Full Moon Rising

 

 

When I was teaching, we could always tell whenever there was a full moon by the children’s behavior. If previously mild mannered, cooperative children began acting slightly crazy and hyperactive, the teachers would console one another by predicating that the full moon was either upon us, or looming. Most often, on days like that, I’d check the nocturnal sky and the moon would be displayed in all of its rotund glory.

For the last few years, I’ve noticed something strange. Whenever I feel especially down or blue, it’s caused by, you guessed it, the full moon. How relieved I am whenever I see that huge yellow orb hanging in the nighttime sky!

Whew! Seeing the full moon reaffirms that I’m not terminally depressed and that I don’t need to rush to the doctor for a stronger anti-depressant. Rather, like the children I used to teach, the moon is causing some kind of disruption in my emotions.

I don’t remember the full moon having that effect on me in my younger years. Perhaps I was too busy dealing with the erratic behavior of my young students to be able to notice that I, too, was affected by the lunar cycle.

Now I know what it feels like to want to “Howl at the moon!”

 

Picture courtesy of Pixabay

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It’s Always Something

 

It’s always something: Something to celebrate, something to mourn, something to regret, something to attend to.

I miss my husband. Because it is always something: a phone call or three; a doctor’s appointment; walking the dog; visiting friends, laundry; cleaning; the list is endless. I do it all alone. Alone. If I need help, I either have to ask someone for a favor (something I am loathe to do) or hire someone. As of today, I owe about 20 people rides somewhere, food if they are sick or favors. Because I am alone—a widow—and it’s always something: big somethings; little something; annoying somethings; or happy somethings.

When sad or tragic somethings happen, I have no one to hold me and help me bear the burden. When happy somethings happen, I have no one else to celebrate with.

And when I need something, well, it’s just me solving the problem, making the decision and bearing the emotional burden.

I wish I were one of those women who seem to thrive on their alone-ness—the ones who revel in their independence. I’m not. I’d like a companion to hold my hand, put his arms around me and say, “It’s always something.”

 

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Tell the World You Liked It

Elvis Saves a Marriage Book

 

One of the most powerful boosts for many writers is Amazon.com. It provides a platform for unknown authors to bypass the stranglehold traditional publishing houses have on the industry. Services like Book Baby, Create Space and others support the independent writer by providing an accessible and affordable platform to bring their work to life.

There are many reasons why an author may resort to self-publishing. In my case, I made this decision after pitching my book for several years at writer’s conferences (where I paid a fee for the privilege) and sending numerous query letters to agencies. I sent the required three or whatever chapters, synopses of the book, author bio, and cover letters to agents I had investigated.

It was time consuming and ultimately fruitless—although I had at least two agents who would “have loved to promote my book if only…”

So, I turned to a small press publisher who did bring my lifelong dream of being a published author to life.

Then the hardest work began—promoting the book. I am not naturally good at self promotion.

I rely on word of mouth and whatever opportunities come my way to talk about my book and my writing.

But the one thing that all authors—including me—must have to survive is book reviews. And that’s where you, dear reader, come into the picture.

The five or ten minutes it takes you to write a few simple sentences telling other folks that, yes, you enjoyed the book you just finished are the greatest boost you can give to any writer. Just log onto Amazon.com, find the title and author of the book, and choose the option to review the book.

You don’t have to do an in-depth analysis of the plot, the nuances of character development, or compare the book to others in its genre. Just say that you liked it (or not) and why.

Easy.

And speaking for all struggling authors like me, your review will be deeply appreciated.

 

 

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Chasing a Dream

dreams-not-your-life-881020_1280

It’s hard to chase a dream. Dreams are ephemeral and unpredictable. They’re illogical. They don’t follow the rules of physics.

Dreams can make you feel elated or leave you empty and confused.

When you wake from a dream, it can be a hard landing back to reality.

I feel like I am chasing a dream right now as I face the most difficult part of having my latest book, Elvis Saves a Marriage…published: trying to foster interest in it.

It’s an intricate ballet of pushing the book a little here and there and exhausting people. You don’t want your efforts at promoting the book to feel like forcing people to watch a never-ending telethon.

But it is a necessary step in being an author. Even mid-list authors have to promote their books—through personal appearances, radio interviews, and book signings. The only ones who are somewhat exempt are A-listers who are a sure sell. And they have staffs to plan their promotion campaigns—and get to travel to exciting places and be on TV interview shows.

Writers like me are the author and promoter all wrapped up into one person. It can feel daunting.

From the time I was old enough to envision a future, I knew deep in my heart that I wanted to spend my life writing. I describe myself now as a writer who was disguised as a teacher for many years.

But I am a dream chaser. And no matter how upside down, how illogical, or how difficult it is, I will continue to follow this dream.

 

Graphic courtesy of Pixabay

 

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They Liked It–They Really Liked It!

Well, it’s official—at least two of my readers enjoyed the stories in my new book, Elvis Saves a Marriage and Other Short Stories!Elvis Saves a Marriage Book

Having a reader –or many readers—enjoy what you write is the ultimate reward for most writers, I think.

It makes all the hours you invest in a book worth it: the nights you don’t sleep because you’re working out plot twists, the many times you rethink a character’s actions or dialog, and the agony of multiple rewrites. And, of course, the editing—the part of writing that separates the serious writer from the dabbler.

By the time a book is published, it has been scrutinized, edited, polished, read and re-read until the author can almost recite it by heart.

Writing is a solitary activity. That means that you have to be motivated to keep writing no matter what, even when self doubt rears its ugly head. Even when you can’t quite make the words say what you mean.

And when you’re finished you must be open to suggestions from others, be it a writer’s critique group, an editor, agent, or all of the aforementioned.

After you’ve gone through all of the work, the fine-tuning and fought off the self doubt and convinced yourself that people will pay to read what you have produced—you most likely will make very little money from all of your effort.

In other words, it’s not a pursuit for sissies.

So, the obvious conclusion is that writers write because they love it and feel that they have something special to share with the world.

That’s how I feel about my latest offering—a collection of short stories, Elvis Saves a Marriage and Other Short Stories, that my publisher describes as “slice of life stories that cover the gamut of human emotion” with “engaging characters and surprise endings.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It’s Here–My New Book!

 

Elvis Saves a Marriage Book

It’s finally here! My newest book, Elvis Saves a Marriage and Other Short Stories has gone “live” on Amazon.com. The print version is available right now, and the Kindle version should be up in the next day or two.

My publisher, Mia Crews and her business partner, Karleen Conroy have done an outstanding job with the new book.

Mia’s description on the back cover of my book sums it up perfectly:

 

 

“Author Kathy Joyce Glascott presents a cast of engaging characters, unique settings and surprise endings in this delightful collection of stories, starting with Elvis Saves a Marriage, set in the 1950s.

These “slice of life” stories cover the gamut of human emotions. Enjoy three Ten Minute Stories: I Was Thinking; The Sign of Cancer; and The Ice Queen. In Picket Fences, a professional woman finds her true love in an unlikely place, only to discover that her family does not approve.

He Takes the Cake is set at a wedding shower where the cake comes to the rescue, saving a friend from making a terrible mistake. The Last Time is the story of a deteriorating marriage in which a husband loves collecting rare books more than he loves his wife.

The final story is a bona fide fairy tale about two children, Henry and Ginny, who disappear one sunny day. Lucky for them, Henry’s mother has the perfect formula for finding the two adorable youngsters who ultimately discover that not all old ladies are as sweet as Henry’s Nana.”

 

I hope you’ll take a look, and maybe even download it or buy the print copy.

 

 

 

 

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     Real Estate

boat ride

Some friends and I had a wonderful day out today. We went to nearby Winter Park, a chi-chi destination in the Orlando area. We took the iconic Winter Park Boat Ride—an attraction (for want of a better word) that has been around for decades.

An open boat powered by an outboard motor cruises through three of the Winter Park-Maitland chain of lakes. It’s a pleasant ride featuring views of beautiful homes, scenery, and parts of Rollins College.

The tour guide was a man who probably helped launch the business 40+ years ago. He pointed out all of the historic sights, and commented on the beautiful homes that ringed the lakes. I don’t need to tell you that the homes were enormous—some as large as 20,000 square feet! He also entertained us by telling us that purchasing a lot on the lake would cost at least a million dollars.

When I lived in Western New York, my husband and his brother co-owned an outboard motor boat. We loved to go out on Lake Erie and ogle the mansions that lined the lake shore.

We’ve also been to Ft. Lauderdale where there is a boat ride that travels through the canals that crisscross that city. And, needless to say, part of the cruise takes you past big, expensive mansions, and yachts that have their own swimming pools and helicopter pads!

It occurred to me at one time that these cruises had one odd thing in common—taking middle class folks past homes they could never afford to own. It’s almost like a tease—“See what rich folks have—that you will NEVER have!”  It reminds me of a song from Camelot, “What Do the Simple Folk Do?,” only in reverse.

There I was again today, ogling the unattainable real estate—and loving every minute of it!

 

Picture courtesy of Pixabay

 

 

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The View

Lake in Solivita before Clearing

What is the price of progress in a state like Florida where developers are king and progress is measured by how many houses can be built on a tract of land?

In a recent post I wrote about my dismay at changes that were coming to an especially scenic area across from the walking and biking path where I take my dog every day.

I lamented the clearing of land across a lake that I love, a lake that has soothed me when I needed it, and has been a delight for many years.I’ve watched the clearing of the land for the last week or so. At first it seemed judicious, and then the heavy machinery moved in. Overnight huge mature trees were uprooted and piled like so much trash along the bank across the lake. The piles of debris are easily viewed from the walking and biking path. Large swaths of land are now visible, forming lots on which houses will sprout like mushrooms.

The view as it looks today

Other residents, people I see almost every day on my walks with my dog, have remarked on the change.  The consensus is that the once beautiful, calming view has been destroyed.

When I am rational about this change, I realize that my neighborhood was just as lush and green before houses were constructed as the tract of land I am lamenting.

I am sure  buyers will come along in a few months, excited about the lovely view from their new homes.

Meanwhile, I will see this construction as more scars upon the land.

Yes, we pay a heavy price here in Florida for the autonomy developers have been granted.

Ah, progress!

 

 

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Living the Disorganized Life

 

I am disorganized. There, I said it. Whew! What a weight off my shoulders.

I’ve spent the better part of the last five decades promising myself that I’ll get organized–only to break that promise thousands of times.

I admire organized people: the ones who always know where stuff is, who clean their files out every year, whose desks are cleared every day. I want to be one of them, to join their club.

I don’t know what it is about me. I set up systems and within days, I’m back to my disorganized ways.

Now, it’s  not that I can’t find thing—often I can—especially when I stack them in the same place each time. chaos pixababyBut too often, I have to tear my files, (such as they are) apart, to locate some important piece of paper.

My late husband was the direct opposite. He filed everything, labeled it, and once a year cleaned out his files. After he passed away, I was so grateful for his organization because it made everything easier for me. Now I worry that when it’s my turn to ascend to the pearly gates, my daughter will go insane trying to find stuff.

So, I think I better try to at least find the urgent stuff, re-file it, and resolve to keep it where it can be found easily.

At least that’s my intention.

Now, where is that list of blog ideas?

 

 

Picture courtesy of Pixabay

 

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Progress?

The Lake

The Lake

The developer here in my community continues to build new homes wherever the company can find a space that could accommodate a house, even if it’s a lot no bigger than the proverbial postage stamp.

That’s the price of living in a community that is still actively under construction.

Recently the developer has begun to clear land to build homes along my favorite space here—a linear lake that runs parallel to Solivita Boulevard.  I take my dog Sparkle for a walk there, as do many other residents. People also walk and bike along this pathway. The pathway is shaded and the view across the lake is serene and natural with a thick stand of old trees. I often stopped there to meditate.

I don’t know why I was so naive about this area. I thought that it might be a “forever green” space—but, alas, it wasn’t.

The first sign that something was afoot were stakes with red ties on them, obviously marking the boundaries of lots, which popped up one day. When I first saw them, I felt saddened. I love this path and the beautiful view of the water and the woods that frame it. The thought that the woods would be torn apart for more homes was upsetting, especially given the fact that there is plenty of land left to develop. But this particular area would be in high demand. It will command a view of the golf course and the lake.

I cringed at the thought of listening to the bulldozers as they uprooted old trees covered in Spanish moss that went back possibly a hundred years or more. I had seen the bulldozers when another nearby tract was cleared, and the crashing and crunching of trees was sickening.

I wondered if there was some way to stop this development. But I knew it would be a fool’s errand.  I imagined lying down in front of the ‘dozers as they rumbled along the road hell-bent on their mission of destruction. Then I imagined myself being scooped up with the tree debris as it was loaded onto a truck and hauled away, or worse, set afire.  After all, this is Florida—the land developers dream of because virtually anything goes.

So far the clearing of the lots has been prudent. Many of the older trees have been left standing. But I fear that that can change any day.

A thought occurred to me when Sparkle and I were out for our walk. The neighborhood I live in now probably resembled this particularly beautiful area before homes were built on it. The whole tract of land that our community was built on had been a favorite hunting ground—a virtual wilderness for many generations.

I can imagine the thick groves of trees that populated all of what is now called Rainbow Lakes. And I’m sure that the bulldozers knocked down old tress and displaced all sorts of wildlife to make neat parcels of land.  Later, young trees were planted on the plots of land and landscaping was installed. The unnatural replaced the natural.

 

So, I can hardly criticize the developer.

After all, I was happy to find a nice house in this development. I never gave a thought to what had been here before and the impact that building my home had on the environment.

Still, I can’t help wishing that some areas were “hands off” simply because of their natural beauty. Where the developer sees high priced homes on choice lots, I see a stand of woods bordering a picturesque lake. I keep telling myself to concentrate on the soothing water and the trees that border it still.

But a question keeps intruding into my thoughts.

Is this progress?

I guess it depends on your perspective.

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