Fast Lane Confessions

During a recent interview I was asked an interesting question:  “If someone were to write a book about your life, what would it be titled?”  The answer instantly popped into my head.   It would be called, Fast Lane.

 

It all started when I was a child.  I would run everywhere.  I would dash down the hallways so fast I’d run into people and hurt them.  My mom often winced in pain, hollering at me to slow down, after I had inadvertently crashed into her.   I ate fast, danced fast, played fast, ran fast, prayed fast, drove fast and grew up way too fast. 

I was always in a hurry, always rushing toward the next adventure, antsy for excitement and wanting to experience everything life had to offer; no matter the risk. Danger was less scary than boredom.  I was never a sit-in-front-of-the-television-all-night type of girl.  I wanted to party.  I wanted to smoke it, snort it, toke it, foil it, bong it, bang it, crack it, taunt it, tease it, tempt it, taste it, make it and ultimately squeeze every last juice out of life.

Looking back at my youth, I did just that.  I wrapped my arms around life and squeezed it as hard as I could.  My zeal certainly led me down some unsavory paths; but damn, did I have fun!  I made mistakes and there are skeletons in my closet I wish I hadn’t put there; but the good memories far outweigh the bad. 

Whether I was driving across the country all by myself in the middle of the night, bungee jumping at the VP Fair, flashing my tits in New Orleans to earn some beads, snorting lines at a Hall & Oates concert, going to a nudist colony in Malibu, kissing another woman, dancing erotically in Hong Kong, having sex in a bull dozer or on the big M in the middle of Faurot Field…. I was living in the fast lane, with the crisp, cool wind in my hair and the moonlight reflecting wildly in my eyes.  I was alive.

Now, as I learn to embrace my forties, I often fight my body’s urge to enter the slow lane; but not my spirit.  I still want to party like a rock star, jump from a plane, dance wildly, have a lot of sex and every so often, go a little crazy.  I want to laugh harder, act sillier, love deeper, be less afraid, be more open, more willing, sweeter, kinder, more passionate and embrace life in a way I’ve yet to imagine. 

 

The way I see it, my youth was simply a training ground and life in the Fast Lane is just beginning.  ~

The Orange-Obsessive Zone

Someone asked me a question that is difficult to answer.  In fact, I don’t think it has just one answer.  The question posed was this:  “If someone you love is involved in something that you believe to be dangerous, and you have tried to communicate your concern, at what point do you give up and walk away?”

I don’t know. I suppose it all depends upon the situation; but here’s what I do know.

Love says fight for them, for their safety, for their physical well-being, and for their emotional, mental and spiritual balance.  Reality says you cannot continue to beat your head against a wall if they are not listening to you and don’t care about your concerns.  So, how long do you fight for someone you love?

Time, experience and heartache have taught me one thing:  Love and respect must be mutual for a relationship to flourish. If you take your concern to someone you love and they refuse to listen; then what is the point of further talking.  If you open your heart to reach them and they ignore your words or worse yet, tell you that you are deceived; perhaps it is time to let go.

Life is about making choices.  People can choose to live out of balance or balanced lives.  The burden of that choice falls on their shoulders, as do the consequences. Obsessive behavior destroys relationships because with that obsession comes isolation from those who don’t share in the obsession.  It often takes relationships that were once meaningful and causes them to have a fake, surface-level feel.   

For example:  if I eat oranges every day for every meal and it is the only thing I eat; is that a healthy choice?  Sure, oranges are rich in Vitamin C and have qualities that are good for my body; but a diet of only oranges is not healthy.  Then, if I grow my own oranges and all I talk about is oranges, and I attend orange conventions and speak on orange growing; what becomes of the people in my life who don’t like oranges?  What do we then discuss?  Eventually, with a diet of only oranges, my skin would begin to tint orange.  I would stand out as odd-looking, that is, unless I surrounded myself with other people who only ate oranges.  Then, I would fit in and never have to deal with the uncomfortable feeling of being around those that were not as unbalanced in their orange consumption as I had become. By becoming obsessive about oranges, I have isolated non-obsessive people from my life.  I’ve created my very own orange-obessive-zone.

The point is, there are things in life that have goodness in them, when they are taken in moderation.  Too much of a good thing can quickly become a bad thing.  Obsessive behavior destroys relationships because it is a life that has spiraled into an out-of-balance tailspin, casting everyone and everything else aside.

If someone you love is living out-of-balance, and you have tried with all of your might to show them the damage their lifestyle has and is causing, then it might be time to walk away.  If they don’t respect you and love you enough to care about your concerns for them, then why are you continuing to beat your head into the wall they have built?

Pray for them.  Be there if they ever decide that they need you.  Love them from afar.  BUT… if watching them destroy themselves, their family and their friendships is painful, then don’t watch.  Looking away isn’t turning your back; it’s simply guarding your own heart from the pain they have caused.  You can only try so many times and endure so much rejection and be told that you are deceived and wrong so many times before you finally have to accept that they do not care. Your opinion doesn’t matter to them.

Addictions come in many forms.  There are workaholics, spendaholics, sexaholics, alcoholics, drugaholics, religionaholics, sportsaholics, etc.  There are mental addictions, physical addictions, emotional addictions and spiritual addictions.  ANY addiction is unhealthy and throws life out of balance.  There is no “right” addiction.  There is no “harmless” addiction.  If someone is addicted to something… if they have made something their entire existence…if they eat it, drink it, breathe it, think it, love it, live it and nothing else… it IS harmful to them, no matter how good it looks or feels.

When you confront a loved one about an addiction and they are more willing to lose you forever than to loosen their grip on the compulsion that has taken over their life… that’s a problem…that’s an addiction…and they need help.  The painful part is that you can’t force them into caring.  You can’t force them back into a state of balance.  

Only they can change…and if they refuse…then maybe it’s time you let go and walk away.  ~ 

 

That Much Closer to Success

I've had many writers contact me, asking the same question:  "Now that my book is finished, how do I get it published?" 

The first step is to decide what path you want to take.  Do you want to seek representation with a Literary Agent, who will then attempt to sell your book to a Publishing House?  Do you want to solicit your manuscript directly to a Publisher?  Or do you want to self-publish your work?

If you choose either of the first two options, you will need to know how to write a query letter, a synopsis, an outline (if your book is non-fiction), write a proposal and develop a short pitch.

There are many books available to teach writers these very skills.  My advice is to buy one and use the examples to help you as you draft your own query, synopsis and pitch. (I recommend "The Writers Guide to Queries, Pitches & Proposals" by Allen, Moira Anderson)

Once you feel like you have perfected your entire proposal package, research agents or publishers and determine which one is a good fit for your book. (I recommend picking up a copy of "The 2013 Writers Market Guide").  Each agent and/or publisher listing will tell you their submission guidelines, as well as they type/genre of books they are seeking and accepting.  Follow their guidelines.   If you don't, you are only wasting their time and yours.

The most important thing to remember is that the process of seeking representation can take time and can be a pathway riddled with rejection letters.  Don't let them discourage you or cause you to give up.  Keep writing, editing, re-writing and putting your work out there.  Every so-called failure brings you that much closer to success. ~

Exciting Review!!!!

I woke up this morning to a review of my latest release, House of Lies.  Needless to say, I am smiling big! :)

Please check out the review at TrueBlueEbookReview.

Here is a video trailer to give you a feel for what the novel is about:



You can buy House of Lies on Amazon, Smashwords, AllRomanceEbooks and Barnes&Noble.  Please download your copy today or pre-order the print copy, to be released in November.

Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  :)

My Fall Fangs

Fall is my favorite time of year.  I love the cool air, the colorful earthly changes, the anticipation of snow, Halloween, football and the fact that it gets dark by six o’clock so I can light candles all over the house.  I love putting on warm sweaters, snuggling by a fire, and the smell of pumpkin pie.  I love everything about autumn. It makes me feel re-energized which is why my “spring cleaning” always takes place in the fall.

Some have said I’m “bass-ackwards” in this regard, as spring denotes renewal and regrowth, where one cleans out the old and makes room for the new; where we “spring forward” into a new year, blah, blah, blah.  I’ve never felt that way about spring.  In fact, spring depresses me.  I don’t care much for flowers, except giant sunflowers and white daisies. I can’t stand the smell of most flowers and don’t appreciate the fact that they draw bees and other bugs.  I don’t like that the days are getting longer or that summer and hot weather is looming.  Suffice to say, if I could hibernate through spring and summer, I would.

Fall is when I pull on my yellow, rubber, scrubbing gloves and attack the base boards, showers, toilets and windows.  It’s when I clean out the pantry, the fridge and re-organize the freezer.  It’s when the Goodwill donation truck visits my house on a weekly basis, as I sort through all the un-necessary items we’ve accumulated and the outgrown clothing.  

Yes, fall is when I am at my best, emotionally and creatively.  I feel motivated to write and generally more peaceful.  It is when I stop, take in a deep breath and appreciate the blessings in my life.

Isn’t it strange how a season can change your mood?

Statistically, more people suffer from depression in the fall and winter months and this has, in part, been attributed to the lack of sunlight during those seasons.  I am the opposite.  I thrive in the dark, colder months and barely get by during the spring and summer.  In fact, the sunlight of summer irritates me.  I am rarely seen without a dark pair of sunglasses and am not one to just sit outside and enjoy nature.  (Unless I’m in the mountains, where it’s cooler, and where the beauty surrounding me is indescribably surreal.)

It has been said I would make a great vampire, frolicking beneath the moonlight in the cool evening air.

See, I don’t have a green thumb and I find growing plants that I cannot later eat, quite unfulfilling.  I also don’t like to sweat, unless it’s during a good work-out; and I can’t stand bugs, mosquitos and June bugs in particular.  Thus, from a nature perspective, spring and summer offer me very little pleasure. 

Today, as I adorn my yellow, rubber, scrubbing gloves and attack my house, it is with a light heart and a big smile; for fall is here and I am aglow, ready to sink my fangs into life.  J

 

Missing the Point

I posted this photo to Facebook last night and then stepped away from my computer to get the kids ready for bed.  As one friend put it,   “That was like dropping a water balloon off of a building and then not waiting around to see who got soaked.”  He was right.  By the time I sat back down in front of my computer, a heated debate had erupted all over my wall. 

What instantly struck me was the fact that most of the people completely missed the point of the picture.  The point was NOT to condone, condemn nor debate homosexuality; the point was that bigotry is an act of hatefulness, one clearly depicted in the images of the adults and children holding signs.  The point is bigotry in any form is wrong.

Many people quoted Scripture which was focused on homosexuality; again, not the point of the picture.  The picture is making a comparison between acts of love and acts of hate.  No matter how you personally feel about homosexuality, you don’t have the right to judge other people.  Bigotry comes in many forms.  It can be against color, race, religion, sexual preference, etc.  Bigotry in all forms is simply a cowardly act of spreading hatred.   It is not an action of love.

 

No one holds a sign up that reads:  “God hates you,” as an act of love.  No one holds a sign up that reads:  “God hates Fags,” as an act of love.  Jesus didn’t and wouldn’t act this way; nor should His followers.

Ironically, a passage of Scripture that was not quoted in the debate was Mark 12:28-33.  It reads like this:

²⁸ One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

²⁹ “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. ³⁰ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ ³¹ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

³² “Well said, teacher,” the man replied. “You are right in saying that God is one and there is no other but him. ³³ To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.”

Last I checked, loving your neighbor didn’t mean shoving a sign in their face that says God hates them or that they are going to hell.  

Again, the above picture was not about whether you think homosexuality is right or wrong; it is about bigotry being wrong.

“Faith, hope and love…but the greatest of these is love.”  I Corinthians 13:13

Cautious, Aware and Scared to Death

With Jessica Ridgeway’s killer still at large, I find it nearly impossible to let down my guard; and an hour doesn’t pass without me thinking about the tragic ending to her life, praying for her family and for her killer to be found.

Although the police have increased security around all of the local schools and people have rallied to help in the search for suspects; there is still an underlying fear permeating the community. Schools have sent home safety guidelines, encouraging parents to talk with their kids about what happened to Jessica.  It’s a hard conversation to have because, as a parent, you don’t want your children to live in fear; but you also don’t want them to be careless. You want them to be aware and cautious, but not paranoid.  It’s a fine line, one I find myself struggling to walk. 

Without question, this tragedy has changed our daily lives.  My children used to ride their bikes to and from school; they don’t anymore.  They used to ride their scooters through the neighborhood, go to the park with friends or play in the cul-de-sac; they don’t anymore.  Instead, they play inside or in the back yard, where I can keep a constant, watchful eye. Every parent warns their kids of stranger-danger, but when a child is abducted and brutally murdered this close to home, a natural heightened awareness and paranoia ensues.  When it comes to a killer at large, the risk (albeit statistically improbable), associated with letting my kids walk to school or play alone is one I’m not willing to take; especially when criminal experts are stating that Jessica’s killer must be found quickly because he will kill again. 

Criminal profilers have said they suspect this person is a professional killer and is currently searching for his next victim.

As a mom, I’m not paranoid… I’m scared to death.  I don’t go through a day without shedding tears over Jessica; and feeling rage for the injustice of what occurred.  I wish I was a mob boss like Angel in the Just Call Me Angel series and I could order my men to find the killer and take care of him once and for all; so no parents and children would need to live in fear.  I’d have him placed in concrete boots and made to swim with the fishes.

The world can be a very ugly place, and it is often difficult to see the goodness through the despair; but the goodness is still there.  We just have to find it and focus on it.

This tragedy has made me hug my kids more, smother them in kisses, tell them more frequently how much I love them, be more attentive and ultimately realize how thankful I am for every moment with them.  It’s made me cherish our time, because there is nothing more precious than our time together.