Serials and Scenarios ~ My Stars

The weirdest part of being published is being read by people who know me.

That may sound funky to say because the people who know me and love me are going to find my voice and picture me in the whole mix and somehow that's going to ensure that they love my story. Right?

Early on in the "shopping" process where we were given an offer from the publisher we decided to go with eventually a lady from church asked to be able to read the manuscript and edit it because she just loves to edit. I sent it to her over email. Granted, this was just a gesture because our book had already gone through the edited-to-death phase.

This lady, a few weeks later came to me in the church bathroom, of course. "Hey. I've gotten a start on your book. I told you I'd be honest. There are a lot of words. So many I finally have decided the whole plot was about one woman wanting to get flowers out of a dumpster. Is the whole book going to be like that? Because I just don't think it's my cup of tea. I read hard books, I've read Frank Peretti so I'm pretty sure it's not me, it's your book." This comment is paraphrased. 

Fortunately, my co-author is an extremely good editor and multi-published herself. And the critique group I worked with is no-nonsense, get-rid-of-that-paragraph, red-pen-slashing tell-it-like-it-is sucker punchers. So my skin had developed a tough enough exterior that I was able to tell her to please stop reading it and thank her for her time.

Honestly, there are people who aren't going to love this story. I'm okay with that. Because likely, they are folks who don't really "get" me any way. I get looks on occasion. I know when I'm just being tolerated and when I'm being dismissed and when someone truly enjoys my company.

I've also had bloggers who didn't know me from Adam tell me that my interview process caused them to instant click and order Out of the Frying Pan or suggest it for their next book club meeting. And so far they haven't been disappointed. One friend purchased two copies hoping to eventually get one back from her sister who loved it. The other copy went to a friend who's husband is going to be reading it out loud to her during her chemo treatments. This comment alone has made all the struggles worth it. To think that something we wrote could bring escape during a really rough period of time makes me feel so blessed. 

Several people have told me it's been a long time since they read a book that made them laugh out loud. People are loaning their copy to friends. Right now a copy is going around my office. The girls, one by one, are reading it over nights and weekends and during lunch. One plans to take it to Portland next week, another is taking it to Texas in November. We are still in a top 100 on Amazon, in the 60's. We are there with books in the Amish genre and with books written by big name authors. Our 17th review was just posted on Amazon. Three reviews from strangers have been three star reviews, seven gave us four stars, the rest are five star reviews. The most critical three star review made a few comments about errors she'd spotted, one being the airport being mentioned as five minutes away then it morphed into two hours of fast driving...the five minutes down the road referred to the nursing home not the airport so I'm not sure how she misunderstood that. She also questioned "white noise whooshed in his ears" and said "what is white noise?" So I'm thinking she was VERY generous giving us three stars because she did not get us at all. Romantic Times gave us four stars. They rarely, rarely give out five. 

The fact that I review novels has made the reviews very interesting. I won't write a review of a book that would be less than a three star read. Three stars means theres several reasons I liked it but others might like it a whole lot more so I keep those readers in mind. I only give five stars if I feel like the author nailed characters, plot, timing, dialogue and setting/scene. I don't often give five stars. So four is very good. 

I now have an author signing at my local library in November. Where I am likely to run into patients and who knows who else. This is a small town. So I'm using all of the above swirling feelings to help me get through that day. The one where I'm likely going to feel like I've forgotten to get dressed and am walking through crowds in my mismatched underwear! 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Christmas Cheer

I love how God uses our own thoughts and the innocent words of others to give us periodic attitude checks. After all, we all see the world uniquely and the internal monologue/dialogue makes sense to our own brain. 

Case in point. I'm standing next to someone helping at a kids Christmas party booth. I'm aware that another volunteer swings by and grabs a ziploc bag from our table but have no concern for its intended purpose. A few minutes later my co-worker growls, "put it in the bag already!" I slowly (no sudden moves, right?) turn to her and whisper, "what?" She then went on to tell me about the plastic bag. Through the body language 3 tables down she had figured out the volunteer had taken one of our bags for a woman who needed to put something small in it. Said woman was hanging on to the small object while talking and gesturing while the volunteer held out the bag. Meanwhile my fellow volunteer became immersed in this bag, the item and the clueless woman with the "verbal diarrhea." I, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less. Two people, identical surroundings, same purpose and vastly different takes and takeaways. Yeah. Our brains are complicated and unique machines. 

So now back to the attitude check thing. A friend told me about a hilarious attitude check she got. She had a list of Christmas gifts for families in need. Two pairs of boots. She also needed candy canes for another couple of same type situation. She chose a store that she rarely shops in because of past experiences because boots were a couple bucks cheaper in the ad. While standing in line the cash register crashed. A second cashier came over to help, when that didn't work she went to another register and did a call out so all the people behind my friend rushed over. She followed, and said her frustration meter started to clang. The first register finally kicked back on and the gal called out, my friend made one more move, nearly a half an hour after getting in line. She was behind one person and saw light at the end of the tunnel. And then another hitch. The gal in front of her couldn't get her card to work, and then tried another, and my friend, in a spirit of Christmas selfishness just wanted out of the store, so she said, "Let me" and swiped her own card. The shocked woman thanked her and called her a Christmas angel. The cashier, likewise, couldn't stop wowing. My friend wisely (Isn't it lovely when wisdom teaches us that a mouth kept shut and comments silenced can be a true friend indeed?) said nothing and took her leave. Fuming, she arrived at her location and then just had to laugh at her own craziness. And also realized that her attempt to save a few bucks actually cost her a whole lot more. But at least she kept her thoughts to herself in the store and at least two people were touched by a Christmas angel. And my friend learned a few things in line.

Hmmm I've Got Nothing.

So I checked around for inspiration. I may have been sleepy because I was drawn to noises. The rain storms were a bit intense. But here you go, 10 Hours of forest sounds.