We are doing this for the greater good of society and not overwhelm the healthcare system. We don't want a 20% worldwide fatality rate. That would really suck. Give the doctors and nurses and therapists a chance to save people. Give people a chance to live. Wash your hands. Read a book (I've got several on sale to get you through this time). Support local and small businesses through online sales and off-peak business. Let's keep Mom and Pop shops afloat. Be patient. For the love of God, don't use this as a time to go out and socialize. The point in shuttering businesses and activities is to prevent people from being together. It's not a time to go to the movies or the trampoline park or the mall. Go outside. Breathe the fresh air. Take this chance to practice reducing, reusing, and recycling. Maybe our environment will be a better place after all this if everything isn't single-use and disposable.

This is it, people. It's our time to stand up and work for the greater good by staying put. It's our time to learn how to be resilient. To tough it out through hard times and grow as kind, compassionate human beings.

And maybe, just maybe, history will look back and also call us a Great Generation.

Telling stories of resilient women with humor, heart, and a happy ending, Kathryn R. Biel is an award-winning author of numerous women's fiction, romantic comedy, and contemporary romance books. Her newest book, Seize the Day: The UnBRCAble Women Series, #2, released November 7, 2019.

Coming Around Again

Admit it, now you've got the song in your head. But this post isn't about Carly Simon. It's about my house.

16 years ago last night, my husband and I spent our first night in this house. We weren't even fully moved in. Most of the furniture in the house was the new stuff we'd purchased. Our bed was just our mattress on the floor in the spare bedroom. Let me tell you, getting up off of that at 7 months pregnant wasn't tons of fun.

We'd bought this little 2 bedroom ranch because we saw the potential. Sure it was ugly from the outside, but you couldn't even see if from the road because of the random overgrowth of plants and trees in the front.

The inside had great rooms with one small problem-- the decor. The previous owner liked country. And not country chic. Straight up country with florals and wallpaper and different colored carpeting and little hearts and Amish people.

Obviously, we had our work cut out for us.

We took down wallpaper and pulled up carpeting. We installed hardwood floors. We painted. We redid everything but the bathroom (pure 50's brown bliss) and the kitchen. We knew the kitchen would need a major overhaul but it was functional for the time being with its 18" wide oven and Philco side-by-side that put off so much heat it melted the chocolate in the neighboring cabinet.

One of the things we noticed was that the previous owner, in addition to wielding a mean stencil, was quite adept with contact paper. There was contact paper on the cabinets. There was contact paper on the wall (a quite good patch around the telephone jack). There was contact paper on the stovetop. There was even contact paper (4 layers of it, actually) on the kitchen counter.

stencilings

She was really good at contact paper.

Eventually, we put a massive addition onto our house, including redoing, well, everything (partially the plan and partially due to an incompetent contractor). Due to the contractor's incompetence (and frank shady business practices), some things in our house were never finished.

Like our kitchen island. It's massive--10 feet long. We designed it that way. It's where we eat every day, reserving the dining room table for Thanksgiving and storage for every piece of crap that floats through our house.

Our contractor painted one wall in the kitchen but not the rest. It was fine. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do there anyway. The kitchen is open with the dining room. Now mind you, we designed this ourselves, 13 years ago before "open concept" was the most asked for item on HGTV.

load-bearing

So for a few years, we just had white in the kitchen. Eventually, I put a backsplash in.

But the underside of the island, the one that faces our dining room, was only primed. Cleaning it was next to impossible, as the primer couldn't hold up. The drywall even began tearing. All in all, a real eyesore.

Because of the granite countertop, finishing the backside of the island in something like wainscoting would be a massive undertaking. One my husband has no interest in exploring.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled across some peel and stick tiles at a craft store. Suddenly, I knew how I was going to finish the island. The hubs hated the tiles I purchased--they were Moroccan inspired in blues, yellows, and reds. He thought they'd be too busy and loud on a 10 foot stretch in our island. He was probably right. After a few days of combing websites, I finally found a tile I liked at Lowes. This morning, after dropping my son off at swim practice (7:30 am, totally awesome!), I made a pit stop and bought the most perfect peel and stick tile.

Within a few hours, the island is done. However, the irony is not lost on me. 16 years after we laughed at all the contact paper in our kitchen, here I am, contct papering the kitchen.

And now I totally understand why Mrs. Julian contact papered everything. My house looks pretty and it was in my wheelhouse to do it. No contractors, no husbands, no mess.

As Carly so eloquently said, "If you're willing to play the game, it's coming around again."

Game on.

Telling stories of resilient women with humor, heart, and a happy ending, Kathryn R. Biel is an award-winning author of numerous women's fiction, romantic comedy, and contemporary romance books. Her newest book, Seize the Day: The UnBRCAble Women Series, #2, released November 7, 2019.

Christmas Hacks for Moms with Littles

Batten down the hatches. We're about to hit zero hour. The week before Christmas is upon us. It's the week when we try to do all the things, and the kids are nuts, and there's another concert or pageant and you have to wear what and dear Lord, am I tired.

I need Christmas cookies, stat.

To eat, not to bake, obviously, because who has time for that?

So, I'm going to offer you some tips. Obviously, there's more than one way to do things, but read a bit to understand these hacks to save yourself a bit of sanity over the next two weeks. This works best for those moms just starting out, so please feel free to share with your mom friends and those with babies or small toddlers. It's best to get in with these tricks from the getgo.

Hack #1: Stolen from my mom

Santa doesn't wrap presents.

Okay, hear me out. This is sort of genius. Santa doesn't wrap presents. How can he with all those presents?

What this does for you is four-fold:

A. It saves time by being less presents for you to wrap. Who doesn't want to save time right about now? Make those odd-shaped presents from Santa and save yourself even more headaches.

B. It prevents the matching of wrapping paper or handwriting on gift tags. Maybe this buys you an extra year or two of believing (and therefore the power to use Santa to get good behavior for at least a few days before Christmas).

C. It identifies what's from Santa and what's from Mom/Dad/Grandparents/Siblings, so that the actual people in a child's life may get some credit for gift giving.

D. It adds a visually stunning aspect to Christmas morning. Not only are there wrapped gifts, but then you can see the big thing! Kids may actually stop and play with a gift for a few seconds before tearing through all the wrapping paper, undoing hours of hard work in 9.2 seconds.

Hack #2: Stolen from a work colleague

Santa gives one present. It's usually the big thing, which can in reality be a set or two combined, but there's only one main thing from Santa. The rest is from family. You bought the gifts; you should get the credit. The best gifts, like electronics, should be from the parents.

Hack #3: I came up with this on my own

Family Fun Day

If you have the luxury of this (which I know I'm fortunate to have), we have a family fun day the Sunday before Christmas. On this day, my husband (or sometimes my parents) take the kids out and do something fun. A movie. Bowling. Making gingerbread houses. I don't really know and I don't really care. All I know is EVERYONE leaves the house for 3-4 hours in which time I pull out all the gifts, sort, figure out if I need anything else, and wrap. I put some Christmas music on, make some cocoa, and spread the wrapping stuff all over the dining room floor. I don't have to worry about anyone walking in or anything. Everyone else has fun and I have peace of mind knowing the wrapping is done without me staying up until the wee hours of the morning, which, working 2 jobs, I really can't do.

Hack #4: Another Stroke of Genius from Me

Everyone gets their own wrapping paper.

I usually buy two rolls per person, so I don't run out. Then, when I'm having my wrapping party, I wrap all of the gifts for one person at a time, plowing through because I don't have to keep searching for paper. Time-efficient, which we all need.

But wait, there's more. If I don't get a chance to put gift tags on them, or the gift tags fall off, I STILL KNOW WHO GETS WHAT GIFT because they're color-coded. Also, if only one present is from Santa, and it isn't wrapped, then you could possibly get away with not doing gift tags at all, if everything else is from you. More time saved, right there.

Okay, I know I haven't cured cancer here, but if these tips can make your life a little easier, Momma, then consider them my gift to you. And I won't judge you if you keep all the good cookies for yourself.

Merry Christmas!

Telling stories of resilient women with humor, heart, and a happy ending, Kathryn R. Biel is an award-winning author of numerous women's fiction, romantic comedy, and contemporary romance books. Her newest book, Seize the Day: The UnBRCAble Women Series, #2, released November 7, 2019.

'Twas the Night Before Pub ...

'Twas the night before pub and all through the place,I know I should be writing instead of staring into space.
There's reviews to seek and ads to make,Yet all I can do is eat another piece of cake.


It's true--I want all the cake. Oh, and it is indeed the night before release for my thirteenth book, Ready for Whatever (The UnBRCAble Women Series, #1). I'm in love with this book on so many levels, but let's start with the most basic. Would you look at this incredible cover?


But more important is the story behind the conception of this book. Rewind to last July. On Sunday, I finished going over the first draft of Paradise by the Dashboard Light and submitted it to my editor. Monday, July 8, left me without a current work in progress (WIP). In my head, I was going to write the women's fiction/family drama that I'd been taking notes for. However, my title for that book began with S. I needed an R title.

(Yes, I title my books in alphabetical order. It's a long story. Also, Q and P were reversed in release order due to issues beyond my control, but I didn't want to let that happen again. I've got some compulsion issues.) 

Monday, July 8, 2018, I literally spent 2 hours searching for those files on my computer. When I finally found them and tried to write, it was like trying to get milk from a stone. I spent the day, even at the pool with my kids, feeling tremendous pressure to write but not being able to. I was also battling tremendous feelings of anxiety. My friend, Erin Huss, was three-thousand miles away, undergoing a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction due to a predisposition to breast cancer.

I hadn't wanted to tell her this, but I'd talked to a few women who'd had disastrous prophylactic mastectomy experiences. I was nervous for her. All day I stalked not only hers but her husband's social media, looking for an update. I messaged mutual friends to see if they'd heard anything. Around 9:30 pm, I dozed off (what can I say, I like to go to bed early).

As my anxiety ratcheted up (why does sleep seem to do that?), my mind raced, set to the soundtrack of Mama Mia!, which I'd seen that weekend. If you want to feel stress, play Super Troopers on a loop in your brain and see how relaxed you feel.

I woke up in the middle of the night to find this message from Erin:

Still a Winner After All These Years

The year was 1989. I was a mere 13 years old, babysitting for the next door neighbors while they had a night out on the town. The kids were safely tucked in their beds, and I put on the TV. Just in time to catch the beginning of the second half of Gone with the Wind.

I'd never seen this movie, but I'd been aware of the book for years, as a battered copy sat on my mother's bookshelf.

Ok, so it's a bit more battered, but yes, this is it.

When I got home, I told my mother and had all sorts of questions. What happened with Ashley? Did he tell Scarlett he would marry her?

My mom, ever the dedicated reader, was disappointed that I saw the movie first. It was then that this battered, 862-page classic became mine. So I read it. Twice. And then I saw the movie. And then I bought a copy of the screenplay while on vacation.
Luckily, it was the 50th anniversary of the movie, so there was lots of memorabilia available. And then my mom began getting me the plates from the Bradford Exchange, and eventually the Barbie dolls to go with them. The plates and Barbies are still in my old room at my parents' house.

Disclaimer: These are not pictures of MY actual plates or Barbies, but these are the ones I have.








Within the year, I was dreaming up a continuation to the story. I mean, it couldn't really end there, without Scarlett and Rhett together. Of course, my story, which I thought about on many nights alone in my room as a teen, involved Scarlett getting Rhett back via his relationship with her other two children, Wade Hamilton and Ella Kennedy. 'Cause let's face it, Rhett's a good guy and wouldn't cut the kids out simply because of their mother. 
Then came the whole Scarlett sequel and TV movie debacle, which I boycotted, and I moved on.
But now, 30 years later, I'm a writer, amongst other things. I still list Gone with the Wind as my favorite book, though I haven't read it since high school. But I get totally pissed off when people (ahem, looking at you Goodreads) list it as a romance. It is so NOT a romance. A romance has a sufficiently optimistic ending with a happily ever after or a happily for now with the romantic couple. Rhett storming out 2/3 of the way down page 861 when the book ends on page 862 does not provide for the HEA we all want Scarlett and Rhett to have.
Let's face it, Gone with the Wind is straight-up women's fiction. Historical women's fiction, but women's fiction nonetheless.
Today my BFF and I went to see it in the theater for the 80th anniversary. My mom and her BFF went too (separate from us) because, well, apples and trees. Walking out, my mom said, "I can still quote every word." I agreed, and probably can as well. Again, apples and trees.
The theater was packed and something was different this time. People laughed. Thanks to the wonderful acting of Hattie McDaniel (who so deserved her Oscar) and Clark Gable, the wit of Sydney Howard's screenplay was brought to life in a way I'd never noticed before. I would almost say that the movie, with the exception of the setting/time period, presents as a romantic comedy. Probably not what David O. Selznik was going for eighty years ago.
With my writer's cap on, I've done a lot of analysis. What Margaret Mitchell and then Sydney Howard did was take a protagonist who's really unlikable and get you rooting for her. Sure, in the first half of the movie, she acts like a selfish brat. As the movie progresses, you see Scarlett grow into a woman willing to sacrifice everything, including herself, to protect the ones she loves. No, she doesn't always go about it in the best way. But man, you gotta love her for not letting people tell her what women could and couldn't do. Scarlett grows and that's what we want from any protagonist. It'd be hard to root for Melanie the whole time because she starts off so wonderfully to begin with.
Oh, and Ashley-- What a jerk. If he only had the balls to say what he meant and not want to have his cake and eat it too, well, the book (and movie) would be a lot shorter.
But man, Rhett Butler. Swoon. The perfect character. Absolutely imperfectly perfect in every way.

"You should be kissed and often. And by someone who knows how."

If you haven't read/seen the book, sorry for the spoilers. The book's been out for 84 years and the movie for 80. It's your fault at this point. 

About That Time I Accidentally Started a Twitter Feud ...

To anyone who's been around romancelandia this year, or to anyone who scrolls through Twitter with a bowl of popcorn, it should come as no surprise that sometimes people get into it on Twitter. A lot of times, it's a case of people behaving badly.



This one's on me.

No one behaved badly, but feelings were hurt. And for that, I am deeply sorry and greatly apologize.

You see, I was (and still am) coming from a good place. I'm still okay with my original post, which was, to me, a very funny graphic about rom-com books. It was designed by my friend and fellow author, Whitney Dineen. She, like many rom-com authors, got fed up with defending her preferred genre from yet another person who dismissed her accomplishments because she only writes romance and romantic comedies (as opposed to literary fiction or something that is apparently better-- you know, real books). I'd like to say that Whitney's experience was unusual and someone was having a bad day, but it's not. We've all been there.Unfortunately.

Romantic comedies, and their kissing cousins Chick Lit, are some of the least respected books out there. Most brick and mortar bookstores barely have a romance section, let alone one for romantic comedy. Look on Amazon too. Many of the covers that Amazon lists in its romantic comedy section suggest, by the amount of bare skin, washboard abs, and pectoral muscles, that the emphasis is on the romance and not the comedy. Because of this, it's really, really, REALLY hard for rom-com books to be found.

So, after yet another slight, Whitney (who is hilariously funny in both her writing and real life), made a graphic. It's so very Whitney.


She requested it be shared, along with the #RespectTheRomCom tag.

I did.

But then a well-respected, super awesome author didn't like what this graphic had to say. It grated on her. And she began to wonder if she did actually write rom-com, because some of these things don't fit her writing. Which she mused about on Twitter, and her readers replied and commented.

I love this writer. She's an auto-buy for me.

I love Whitney Dineen. She's an auto-buy for me.

They have two totally different styles and personalities. Their books, while both being considered rom-coms, are not necessarily similar. I do think one reader could/would enjoy both. I do think readers should enjoy both.

The very last thing I wanted was for people (writers and readers alike) who enjoy romantic comedies to be arguing and splitting hairs about whether a book has all of these points listed above or not and whether that precludes it from being a romantic comedy.

I am sorry to both authors.

This graphic is what romantic comedies are to Whitney Dineen. I agree with many of the points. I don't think it's an end-all, be-all list. I also know for a fact, that Whitney was being funny because that is who she is and what she does. If it's not your sense of humor, then that's fine. If you are yes-ing every point, then that's fine.

If you're still reading this, then that's fine too. (It's better than fine. It's really cool, so thanks.)

My point in sharing this graphic was to gain support for the rom-com community, not drive it apart. I hope everyone is okay with this, and we can all move on.



In summation, rom-coms are valid books that are an important part of our world because going through life without a sense of humor is like driving in a car without shocks. It gets you there, but man do you feel every bump and jolt along the way.

No matter how you define a romantic comedy, please remember to #RespectTheRomCom.

(And eat cake)

Laugh It Off

One of the fabulous authors I've come to know and love along my journey is Erin Huss. We met and became fast friends, instantly bonded with a sense of humor and shared parenting experiences with children who are not neuro-typical.

To put it mildly, 2018 has not been Erin's year. She's having some medical issues, and yesterday she wrote a blog post about finding The Silver Lining in it all. I'll wait for you to go read her blog post and then come back.

No, seriously. Go read her post. The rest of this post won't make sense unless you do.

So like the friend I am, I wrote her some nice words of encouragement. Despite the fact that people pay money to read my books, sometimes I'm not the most eloquent. I also use inappropriate humor as a defense mechanism. So I sent Erin a message that said this,

"Hang in there. Eventually shit will go right. You can meme that."

The following pictures are what happened next.


So let's take a minute to reflect on this profound statement.


 Meme courtesy of Erin Huss. Sentiment by Kathryn R. Biel.

Oh, this was us (plus our other friend, Heather McCoubrey) at the RONE Awards last October. My favorite picture from the night.

How Rude!

This was my feeling after the weekend dance recital. Let me clarify--my dance recital. It was also my daughter's recital. I guess we should call it our dance recital. But still, I want to go all Stephanie Tanner on the audience.
Let me set the stage (see what I did there?):
We dance at a decent-sized family run studio. I've been with this studio since I was 5. The people there are like my family, and my dance girls are my crew. Many of us have children now dancing as well, and it's fantastic to see the next generation rising up. The studio is non-competitive. We don't have teams and there's a welcoming atmosphere. The studio is inclusive, including all shapes, sizes, and abilities. While we strive to do our best, it's certainly not a Dance Moms atmosphere, and I don't think any of us are auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance? That's not why we're there. We're there because we love to dance.
Week after week, parents schlep their kids in and out. Lesson after lesson, rehearsal after rehearsal, all working up toward our end of the year recital. In the interest of keeping a manageable length show (2 hours or less), we perform over two days. Some of the numbers are the same, but for most of the younger kids (ages 12 and under), they are only in one day. It's not a big commitment. About the same as a baseball game. I have a friend whose two sons play ball in school, rec, and travel teams. Not exaggerating, her family will have close to 100 baseball games this year. That's about 200 hours, not including travel time and practice time. So asking family and friends to sit for two hours once doesn't seem like a lot.
But apparently, it was too much for most people. We opened with a fun production number including 25-30 students from ages 9 to well, adult (my class). It was to Time Warp. Who in their right mind can't help but tap their toes to that? Let me give you a guess--the entire audience. We often joke that the audience doesn't appreciate the hard steps we're doing but will applaud for the easiest thing. That's usually true, except for this year. The audience gave minimal, obligatory applause at the end of the dances. No encouragement. No clapping. No laughter. No NOTHING during the dances. It didn't matter if it was adorable three-year-old in tutus, or a handsome 6 year-old boy tap dancing to My Boyfriend's Back, the most moving lyrical dance, or a pointe dance to Walk This Way. FYI, do you know how hard it is to do a pointe dance to Walk This Way? For this 42 year-old, it was HARD. But I did it. 
And the audience did nothing.
Actually, that's a lie. They did a lot. There was a lot of talking to neighbors. So much so that it interfered with people watching the show. There were quite a few people on their phones. You see, the house lights weren't as dim as they should have been, so as we were out on stage, dancing our hearts out, we could see. See that the audience didn't care. We could see the people standing up and walking around during our dance. Did you know when you stand up, the people behind you can't see? Did you know that even if you don't care, they may want to see who is dancing up on stage? 
I understand that some of the numbers weren't terrific. I understand that it wasn't like seeing the people dance on TV. Much like watching a Little League game is nothing like watching the Red Sox. The growth and improvement in these kids over the course of a year is incredible, and there's something hugely rewarding about watching little kids grow up and blossom into beautiful dancers.  Every single student on stage poured their hearts out, and the audience was too involved in their phones and conversations and snacks to care. 
It makes it hard to get out there when you get nothing back from the audience. I get that dance may not be your thing, but show some respect people. Respect the teachers who worked countless hours to teach your child and bring out their best. Respect the studio who wants nothing but to see your child shine. And for the love of God, show some respect to the students--all the students, not just your own-- who are out there dancing their hearts out for you. 
Here's the take home message for anyone attending a dance recital (or concert or game or play or any event in which people, but especially kids, are out there, doing their best to entertain you):
How to Be Present in the Moment:
Sit downShut upPut your phone awayShow your appreciation of all the hard work
Frankly, that's probably good advice for most things. 

Sacred Things

Some things you need to know about me.

I like pretty dresses, especially gowns. If I could wear a gown every day, I'd be happy.I don't get abstract art, including haute couture fashion.I am Roman Catholic.This morning, I went to mass. I don't often go during the week, but this was a funeral for a family member. Even though I'd never set foot in that church before today, I knew what to expect, what do do, how to show reverence, and how to go about giving a reading. After 12 years of Catholic school, I've been to a lot of church. That being said, I don't go as much as I should, and I don't live as well as a Catholic should. I may not be the best, most pious Catholic, but my faith and my church is very important to me. I've made the sacraments of baptism, reconciliation, eucharist, confirmation, and marriage within the church. I will have a Catholic funeral someday as well. Like I said, not the best Catholic in the world, but definitely Catholic.
And I am offended by several of the looks at the Met Gala last night.
My religion is not a fashion statement. Rosary beads are not jewelry or accessories. Halos are not the same as tiaras and crowns. The Blessed Virgin is not a costume. The Pope is not something to be sexualized. Priests' and nuns' habits are not immodest. The cross is not a decoration.
Some of the fashion didn't seem religious at all. There were several angel outfits, including Katy Perry, which were secular heavenly creatures. Arianna Grande wore a gown made from the print of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. While certainly religious in inspiration, did not mock or inappropriately use Catholic items. None of those bothered me.

What did bother me was crosses randomly sewn on gowns that would not be allowed in the Catholic Church due to their revealing nature (Kim Kardashian). The Catholic Church is considered God's house and as such, respect must be shown when entering. This includes not bearing cleavage or wearing a dress so short that your pubic area may or may not be visible. 
What bothered me was Lana del Rey dressed as Our Lady of Sorrows. 
Rihanna dressed as the Pope, the leader of the Catholic church, while wearing a strapless, micro-mini dress. AKA "sexy pope."
I saw "fashion" based upon the habits of the clergy, complete with cut-outs, bare shoulders and midriffs, and cleavage. Our clergy dress very modestly. 
I saw the birth of the Lord depicted as headwear. 
I saw an interview with Tracee Ellis Ross who said she picked fuschia because on "the third Sunday of Lent, the clergy wears pink to remind us of the coming joy." She struggled to remember those words. She should have rehearsed more because it is the fourth Sunday of Lent, otherwise known as Laetare Sunday. For the record, Tracee Ellis Ross is Jewish.
In this day and age, cultural appropriation gets thrown around a lot. A white teenager gets skewered on social media for wearing an Asian-inspired prom gown. Halloween is a veritable minefield of what you can and cannot wear. Never is it appropriate to make a race/nationality/heritage sexy.
So why is it acceptable to do this to the Catholic Church?
The answer is, it's not. 
I know the Vatican approved the theme this year and lent some artifacts for display. However, that doesn't mean that it's open season on my religion.While some of the "offenders" are at least Catholic, many are not. This, for me, makes it that much worse. I would never be allowed to show up in a traditional African dress or sexy Muslim outfit. Of course, I never would because it's insensitive. 
I understand that there is a level of artistry to haute couture that is beyond me. Some of the outfits last night were stunning. Some were horrendous. Regardless of the taste level or style, please don't use my faith and religion as a fashion statement.
My religion, and all the sacred aspects of it, are not accessories. Please don't treat them that way.

Branding and Bullying

No, I'm not talking about what they do to cattle, although I sort of am.

When you own a business, branding is very important. You want to create a look/icon/symbol that instantly make the consumer think of your business. Everyone knows what brand the swoosh represents. I don't even have to put a picture of it up. You know who and what I'm talking about from a simple word.

Over the past few months, I've been working on my own brand. You might have noticed that blogspot is no longer my primary website. I've got a beautiful new page at www.kathrynrbiel.com. I've been working on my graphics as well (mostly because I needed new business cards and signs for upcoming book signings). I had a tagline ("Telling stories of resilient women") that I've been using, but it's slowly evolved into: Telling Stories of Resilient Women with Humor, Heart, and a Happy Ending. My husband thinks I'm giving away the ending to all my books. I want the reader to know what to expect (i.e., while there may be some tears or two, my books will not gut you). But anyway, I think I've finally got a look. I hope eventually, if you see my font or those colors or that heart, it reminds you of me and you come looking for a good read.



That's the way it's supposed to work.

Except one author has taken it too far. This past week, an author in the romance community trademarked a very common word used in romance books (cocky). Although she was just granted the trademark (April 2018), she had it retroactively reinstated to the date of her first publication (June 2016, I believe). She is sending Cease and Desist notices to every romance author who uses the word "cocky" in their titles, for all books published after June 2016. She is also lobbying Amazon to have these books removed because they "violate" her trademark.

This is what the author claims (copied directly from her Twitter feed): "I receive letters from readers who lost money thinking they bought my series. I’m protecting them and that’s what trademarks are meant for."

Definitely cocky.

Because here are three main things that I find problematic with her statement:

Books (and e-books, much to my chagrin) are returnable. That's right. You can purchase and download and e-book and then return it. People do it. ALL THE FLIPPIN' TIME. (There are some exceptionally douchey people who buy the book, read it, and then return it, but that's a post for another day.) If this author's readers purchased a book in error, they could return it and not lose money.This author is under the assumption that the other books with cocky in the title are no good and therefore equate to a loss of money. That may or may not be true. I'm willing to bet there's at least one good cocky book out there by a different author. And a good book, regardless of the author, is not a waste of money.This is the important one. Ready? If this author's readers KNEW WHO SHE WAS, they would search by NAME not TITLE. Think about that. It's a heck of a lot easier to remember that I want to read the next Penny Reid book or the next Kristan Higgins book or the next Courtney Milan book than what the book titles are. Even after I've read them, I sometimes have trouble recalling the title. I have to look them up. How do I search? BY AUTHOR NAME. This author has a very unique name. Her fans should have no trouble remembering it. If she had been successful in her branding, she wouldn't have to stoop to this low.

Her "reasons" don't hold weight with me. Her responses on social media are unbelievable. And now she's claiming she's finally received a movie deal that she's backing (turns out, it was crowd funded). She's attacking other authors on social media (including Goodreads) accusing them of not only violating her trademark, but of plagiarism too. I've seen screenshots of the letter this author sent to other authors threatening with a lawsuit and financial damage if the other author doesn't change the title.

Incredibly cocky.

Unfortunately, she's another example of "Authors Behaving Badly." It's under the larger heading of "People Behaving Badly," or as I like to call it, "WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Several groups, including the Romance Writers of America, are working to help the authors affected by this one bad apple. If you're active on Twitter or other social media, you may have heard about all of this.

Normally, I find the author world, especially romancelandia very supportive. I hope this is an abnormality. A blip in the radar.

Oh, and thank you Jessica Biel for not trademarking your last name. In all honesty, you had the name first. I married into it. I won't trademark it on you either.