Susan Thatcher's Blog, page 20
July 21, 2013
These Foolish Things Now Available in Paperback!
Hot damn! I am not only published, but it’s available through Amazon as a paperback.!
You can order through this link:
These Foolish Things Paperback!
Order yours today!
July 18, 2013
Be A Character in The Baldie Chronicles
The NEXT person to offer a review on Amazon for These Foolish Things (and throw one on Goodreads, too, if you’re there) WILL have a character named after him/her in The Baldie Chronicles, the prequel to These Foolish Things and currently being written.
Just go to the Amazon site, write a review and BAM! you will be immortalized in print (should you prefer an actual book) and pixels (Fun with Kindle).
Why, thank you
When someone compliments you, how do you respond? Do you deflect it (“You wouldn’t believe what I paid for it.”) or devalue it (“Oh, you’re kidding. My hair’s such a mess!”)?
We (and I’m talking mostly women) aren’t really good with accepting a compliment. Why is that? Do we think the person offering the compliment will think us conceited if we just accept it? We’re an “advanced” society (yes, I used the parentheses on purpose. Read the news), so it’s not as if we think we’re avoiding the evil eye by deflecting away the good wishes. Are we afraid that the compliment is being used as a wedge to manipulate us? (In some cases, there is an emphatic YES attached to it, but people are usually pretty good at spotting the Iagos among us. Sometimes, you learn that one the hard way. What’s that? Iago? It’s a reference to Shakespeare’s “Othello.” Iago is the bitter, faithless “friend” who manipulates Othello into jealousy and murder. Multiple murders. Iago is a POS)
Revolution From Within – Gloria Steinem
I read Gloria Steinem’s Revolution From Within years ago. It’s a collection of essays about self-esteem (mostly directed at women). She addressed this issue of women having difficulty accepting compliments and how it ties in to self-esteem.
I’ll do that “cost/color” description of something if I got it through a major shopping SCORE (That is finding an extraordinary bargain, like a designer blouse that actually fits and finding it for next to nothing. Since the demise of the REAL Filene’s Basement in downtown Boston, SCORES are harder and harder to find unless you have a thrift store attached to a favorite charity of the local moneyed set). Hey, if I paid $5 for something that would normally cost $99, you can bet your sweet bippy I’ll talk about it (This behavior is the modern form of hunting/gathering known to our cave ancestors. Back then, the men would grunt and gesture over the mammoth that got away. Today, women describe getting a genuine Chanel bag from the consignment store for 10 bucks. We just don’t mount it on the wall).
If you watch teen-aged girls in a mall, you will see the groups of girls talking and laughing together (and sometimes being catty little bitches to total strangers, also indicative of self-esteem issues. Projection). You will also observe the defensive girls: ones drowning in over-sized sweatshirts (hoodies, preferable because more can be covered up) with either the sleeves pulled down and clutched in balled fists or with arms tightly hugging the body. This is defensive body language. Eyes are usually downcast and if she does look up and make contact, it’s either a fleeting glance as the focus returns to the floor or a “What are you lookin’ at?” attitude.
Since I read Ms. Steinem’s book, I have made a practice of walking with my head up and making casual eye contact with people as I go (smile, nod, “Excuse me” as warranted). It doesn’t change my life, but I hear back that people regard me as being self-confident. And when someone compliments me, I say things like “Thank you” or “That’s so kind of you. Thank you!” and leave it at that. So far as I know, nobody has taken these responses as conceited or egotistical.
It’s okay for us to select and wear cool shoes or a great haircut or look good. There’s nothing wrong with singing well or saying something intelligent or writing something that people like (Okay, yeah, that’s my thing).
We are worthy.
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July 17, 2013
A Box of Odds and Ends
If you have read or are reading my book, These Foolish Things, and wanted to see some of the influences for characters, references, let me show you:
Beanie
This was Toulouse, who was my cat from 1996 until his death in 2003. Lively, into everything and he had a silly, fluffy tail that was always in motion because he was always trying to figure out how to beat the humans.
The Pygmalion and Galatea painting:
By Jean-Leon Gerome and hanging in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York). One of my favorite Greek myths. Who really freed whom?
Sydenstricker Glass:
It’s real. And it’s gorgeous.
The poem that Liz can’t remember? The Sun Rising by John Donne (also real) :
BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?
Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run ?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late school-boys and sour prentices,
Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices ;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
Thy beams so reverend, and strong
Why shouldst thou think ?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long.
If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Look, and to-morrow late tell me,
Whether both th’ Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou left’st them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw’st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear, “All here in one bed lay.”
She’s all states, and all princes I ;
Nothing else is ;
Princes do but play us ; compared to this,
All honour’s mimic, all wealth alchemy.
Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,
In that the world’s contracted thus ;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that’s done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere ;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.
There really are baseball fields in Boston’s North End:
Langone Field
And yes, when I played on a corporate softball team, one of the guys hit a bocce player with a foul ball. Another guy hit MY personal softball into the harbor. He liked to claim that he nearly hit a booze cruise, but yeah right, in your dreams, Pal.
And they DO hold the Massachusetts Bar Exam at Boston’s World Trade Center:
I worked there, I took the bar there (twice). I also went to corporate Christmas parties there.
Advice on writing is “write what you know.” I took what I knew and used them as elements. Sadly, there is no Green Dragon Wall or Vincenzo’s, but Eastern Massachusetts is a very cool place.
July 15, 2013
It’s Monday (grumble)
Like today. It’s a Monday, that day legendary in song and joke about being such a bummer for the first day of the work week. Even before the invention of Mark Zuckerberg and the Facebook meme, there were posters:
And a song by the Mamas and Papas claiming, “Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day.”
Of course, 
“Office Space.” Always.
I’m (ahem) between jobs right now, but from May 2012 to January 2013, I had a job I really liked (can’t go into details. Confidentiality agreements, etc.): I had terrific colleagues, good, sane bosses who not only knew what they were doing but also how to deal with people effectively (how often can you say THAT?), I was getting good pay and the work was like solving a puzzle. I could work at my desk plugged into my Zune (yes, Zune) all day. I was deeply disappointed when the assignment ended and I’m just going to put it out to the Universe that I want another one just like it (Okay, if they want to pay me more, they can).
Mondays weren’t such a problem and the weeks flew by.
On the other hand, I’ve had jobs where every Sunday night, I would come down with a migraine headache and/or upset stomach (including barfing) because I had to go back into Hell the next morning (I don’t drink a lot, I don’t do recreational drugs. This was the point in my life that I started compulsive eating as a stress mechanism. I’ve gotten a lot better about it). Those weeks dragged.
Truthfully, I miss the structure of the day job: from 8-5, you know where you’re going to be, you have a rhythm to your day. There is the “you’re making someone else’s money for them” aspect, but it’s feeling productive and knowing you’re earning a paycheck.
Right now, I’m writing the third part of the Elizabeth Gardner trilogy and it’s tough. 
I’m at home, I can be easily distracted (“Bridezillas!” I detest reality TV except for “Mythbusters” and “Deadliest Catch” but there is something truly entertaining about these shrieking harpies. You have to wonder about the saps willing to marry them) but it’s working for myself. It’s tough to keep to an 8-5 (or 9-5 if you discount a lunch hour) structure, but that’s something I need to learn. If I want to make creative writing my job (and I do), I have to treat it like one. The paycheck doesn’t come in a week or two weeks, but one day…
And for now, I’ll just amuse myself with stuff like this…
July 13, 2013
Special Deal – One Week Only
One week only, starting tomorrow, Sunday, July 14, 2013, “These Foolish Things” the debut novel by Susan Thatcher, will be available through Amazon Kindle at the discounted price of $3.99.
Do you have your download yet?
One week only, discounted to $3.99.
July 11, 2013
Enter the Nexus
We have the means of entering our own Nexus. Doing that thing or experience that puts you in joy and leaves you there. I had such an experience in 2000 (which helped me fuel the drive to write These Foolish Things . I got to meet my favorite movie star, George Clooney, and I made him laugh. I walked on clouds for months afterwards and it wasn’t just “I met him” (hubba hubba) but “I made that happen” that was fueling the joy. So,I found a way into the Nexus.
These Foolish Things
In 24 hours, 669 people downloaded These Foolish Things. When I woke up, it was ranked 1136 on the Amazon rankings (free stuff). At midnight, it was # 417.
But wait, there’s more: Reviews appeared on both Amazon and Goodreads.com. Reviews by people I’ve never met. They liked it. They want more.
I’m there, Baby, I’m there.
July 10, 2013
I Am Not My Body
The video of Dustin Hoffman breaking down while describing his epiphany about women not getting a chance if they’re not “pretty” is still a hot topic on Facebook and various other social media.
And what he looked like in drag:
One of my favorite lines in the movie was the response to “I’d like to make her look a little more attractive. How far can you pull back?” “How do you feel about Cleveland?”
So, despite Marie Curie, Margaret Thatcher, Hillary Rodham Clinton, Gloria Steinem and the whole damned Women’s Movement, we’re still valueless unless we are aesthetically pleasing.
Something like this:
Creepy, huh? But this little girl is getting an early education in WHAT REALLY MATTERS: the surface.
With any luck, she’ll grow up to be this:
I don’t ever recall seeing Steve Douchey (Yes, I know I misspelled it. On purpose. I’ve seen the show) or Neil Cavuto dressing sexy for their on-air time. All the women, though: cocktail dresses at 7 AM. Because, God knows, you can’t talk about unrest in Egypt or an airliner crashing without showing some cleavage.
I can give you a list of things that I am, but let’s start with what I am not as these are “feminine” qualities valued in 2013: in my twenties, slender, submissive, ignorant, obsessed with shoes (one bad knee and I twist my ankles in nasty fashion on a regular basis. No stilettos. I’ve tried), quiet or helpless.
I have been on my way out the door to pick up 50 lb. sacks of soil at Lowes and had someone tell me to “put on some lipstick.” My choice of clothing for this particular task was also criticized: you’re wearing what?
The implied sentiment being that I dare not show myself in public unless I’m showered, shaved and styled. Right. I’m going to gussy up to heave BAGS OF DIRT into my car. What was I thinking?
I am overweight (no longer obese), over 40, highly educated (this alone makes me an abomination in some corners of the world) and single. I have always had to buy my own drinks, load/unload my own groceries, kill my own spiders.
I had someone tell me the other day that “women are manipulative” and gave me examples of how her daughter works her husband. I wasn’t raised that way. When I tried the “Daddy’s Little Princess” route, I met with failure (of course, there was some ferocious competition in that department. I hung back and let the two of them duke it out). However, if I could present a cogent argument and shoot down objections, then I would get what I wanted. Was I being raised as a second son? No idea. I do know, however, that I get irritated and disgusted with the smile, pout, wink, charm routine when it’s tried on me. Want to see me roll my eyes? Try that.
I had a law school classmate who used “charm” as her MO (when she wasn’t glaring at people through slitted eyes). Pissed her off that it didn’t work on me. I’ve believed (because that was the education I got) that if you have to resort to putting on a show to get what you want, perhaps you’re not very confident in your abilities to get it on your own.
I am confident in my abilities.
The notion that woman have little or no value beyond their appearance saddens me. We are the majority in the US (and I think in the world), but if we’re so busy making sure our appearance is pleasing to others, the energy and focus that we could bring to bear on issues of social, national and international importance is wasted, especially since there is a tendency to pit women against each other over trivial matters (backstabbing, gossip and cat fights. Real Housewives of Anywhere). The former First Lady and Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton has had her appearance analyzed and mocked for years. Yale Law School? OMG: do you SEE the pantsuits? Most traveled Secretary of State in history? What? Look at the cankles! But…at the same time…the Kardashians are worshiped. None of these women really do anything to earn a living, none have a college degree (did they even graduate high school?) but millions of people can’t get enough of their televised existence.
I was trying to navigate through a crowded parking lot and a guy in a truck hit his brakes to let e walk in front of him. As I passed the driver’s side and gave him the acknowledgement wave, he leaned out the window and yelled, “Smile! You should smile more!’
I had just found out that I’d lost my job and was trying to figure out what the HELL I was going to do and this guy wants to me to smile? Because he thinks I should? I gave up being a people pleaser a loong time ago, Buddy. It’s like Jon Stewart telling Tucker Carlson “I’m not your monkey boy.”
And for those who get, “C’mon, smile!”, I give you this link http://www.ebony.com/news-views/when-i-stopped-asking-women-to-smile-981#axzz2YhEtrgyB
See also Gloria Steinem’s “Revolution from Within” which contain as essay about women constantly being asked to smile. You’ll rethink your position
Is this part of the bias that attractive people are better people? That they’re kinder, more generous, more intelligent?
Under the “appearance as value” dynamic, despite possessing one of the most beautiful souls to grace this planet, this woman has no value.
Under that same dynamic, this is a good guy. This is a great guy. It’s Ted Bundy. The authorities still aren’t sure how many women he killed. Or where he buried the bodies.
Do you see where it kind of falls down? Living my life so that my appearance is pleasing to others is not my priority; I have to get through my life. Lipstick doesn’t make me stronger. Dressing in a way that someone else wants actually diminishes me because I am not being true to myself.
And for a final thought, I turn to a wiser source than I (Facebook memes):
July 8, 2013
Enter the Nexus
I’m referencing one of the weakest entries in the Star Trek movie franchise, ‘Star Trek: Generations.” It was the first with the Next Generation crew, Captain Jean-Luc Picard (or Professor Charles Xavier if you’re more X-Men inclined. Or Sejanus, if you prefer “I, Claudius.” I think it’s the Latin for “Jean-Luc Picard with hair.”). The crew is chasing down Malcolm McDowell who is chasing something called “The Nexus.” Captain Picard ask Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg. I LIKE the Whoop. She gave me a lovely response to a fan letter) about this Nexus thing. Guinan explains that it’s an energy ribbon that allows those who enter to experience whatever they desire for as long as they desire. “It’s like living in pure joy,” she says.
We have the means of entering our own Nexus. Doing that thing or experience that puts you in joy and leaves you there. I had such an experience in 2000 (which helped me fuel the drive to write These Foolish Things . I got to meet my favorite movie star, George Clooney, and I made him laugh. I walked on clouds for months afterwards and it wasn’t just “I met him” (hubba hubba) but “I made that happen” that was fueling the joy. I had been told “You are never going to meet him, you know.” However, when “The Perfect Storm” was released, there was a benefit in Gloucester (movie being shown at the Liberty Tree Mall in Danvers, MA. I used to work at the old 2 screen theater there), I bought a ticket and went. So,I found a way into the Nexus.
He’s still hot.
Yesterday, July 7, 2013, These Foolish Things was offered for free as a Kindle download on Amazon as a promotion. I wrote the book 12 years ago and encountered resistance from the traditional publishing houses and literary agents. The delay in getting published felt like the “You’ll never meet him” comments from well-meaning friends. The free offer could have gone nowhere.
A couple of weeks ago, I figured “Why not?” and went to an Aston Martin dealer (this is Orange County, CA. There are multiple Aston Martin dealers). Yes, I love James Bond movies and yes, I fell in love with his car (not much wrong with Daniel Craig, either. Or Pierce Brosnan or Timothy Dalton or younger Sean Connery. Roger Moore didn’t do it for me). My current dream car is a convertible DB9 in dark blue.
I asked the salesman about insurance, maintenance, gas guzzler taxes, delivery, etc. No test drive (he’s on commission, his time is his money and I didn’t want to waste his time) but he let me sit in the driver’s seat and START THE CAR to lower the roof. I am still giddy just remembering it. I ran my hands over that car like it was the finest silk or marble or I don’t know what. I’m still feeling the joy from that experience. I made it happen; I was sitting in a brand-new DB9 convertible (not dark blue, but that’s okay). Into the Nexus.
In 24 hours, 669 people downloaded These Foolish Things. When I woke up, it was ranked 1136 on the Amazon rankings (free stuff). At midnight, it was # 417.
But wait, there’s more: Reviews appeared on both Amazon and Goodreads.com. Reviews by people I’ve never met. They liked it. They want more.
I am back in the Nexus. I am feeling joy. Lots of joy. In The Secret and other “Law of Attraction” books and DVDs, this is what they mean when they tell you to get to the joy to attract what you desire.
I’m there, Baby, I’m there.
July 4, 2013
Liberty of a different sort
I love hummingbirds. I love cats. Sadly, though, the two do not mix.
Meet Exhibit A:
This is Tiggers. He is a cat. He takes it seriously.
Meet Exhibit B:
His name is Calypte anna or Anna’s Hummingbird. I may start calling him Evel Knievel.
Exhibit A has been trying his best to make a snack (albeit like eating a single Tic Tac level of snack) of Exhibit B.
On June 1, Exhibit A knocked Exhibit B off the hummingbird feeder in an assassination attempt. Humans interfered and Exhibit B made a stunning entrance to a birthday party (mine) and eventually flew away. I though that was the end of it.
Nope.
You may be thinking Sylvester and Tweety. Too obvious. No, given the intellectual levels and luck going on, we’re talking more Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner.
Apparently, Exhibit B has a thing for crashing birthdays because today, Independence Day, the Fourth of July, The US’s birthday, Exhibit B showed up IN MY BEDROOM.
Exhibit A was in hot pursuit. Exhibit A got his furry ass thrown into the bathroom.
First things first: shut off and stop blades of ceiling fan.
Open window.
Easy stuff, right? Nay, nay, I say.
How do you convince a very small creature who is scared out of his mind and doesn’t speak Human that he’s in good hands, but needs to fly just a little lower?
How do you gently shoo something that weighs a tenth of an ounce without causing physical harm and or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? Try 10 minutes of waving a towel and a pink plastic cup (it was in my hand. Don’t judge).
The stopped ceiling fan proved to be a nice safe perch for him and yes, he did eventually fly away. And Tiggers was released from the bathroom.
After the close encounter, I looked up the meaning of hummingbird as an animal totem: “The symbolic meaning of hummingbirds differs from regions. However, in the Native American culture it symbolizes timeless joy and the Nectar of Life. It’s a symbol for accomplishing that which seems impossible and will teach you how to find the miracle of joyful living from your own life circumstances.”
Be joyful. And try something impossible.
