The Night a Bug Flew in My Ear

I hate bugs. Flying ones, crawling ones. I don’t care. I absolutely hate them. The main reason I don’t like camping is because bugs might crawl on me. Eww.

So the Saturday night when I was on the verge of sleep and a bug flew around my head (I shiver just writing this) I whacked at it. But then I didn’t hear anything. I flipped on my nightstand light and jumped out of bed in the same motion. Hubs mumbled “what?” I told him about the bug and he asked if I used nuclear warfare to get it. Say what? (He claims he never said that.)

I flipped the covers back. No bug. I turned the pillow over. Again no bug. I looked behind the bed on the floor. Nothing but dust bunnies that could wait. My right ear felt funny. I whacked my head, hoping to dislodge it—whatever it was. Nothing. Finally I lay back down, my right ear to the pillow hoping whatever had flown in would crawl out. I worried all night. Okay, not quite all night because I must have fallen asleep. In the morning, I really checked the bed, under the pillows, etc. No bug. I concluded it must be in my ear.

I worried even more. I just knew some bug was chewing its way through my ear and into my brain. (If you've seen Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan you know exactly what I was thinking.) So did I go to the ER? Of course not. I’d feel really foolish if it was nothing. Isn't that typical? We worry we might seem foolish instead of having a medical concern checked out. But I still worried. I had a doctor appointment at 5 on Monday. I could wait. Worry, worry, worry.

BTW, the reason I had a doctor appointment was because his nurse had called on Thursday to say he wanted to talk to me about the results of my mammogram. At first that sounded a bit unusual. Normally they just send me for an ultrasound. Still, the bug in my ear had me more worried.

Monday afternoon in the examining room, I told the nurse I wanted to talk to the doc about the bug in my ear. I told my husband I was going to have him check my ear first because I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on whatever he was going to tell me about the mammogram. So what does the doctor do? He walks in, doesn’t even look at me, sets down his computer, and says “about your mammogram…”

Darn it anyway. I listened as he explained something unusual showed up in my breast. I've heard that before. Since my 30s, doctors have found something unusual but after more tests, it turns out to be nothing. This time my doctor recommended a biopsy. That was different. As he went on about how it might not be anything but they had to check it out, I did listen. Both my sisters are breast cancer survivors. I knew the drill. When he finally wound down, I asked if we were done talking about this. He seemed surprised and said “if you are.” I told him about the bug and insisted he check my ear and pointed. He walked around to stand between me and my husband. I said it’s the other ear. He said “if you were a man, I’d say I can see the bug from here.”

Now I’ve known him for quite a while so I just rolled my eyes. When he finally checked the correct ear, I asked if he could see my husband. Both men just laughed. Diagnosis: no bug.

Results of the biopsy: no cancer. Whew.

I have to thank that bug, though. It kept me from worrying about breast cancer for two long days.

I blog here on the 8th and 30th of each month and Mondays on my own blogsite http://dianeburton.blogspot.com My first romantic suspense, One Red Shoe, was just released on Amazon.

Barbara Edwards talks about her writing fears

What am I afraid of? Deep in my soul I’m afraid that no one will like my stories. I guess every writer shares this fear to some degree.

Some of the doubts come from insecurity. Maybe I’m not interesting. Maybe I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe my stories don’t mean anything to the reader and they’ll throw it in the trash.

There’s not much I can do about old scars that twist my thoughts. All I can do is try the best I can to write a good story.

Fear makes me too sensitive to criticism. Remember that dire review that panned the story? We all get one. I dread those with a passion.

A part of the fear comes from reaching for perfection. What if someone notices that extra comma  

Or misplaced adverb. Is a paragraph too long or too short? I can drive myself wild with rewrites.

So here I sit exposing my tender guts and hoping you won’t poke me.

Fear doesn’t need to make sense. It just is.

See what you think of my new story.

My new holiday romance Journey of the Magi is free from October 8 to October 12 on Amazon.

Journey of the Magi is available: http://amzn.com/B00ES5DZEQ

Journey of the Magi blurb:

Widow Noel Martin never breaks promises, and she promised her kids they’d have Christmas at her childhood home in Connecticut. But driving across country takes money. Noel is broke when a snowstorm blows them into a tiny Minnesota café owned by a man who can change her mind. She accepts his offer of a job. Despite her attraction to him, she makes it clear she is only temporary help.

Dan Longstreet isn’t adopting any more strays, but he needs a waitress. Dan works so hard to make his café a success, he doesn't have time for love. Though Noel’s slender blonde beauty stuns him and her two adorable children tug at his heart, he denies how they threaten to change his life.

When tragedy strikes, their new-found love is the first victim. Noel can't stay and Dan can't leave. Will their journey be the gift that reunites them? 

Excerpt: Even with her knit hat pulled down over her ears, her high cheekbones and the up­-tilted tip of her nose flamed as bright red as a cheap statue of a Christmas elf. She blinked in the bright light.

 Dan’s pulse leaped like a startled deer. He knew everyone who frequented the Deer Run Lounge and Cafe. She was no local wife searching for an overdue husband or one of the three women who made a living, if you could call it that, picking up the lumberjacks and mill workers for an hour or two.

His blood heated but he managed to control his urges by slowly polishing a clean glass and setting it in the rack for the next day’s trade. Dan nodded hello.

Her over-sized man’s winter coat trailed to her ankles, but she visibly shook. He wanted to tell her to take off her coat and get warm. She removed her gloves, pulling the fingers off one by one until her white hands shone in the dim light. A pale circle around her ring finger marked the recent removal of a band.

She returned Dan’s stare. “Is that sign in the window still good? Do you need an experienced waitress?” Her flat, emotionless voice didn’t match the way her fingers twisted round and round her gloves. His palms itched to cover hers until she calmed.

 “Yeah.” He nodded slowly, his mouth dry. Something in him yearned for her to be more than a passing stranger.

Journey of the Magi is available: http://amzn.com/B00ES5DZEQ

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Aging Is Not for Sissies by Alison Henderson

Our theme this month is "What Scares You?". I could write about ghosts or vampires or demons, but I'm not afraid of monsters. I understand the human fascination with them, but I don't happen to share it. I don't read or write horror; I don't even read much paranormal romance. Intellectually, I can understand the vicarious thrill of being frightened when deep down you know you're safe, but it's never resonated with me on an emotional level. I tend not to be afraid of external things or people. My fears are usually more personal.

Tomorrow is my first fifty-ninth birthday. I may have more--I'll have to see how this year goes. The Big 6-0 is far more daunting than any birthday I've yet faced, including the dreaded thirtieth. I'm in excellent health and working hard to stay that way, but there's no telling how long that good health will last. Since I spent my working life in the insurance business, I know the difference between morbidity (poor health) and mortality. Mortality I can accept, but morbidity is another matter.

In February, I lost my father after a fifteen-year battle with Parkinson's Disease. We watched him decline, slowly and steadily, despite his ferocious will to live and live well. His struggle forced me to acknowledge one of my greatest fears--becoming frail and physically dependent. I never want my child to have to see me unable to care for my own most basic needs. Unfortunately, that's the future facing many of us unless advances in medicine allow quality of life to catch up to quantity.

And worse than physical decline is mental decline. Three of my grandparents lived into their nineties. My beloved maternal grandmother lived to be ninety-eight. Both grandmothers suffered from dementia during the last years of their lives, and that is my biggest fear. Again, my fear is not for myself but for my daughter. We are extremely close, and it breaks my heart to think of putting her through that ordeal. I hope progress can be made on treatment, or even prevention, of Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia during the next thirty years, but I'm not counting on it. In the meantime, I plan to make every day the best I can and be grateful for every blessing.

Is She or Isn't She?

My students think I might be a vampire.

It started with the sign on my desk that reads, “Vampire Parking: Violators Will Be Bitten.” This fun notice keeps kids from sitting at my desk, the one spot in the room that is always pristine. While I don’t always have the time or the energy to keep the entire room neat when I must share it with over forty children every day, I can at least protect my desk and its contents.

At first, my students laugh at the sign.

“Oh, that Mrs. DePetrillo. She’s so silly.” After all, I have a number of funny wall adornments in the room such as a “No Whining Zone” sign and a Spiderman poster. But when they see me actually sit at the desk, their minds start to put it all together and they use their inferring skills. If the desk only allows vampires to park there and I’m parked there, then I must be a vampire.

Let’s add to this some other evidence I’ve overheard students discussing recently:

1.       She wears a lot of black.

2.       She is kind of pale.

3.       She never puts the lights on in the classroom. Why does she like it so dark?

4.       The blinds on the windows are always closed. Is she trying to keep the sun out?

5.       She moves pretty fast. She was at her desk and now she’s already at the front of the room!

6.       Her dog looks like a werewolf.

Factor in that some other adults in the building have been adding fuel to the fire with tales of me requesting specially tinted windows that block UV rays or of having seen me in Target in the mirror aisle and not seeing my reflection and we’ve got some very convincing arguments here.

Just last week, I was elbow deep in a math lesson, scribbling away on the whiteboard with my back to the class. When I turned around, more than one student had out a small mirror, trying to capture my reflection. They’re being very scientific about it at least. Running tests. Asking questions. Supporting theories. Refining conclusions.

I told the students that we’re going to turn this speculation into a writing assignment where they must give their opinion on the matter with supporting evidence. Am I vampire or am I not and why do they think so? I plan to give them more evidence for both sides of the issue as the month of October unfolds. It’ll be a fun game to play in between the tedious and tortuous NECAP state testing where they basically have their little brains fried and I have to watch it happen and can offer no assistance. Trust me, fried brains is a tough smell to get out of the room.

Anyway, they appear to be excited about this writing endeavor. One student even asked me if when the assignment is done, could I tell them the truth about whether or not I am a vampire. I answered with a cryptic, “We’ll see.”

I can’t wait to see their reaction when I wear my “I Heart Vampires” T-shirt to school.

Toodles,

Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com
www.christymajor.weebly.com

The Comfort Zone by Jannine Gallant

This month we're talking about things that scare us. It occurred to me that most of us are creatures of habit. We like to stay in our nice, safe comfort zones. Maybe it's a job that is boring or a relationship going nowhere or living in a place you'd rather not be. Often it's easier (and a whole lot less frightening) to stick with the status quo than toss it for something new that may or may not work out.

This Comfort Zone also applies to our writing. Do you stay with a genre you're familiar with despite the fact that you're tempted to try something different? Do you have a secret desire to explore a past era or write about werewolves or dive into erotica when everyone knows you write sweet contemporaries? Years ago (actually it was over the summer after I graduated from high school) I sat down and started writing my very first historical romance. I loved the past and was headed off to college to be a history major, after all. What else would I write about? This mind set continued through college and out into the real world. I never did finish that original story, but I completed three other historical romances, found an agent and spent years waiting for that acceptance letter. Didn't happen. Not until I changed gears and wrote a romantic suspense book, submitted to a small press instead of trying for the big ones, and the rest is history. My point being--sucking it up and trying something new and different might be what you need if you feel your writing is in a rut.

Which brings me to point number two. For many of us represented by small presses, submitting to them feels safe. Chances are, you won't be rejected. You may have an editor you already love. Your sales probably aren't much, but your book is out there. This is a great way to start. It's what I did. But after over a half-dozen published books, I had that stuck feeling. My writing was improving (oh boy did it ever!) Looking back at those original manuscripts, I cringe. We all learn and grow. So, maybe it was time to jump out of my comfort zone. Again.

My first leap was into the indie pool with my Secrets of Ravenswood series. I wrote it with the intent to self-publish. That meant a huge jump into the scary unknown of formatting. I'm not a natural at technology. My sixteen-year-old rolled her eyes when I suggested Windows 8 might be a challenge to learn. But I'm not stupid, and after asking questions and going through an endless process of trial and error, I actually came out with three completed digital books! I can't tell you how thrilling and satisfying that was. No, I didn't attempt the covers. My fellow rose, Alison Henderson, made those for me! Next was the daunting task of putting all three books into a paperback anthology (the real book my grandma kept requesting!) which meant learning how to format for CreateSpace. Again lots of questions and trial and error. I was shaking as I pulled the proof copy out of my post office box, afraid I'd screwed up the margins...but it looked perfect! Alison's cover is absolutely beautiful. I'm so glad I jumped out of my comfort zone and into this project!

Almost done--hang in there people! Point number three. One more world to conquer. Yep, back where this journey began--with a rewritten version of my very first completed historical romance and a new agent. Sending that baby out to agents and getting rejected time after time was hard. Until Dawn Dowdle of the Blue Ridge Literary Agency took a chance on me. Now I'm garnering more rejections, but I have faith that this time around one of the big publishers will contract my historical. If they don't--I have a romantic suspense series just waiting...

So, are you in a writing rut? Have I inspired you to leap out of your comfort zone into the scary unknown? I hope so!

Find links to all my books on my website or follow me on Facebook and Twitter.

WHAT DO YOU GET WHEN A TLINGIT MARRIES A NORWEGIAN? by ROLYNN ANDERSON

Pilgrims and American Natives…the subject for November’s blogs.  I want to talk about what happened to Norwegian immigrants to the U.S. when they settled on Mitkof Island, Alaska, where Tlingit natives ruled.

Young men from Norway, mostly crofters, as close to servants as we can imagine, yearned for land of their own or, at the very least, a way to make money so they could buy fishing boats.  While some of their brothers trudged on to the gold fields of Alaska, a good many settled in Petersburg, Alaska, on the northern end of Mitkof Island at the tip of Wrangell Narrows.  Their advantage?  The LeConte Glacier offered free ice for their fish, enough ice to preserve their catch for boat trips south.  In fact, this group of fishermen, homesick for Norway, established a Little Norway in Petersburg.  Some of the men married Tlingit women; today, their progeny are called ‘Tlingwegians.’

I cherish my Scandinavian heritage and revel in the fact I have a town full of Skjellums (my maiden name) in Vaaga, Norway.  So when I cruised to Petersburg, Alaska, to find a town full of Norwegians, I experienced a mini-homecoming…and decided to set a novel in this sweet fishing town.

Get ready for LIE CATCHERS, published by Wild Rose Press in early 2014.  It’s a double murder mystery with a dose of paranormal in the plot.  You won’t believe the trouble a ‘Tlingwegian’ can get into!

While you’re waiting, check out my other books on http://www.rolynnanderson.com