D.G. Kaye's Blog, page 166

Anne R. Allen’s Blog: What Happens to Your Blog when You Die? Why You Need to Appoint a Social Media Executor NOW

I love following the blog of Anne R. Allen. Anne is an author, and a well-known blogger for sharing up-to-date tips and helpful articles for writers on what’s current in the publishing world.

 

I thought it was important to share this post because it raises a question about what happens to a writer’s works and social media platforms if they were to die? This is a subject nobody ever really wants to think or talk about, but if left without consideration, we’d be leaving a little unfinished business behind and quite possibly a whole heap of royalties, if we are published authors.

 

Click on Anne’s link below, and get a wealth of information to protect yourselves and your loved ones in the event our inevitable end should arise.

 

Source: Anne R. Allen’s Blog: What Happens to Your Blog when You Die? Why You Need to Appoint a Social Media Executor NOW

Author Interrupted

They say, ” what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. After these past few months, I’m thinking I should be made of kryptonite by now.

 

This has certainly been one summer that has passed me by. I’m not sure if it’s the planets colliding, or that ‘Murphy’ hasn’t hopped on my shoulder, but certainly some bad entity has entered my orbit.

It’s been an ongoing love affair since June with me and the good old government. In early June I was randomly selected for an audit. I’d never been audited in my life, and oddly enough, since I only began submitting expenses for my book writing two years ago, my number came up—for a two year audit.

I have an accountant that looks after mine and my husband’s affairs and he is very efficient and a stickler for staying within guidelines. To help curb costs, I do a lot of the legwork involved in preparing for him to do taxes, and so naturally, that meant me digging through, photocopying, and matching receipts in what feels like a mountain of paperwork.

After all was prepared and sent, I received notification that my ‘author business’ wasn’t a business. Really? So I’ve worked day and night for almost the last three years building a platform, reaching out to readers and writing books and apparently that isn’t work in the eyes of the government. I was mortified at their reply and charge back. After speaking with a helpful agent on the phone about my dismay, I was instructed to write a letter and resend for another check. This resubmission is now once again in their hands.

It seems our tax department has a theme of businesses to check on, which changes every few years. Apparently, these past two years have been the theme of ‘authors and bloggers’. Me, being the one in a million girl for things to happen to (for everything except winning lotteries), was one of the chosen.

Within two days of hearing about my submission declined, my husband got notification that he was now being assessed for three years. Was this a coincidence? I think not. If I thought I’d already been to hell and back, I’ve been knee-deep in the process once again; this time a lot more difficult as his income entails a lot more detail than mine. After spending a week in search mode for all his paperwork, I’m buried in putting together everything requested to prepare for the accountant.

These last two weeks have been unbearable; sucking every ounce of life and joy out of me. My newest book was supposed to be published already, and in between this mess I’ve left my graphic artist midway in my cover design and my editor in long delays between responses to edit. Who the heck can concentrate?

I’ve tried to keep up with reading blogs at night, and social media, but the truth is I can’t concentrate on anything until I get this task finished. My nerves are shattered, my intestines are knotted, and I don’t remember the last time I slept through the night.

So, with this all being said, I’m sure you can appreciate that my gravatar has been a little sparse lately on many of your blogs. I just wanted to let you all know that I haven’t disappeared completely off the map, and when I get through these next few weeks, I’ll be back with a vengeance. Until such time, just know that your comments don’t go unnoticed, and when I get a spare moment where I get some ‘me’ time, I’ll be circulating around the blogosphere.

Miss you guys!

7 Vital Website Ingredients for Authors AND Editors | @Belinda_Pollard

 

Here’s some insight from my friend and author Belinda Pollard. Belinda writes a lot about the publishing industry, and shares some great information here on revamping her website. We all know that WordPress can sometimes be tricky at times, so perhaps Belinda’s experience may be helpful to some.

 

“I was recently forced into changing the design of this site, because the little piece of software that controls its appearance was no longer supported. (Rats.)

This turned out to be a good thing, because it made me think hard about what I wanted on my site. I mulled over what helps or irritates me on other people’s blogs and websites. (A blog is just a type of website that has new content added regularly. They’re all websites.)

I had to update both this site, which I write as a publishing . . .” Read More:

Source: 7 Vital Website Ingredients for Authors AND Editors | @Belinda_Pollard

 

DGKaye©July 2015

What’s Your #Workspace Like?

A writer’s space is usually one where they spend much of their time, if they’re working full-time at home like I am.

I was recently inspired to write a post about my workspace by a company named We Work. They are a company that provides people with temporary work spaces, for personal use, or for seminars. What a neat concept, no long-term commitments or leases. They have locations available across many of the United States, and some countries now in Europe. Taking stock of my little space I’m now working in, I’m thinking how nice that possibility sounds to have my own private getaway space. But for now, I won’t worry about that until I start selling a gazillion more books!

Proudly displays her copyrights on four books.

My set-up is designed for my sometimes, scattered functionality. As many of you know I like to write my books and blogs out in longhand. I try to allot designated time to my writing, but I often find myself jumping between writing, and back-and-forth to my desktop computer or laptap to look up something. In between those times, I’m on my computer for lengthy times, either editing what I’ve written or reading numerous emails, publications, and working with my social media platforms. My space has changed from the way it used to be. I moved into a condo earlier this year, after living in a house for almost two decades. Gone now is my once big office and space. My cabinets and files are now stowed away in a third bedroom, which I like to call ‘the storage room,’ and my desktop and bookshelves have taken up residency in a cornered off section of my living room. When I need to sort out chapters from my manuscript, I have the use of my long dining room table to accommodate me. If it gets out of hand for space (like it had not too long ago while I was reorganizing chapters of my latest upcoming book,) I resort to creating piles on the floor. Wow, am I prehistoric or what? But it’s quaint, and it works. Many times while I’m out, I stop at one of my favorite coffee houses to pick up a soy latte. I always take notice of the many people sitting at tables, engaged in working on their laptops. I often wonder if any of them are writers, besides the students working on their papers, and many others just having a coffee and playing on social media. I know many writers like to go to a coffee house to work sometimes. I’ve sometimes considered doing that, but somehow, I never have. I find working in a social environment too distracting. For me, writing is a solo act. When I’m working, I like to have my reference books handy. I’m sure it’s part of my being a packrat. And I don’t intend on packing a suitcase just to sit at a café and work. I don’t turn on the TV or radio during the day, as I find it can be an easy distraction. It’s already enough that I have to put up with the constant clatter of machinery from the outside renovations being done to our complex. The on-and-off again sounds of drilling and jackhammering up old cement often grates on my concentration. I set up a schedule each night of the things I want to accomplish the following day. And I usually stick to it, if life’s pressing matters don’t interfere. I treasure the moments of silence from outside, and try to get most of my daily writing done in between those workers’ outside, lunch hours, and upon their daily departure. These days, I’m especially liking the rainy days, when there’s no work being done out there. And on some other days, I sometimes pay heed to some advice staring me in the face as I go to take another sip of coffee: It says: “Life is not measured by the number of breaths                                                   we take, but by the number of moments that take our                                                   breath away.” Thank you We Work, for taking interest in my space. And how are your spaces working out for you writers and bloggers?   DGKaye©July 2015

#Women’s #Health Week – Saving your own Life

Sally Cronin from www.smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com is doing a wonderful series on Women’s Health and has graciously asked me to contribute one of my health issue stories to her series. Please take note that what happened to me certainly can apply to anyone, not just women.

“Welcome to the second post in the feature today and I am so pleased that author D.G. Kaye accepted my invitation to guest post. She shares her story about a health issue that could have gone unnoticed at great risk to her life.”

 

Connecting the Dots by D.G. Kaye.

It was the tiniest of dots; not much bigger than the size of a pinhead. Most people wouldn’t even have paid it any mind. But I am not most people.

As a girl who has experienced her fair share of health concerns, I made a pact with myself to practice a healthier lifestyle and to become more in-tuned with my body. I wouldn’t categorize myself as a hypochondriac, but because I have been challenged with cervical cancer, glaucoma, and a near fatal diagnosis of Crohn’s disease at the age of forty, my instincts instruct me to pay close attention to any suspicious “red flags” that capture my attention. . . READ MORE by clicking on the link below:

 

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2015/07/29/womens-health-week-connecting-the-dots-by-d-g-kaye/comment-page-1/#comment-21571

Round 2 #Colonoscopy #Notfun —And How’s Your Week?

Warning: This post may offer a little TMI for the faint-hearted. But may be very informative for those who suffer with any type of bowel disorders and are curious to find out how other sufferers get through colonoscopies. I know I spent numerous hours googling every prep and review I could find.

It sure arrived quick enough; my second colonoscopy in three months. You can read the original post I wrote about Round 1 here. This time it was a redo because apparently the toxic potion I ingested in round one wasn’t potent enough for my bionic intestines. This time I was given, if you can believe, an even worse potion to take, complete with an assortment of laxatives to be taken pre-potion.

The delightful procedure of prepping was done yesterday (Tuesday) and it was just a part of the crappy week I’ve been having so far. (I’ll fill you in on the other crap later.)

So I tried my best to do everything I could to make this test go smoother than the last, and be better cleaned out by eating very light for a few days prior (which incidentally helps with the hunger one experiences on prep day from no food.) After taking the prescribed laxatives and experiencing nothing to write home about, I then began drinking the first of four litres of vile liquid around 2pm. In addition to the prescribed disgust, I also chugged an additional two litres of water throughout the day, hoping to push things along.

As a gal who eats holistically and doesn’t like to put additives, nitrates or fake sugars in her body, I felt as though I was ingesting poison into my empty stomach. My head was pounding and my stomach swelled to something which I imagined twenty months pregnant would look like, and felt like. Three hours went by and still no movement! Are you kidding me? I’ve read nothing but horror stories about people who stayed planted on the toilet for hours during this workout. Finally into the fourth hour I felt an urge, although not an urgent urge, it was an urge to go. Within a two hour span I went about five times. And although I didn’t feel nearly done, I was done.

I worried all night about not being ready for the scope the next morning, as I kept warm in my sweat suit, under a blanket with the air conditioning turned off in a blistering heatwave, where I left my husband stifling. That stuff goes through your veins and intestines like anti-freeze. I was panicking that once again, my scope wouldn’t be good because I couldn’t completely empty. I felt like crap all night, slept about five hours, then headed out early for the test.

I have to admit, the special clinic I go to for the procedure is pretty awesome. The nurses are fabulous, as they take your vitals, get your IV port ready for sedation, and make you comfortable in your hospital gown in your own private cubicle while resting on the gurney awaiting your turn. I was rolled into the small operating room where I got to chat with the doctor before they put me out cold, THE WAY I LIKE IT. I don’t want to see or feel anything. Dr. B. and me are almost like old chums now. Having recently been through that a few other times; while making jokes, I tried to make light of the situation.

I told her about my bathroom struggles and she couldn’t understand how that potent cocktail only sent me to the bathroom four or five times. I proceeded to tell her that because of my having Crohn’s disease, I’ve become an all or nothing girl — either I live in the bathroom, or a stick of dynamite can’t make me flinch. Again, she laughed. But on a serious note, I had to give her the bathroom report because she had to decide whether or not to scope me. I asked her nicely to please not reject me and make me go through this yet again.  FIND A WAY!!!! I asked her if she found that I wasn’t clear enough to see through, to just irrigate me, WHILE I’M OUT. Whatever it takes.

When I awoke back in my cubicle about forty-five minutes later, I really felt drugged; much more than the previous time. After a nurse unhooked my IV and assorted wires, I waited to have my chat with Dr. B. As I suspected, once again, I wasn’t  fully emptied but miraculously Dr. B. managed to make her way through for me. Okay, so yay, she didn’t find any more polyps, other than the three she removed on the previous visit. But I was sadly informed that I not only suffer from Crohn’s disease, I now also have it’s evil twin, Colitis.

I voiced my concern to Dr. B. about how hard it is on my body to go on this evil cleanse, and that I’m sort of in a Catch 22 where it’s very important I have this test, as evil as it is. It’s not easy going through prep for the average healthier person, and worse for someone like me who suffers with digestive orders. Too many people suffer from Crohn’s and Colitis in my family, and a few have already passed from colon cancer. I’m darn petrified and I’m not afraid to admit it.

So Dr. B. wants me back in September to discuss pathology results and to see what we can do about future colonoscopies, which she now wants me to have annually. I’m home now writing this with my stomach still sticking out, still under a blanket.

Okay, so that’s not my only shitty part of the week (pun intended). This has also come to my attention this week:

Remember I mentioned to you guys that I was audited back in June, and the havoc I went through getting it all sorted our for the accountant and government, which still cost me a pretty penny? Well, Monday (the day before prep day) I received another letter from the tax man. This time they want to do a three year audit on my husband! This of course entails, doing the work all over again. Once again, I’ll be digging and sorting receipts and my book publishing gets left on the back burner.
And if that wasn’t enough, today after coming home from my colonoscopy, I received more good news from my pals at Revenue Canada. They sent me a letter notifying me that my claims aren’t accepted and a (huge) bill will follow.

Now I don’t know about you guys, but my stress goes right to my intestines. Is it any wonder that one of the most potent laxatives known to man doesn’t have much effect on me? GO AWAY FULL MOON!

And how is your week going?

DGKaye ©2015

#WordPress Issues with #Reblogging Feature

I just thought I’d write this short post on REBLOGGING. I’ve written, and mentioned before in some various posts about the inability for bloggers who move their WordPress.com sites over to WordPress.org, the self-hosted version, like I have, to be able to have a REBLOG button on their site.

I’ve done numerous searches to no avail, seeking to find a plugin to add onto my sharing toolbar, to enable readers to reblog my posts if they so chose to. Previously, I used a plugin called ‘Repost’, which has since been discontinued. Currently from what I came up with, and according to many unsatisfied bloggers who are in the same boat as I am, the only alternative I have found for myself to reblog others posts, is the PRESS THIS tool, which is available in all of our WordPress dashboards by going in and clicking on Available TOOLS.

There you will find the option to download PRESS THIS. PRESS THIS, has allowed me the freedom to capture text, photos, headlines, from whatever pages I’m on. A little screen will come up when you click on your upper tool bar (or listed in your favourites by clicking the star on your top right, main screen home bar where it may store itself). It will look like the draft screen in your WordPress, which it in fact stores the draft in your dashboard until you’re ready to come back to it and elaborate on it.

Many bloggers in the past, have asked me why they can’t seem to reblog any of my posts, and aren’t familiar with this little PRESS THIS tool. It’s actually a handy tool to download, not only for reblogging, but for a means to capture anything you may find on the web that you may want to use to include in your blogs.

I hope this solves some of the mystery of reblogging without a reblog button. And if anyone here has found a working plugin for their self-hosted site to add to the share buttons, I’d love to hear from you.

Below are two links you can click on to get a scope of this tool.

If you Google ‘Press This’, you will find more information.

https://en.support.wordpress.com/press-this/ http://www.wpbeginner.com/glossary/press-this/

DGKaye©July2015

Five Star Treatment – Meno-What? A Memoir by D.G. Kaye | Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life

 I’d like to thank my friend and writer/author Sally Cronin from Smorgasbord Invitation, for choosing my book MenoWhat? A Memoir,  to showcase on her esteemed blog.
Sally is well-known in the blogging community. She’s a person with a lot of wisdom and a wealth of information on many topics. Sally’s blog is aptly named because she blogs about an array of topics. You can find wonderful stories, Monday funnies, authors showcased, and several articles on health and well-being, and more, when you visit Sally’s blog. I’m so grateful to have been welcomed into her circles.

Below is Sally’s introduction to my book Menowhat? A Memoir:

 

“As we go into the summer months I am going to be selecting books for the series as well as asking you to contribute your own books or those of authors you would like to recommend.  There are now over 50 books in the series all with 5 star reviews and covering a very diverse range of subjects.. The link is at the bottom of the post.

It is safe to say that any woman who has reached 50 is in the middle of one of the most natural but often challenging transformations of a human body.  There is life after menopause and in fact there are countless advantages but during the process as hormones fluctuate up and down like a rollercoaster, physically, mentally and emotionally we also take the ride of our lives and usually drag hapless husbands and family members along with us!!”  . . .  Read More by clicking the link below:

Source: Five Star Treatment – Meno-What? A Memoir by D.G. Kaye | Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life

Thank you kindly Sally!

DGKaye©July 2015

Lost #Vegas

While sitting in a café on our last evening in Las Vegas, I reaffirmed to myself that this trip to what was once my favorite getaway spot for decades, was no longer fulfilling my passion.

Much has changed about that once mysterious, intriguing little spot in the desert since I first went there over thirty years ago. (Am I giving my age away?)

The grand allure Vegas held for me in the past had vanished, along with much of its old charm. Gone are the days of ‘beautiful people’ dressed in their finery just to enter a casino at night. Gone are the days of $1.99 buffets, free comp tickets given out to select patrons by pit bosses as a thanks for leaving a donation, or just because they liked you.

The hotel rooms were once all so elegant, with marbled bathrooms and comfortable beds. Many hotels still have their marbled bathrooms, only now, they seem to be in need of an overhaul. The hotel I stayed in, although the room was fairly nice and could have used updating, most definitely had the original mattresses. Mine was so soft and worn, it put my hip out, and still hasn’t healed. Room comfort is not a huge priority there. And I wasn’t impressed by the $32 a night, plus tax, ‘resort fee’ they began charging over a year ago. I questioned the girl at the front desk as to what ‘this fee’ is for. She smiled with her response as she told me I would have ‘free’ (wasn’t I just now paying for it?) internet, parking and use of the gym. I replied, “I don’t have a car, or a computer here, and the last thing I came to Vegas for was to go to the gym.” Then I proceeded to try to persuade her to knock off the bogus $212.62 U.S. charge (That’s $260. Canadian dollars!) For ZIP!—to no avail.

In older decades, the nightclubs featured icons like Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., et al. It wasn’t uncommon to find any one of those stars pass through a casino in between sets or during the day. The Strip, Las Vegas Boulevard, was merely a dusty road that led from McCarran airport to the strip of iconic hotels that housed all the excitement of the town. The short five minute drive offered a view of merely vast desert patches of cacti, interspersed with the infamous hotels of yesteryear.

And there wasn’t a child in sight.

I’ve been to Vegas over thirty times through the decades. I’ve watched, in sadness, some of those beloved, iconic hotels get blown up to smithereens, in order for the bigger and better ones to take their places. But bigger wasn’t better; at least not for those like me who loved the adult wonderland that it once was.

Vegas has become too big, too crowded, and certainly one jumbo commercialized enterprise. The streets are crowded by the new younger generation, baby carriages, and people hounding you to ‘ultimately’ buy time shares, see hot girls, and once I was even offered ‘free money’ if I partook in some seminar. Ya, trust me, nothing is free, especially in Vegas. Heck, you can’t even take a picture of a costumed character on a street corner without them charging you for the photo.

The entertainment is mostly geared towards the younger crowd; pool parties, DJ’ed nightclubs, and other assorted themed parties. Sure, there are still comedy shows and various Cirque de Soleil shows, which can run you $300 to $400 dollars for two tickets.

The casinos don’t seem to be as full anymore. The city earns its revenues from the entertainment avenues they now provide. This leaves me wondering, where do these young folks get this money to spend there? Another distant thing of the past is the constant ringing of jackpot bells from slot machines. I don’t recall hearing the chiming of ‘Ding, ding, ding’ in any casino I walked through.

Drinks are still free in the casinos, but step outside to anywhere, and you’ll pay large for a cocktail, and even for water. I was blown away when my hub and I ate dinner in a moderately priced restaurant and the glass of (inexpensive) wine I ordered was $12 U.S. dollars! Sheesh! They sold that same bottle of wine in the Dollar store there for eight bucks!

I still don’t get why people want to take their children and particularly babies to a place like that. Smoking is only permitted in casinos there now, but most hotels you must walk through the open-air casinos which adjoin the lobbies. Kids aren’t allowed, supposedly in the casinos, but that didn’t stop so many of them from running around the slot machines, nor did it prompt any pit bosses to alert a player to this rule who continued to play blackjack with her baby carriage parked right beside the table!

Texting has also become the main form of communication there. Hundreds of zombie-like people pave the streets, aimlessly, looking down at their phones. Even the restaurants, which many of them seem to be hosted by very young girls, can leave one waiting in long lines until the next table becomes available, because the hostesses are busy chatting and texting, instead of noticing the empty tables that have yet to be cleaned and reset.

What has happened to my beloved Vegas? As I continued to watch the crowded sidewalks, and the constant line-ups of bumper-to-bumper traffic on the now very busy, eight lane Las Vegas Boulevard, where the taxi meters chug away at lightning speed, I had to wonder where did all the boomers go?

Sure, there were boomers there, but not nearly as many as the younger generation. We were certainly a minority. My husband and I shook our heads at what has become of a place we both once adored, and decided the people of yesteryear must have already moved on to places such as Reno or maybe Tahoe. We both said that we wouldn’t go back to Vegas for a very long time; if ever.

But my love for the desert hasn’t faltered. And as many of you know, my newest passion is for Arizona. Lots of open space, so much to see and do, and the warm, inviting desert climate will become our new winter home, starting this coming winter.

 

DGKaye ©July 2015

A Penny’s Worth

Things that make me go hmmm?

While strolling the Miracle Mile Mall underneath the hotel I stayed at in Las Vegas, Planet Hollywood, I passed a little kiosk which sold little charms and baubles. My eye caught a silver bracelet, which had engraved in it, Live Laugh Love. Being that the saying is part of my mantra and website header, I had to have it.

When I went to pay the petite blond woman, with the thick Slavic accent, she quoted me the price. The dollar value was irrelevant, but the cents came to sixty-two.

I scrambled in my wallet for the two pennies, and found one. I asked her if that was good enough and she sternly said, “No, it’s two cents.” I chuckled at her and asked her if she was serious.

I also wondered if she was going to let go of a nice sale for a lousy penny. And then I said to her, “In my country, Canada, we don’t even use pennies anymore; we round off to the nearest nickel.”

The woman replied, “Well, this is America. Our pennies are still worth money.” I found her tone and lecture to be quite aggressive and unfriendly. If I didn’t love everything that bracelet signified to me, I’d have left it there.

Now, I know things aren’t as cheap in the States as they once were. And I know you can’t really buy anything for a dollar there either; just as in Canada. So I found her defense for her ‘not natural born American attitude’ a bit over the top.

Still, I suppose she had the right to state her opinion about a country that gave her citizenship. But in this day and age to make a big deal over a penny seems so insignificant.

I found another penny at the bottom of my purse. She got her two cents from me.

DGKaye  ©July 2015