Cold Pizza and Coffee...

Sometimes, things just don't go together. Or maybe we just think they shouldn't because that's what someone else told us. Say for instance, a writing career and some other full-time endeavor such as being a mother or a wife. Now, don't get all huffy. Give me a moment to explain. It's often difficult to see where one role should end and the other should begin. And sometimes it's impossible to see them ever working together in perfect harmony. If we aren't careful, the two roles may find themselves at odds with one another and one or both may suffer. Unless, of course, we find ways to bring the two roles together into something that not only makes sense, but makes you feel like you've accomplished what you originally set out to achieve.

Years ago, I would never have imagined that I would be writing mysteries while also working at a "day job" and being a wife and mother. If you had asked me six years ago where I pictured myself in the year 2010, I would have said that I'd be working in some non-profit agency, fighting unfair changes in policy and being nearly completely miserable with my life while watching my life pass unsatisfyingly in front of my eyes. And you would have said, "Is unsatisfyingly even a word?" Yes, it's in my dictionary. The one I intend to publish later, but that's another story.

In any case, I would never have thought that I would be an elementary school librarian, a mystery writer and the mother of a five and a half year old daughter. These three things actually do go together in lots of ways, however; sometimes when I'm in the midst of it all, I can't see the connections very clearly. When I'm trying to think of all of the things I need to have finished for my students each day as well as the homework I'll be helping Mya with and the corrections I need to make to my manuscript, it all appears very incompatible. How in the hell can I ever get all of these things to work together?

This morning as I was looking around the kitchen, the answer to this question came to me as I filled my coffee cup and then remembered that there was some cold pizza in the refrigerator that I really wanted to eat for breakfast. Of course, many people wouldn't approve of my choice and some wouldn't think it made sense at all. But for me, it was what I wanted. It was what sounded like a great idea to me and it certainly wasn't going to hurt anyone. So what if I'm mixing breakfast with dinner? Who gives a big shit? Unorthodox? Well, sure. But I'm not hungry anymore and I'm wide awake. So, I achieved this morning's goal.

You're probably thinking, "That still doesn't make much sense." Well, okay. My point is this; what may not seem to make sense to others may be exactly what you need in your life. You are the only one who can make that call and you shouldn't worry about what others might think of your choices. Ultimately, you're the one who will suffer the heartburn and so if it doesn't work out well for you, you take responsibility for your actions. Sometimes our goals don't fit into what others may see as where we should be spending our time or expending our energies. To that, I say, "Too bad for them." If I want pizza with my coffee, that's my business. Let them eat eggs.


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You like square whats?

I am a big fan of Spongebob Squarepants. Any mother of a five-year old is most likely aware of his existence in the everyday life of their child. What I am not a fan of, however, is the use of Spongebob to promote a song that really has nothing to do with children. My daughter, who is five, is not even allowed to listen to this Sir Mix-a-lot song, so imagine my dismay when I looked around at the television to find the big butts song pushing kid's meals. My daughter loves the Burger King kid's meal. How long will it be before she is going around the house singing, "I like square butts and I cannot lie..."?

Is this something that should disturb me? Well, sure it is. For one thing, I don't want her listening to any music that objectifies women. I don't feel that this music does much to further our (women's)cause and I don't feel like children have enough life experience and context to understand the music before the words become engrained on their little psyches. So, long before they understand what it means to "like big butts," they are convinced that they already do.

For another thing, can't Burger King find a better way to lure children into their restaurants than to substitute their own lyrics to a raunchy adult song like this one? I mean, isn't this kind of a cheap tactic to employ? Sure, some parents out there might think the song is funny. I even think the song is a little catchy if you don't listen too closely while you have your brain engaged. But when I really listen to it, I'm somewhat offended and it takes alot to offend me.

I'm not sure how much lower we can sink as a nation if we are going to start marketing to our children through means such as these. What's next, are they going to try to sell dinosaur toys using a cleaned up version of 2 Live Crew's big hit, Me So Horny? Tacky, isn't it? For now, I think we'll give BK a rest and start taking our kid's meal business to McDonald's.

Until next time...

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The only time I get sentimental...

There's something about the holidays that brings out my sentimental side. Most people wouldn't believe that I listen to Christmas music in my car, that I always try to put up my Christmas tree right after Thanksgiving, that I like to watch the same sappy Christmast movies over and over throughout November and December or that I look forward to seeing all of the lights and decorations go up each year. I just don't seem to be that way in real life. The truth is, Christmas has been the most consistent thing in my life over all these years and for this, I have set aside a special place in my heart for all things Christmas.

The earliest memories of Christmas I have are of my father being on the road working and my mother and I spending most of the season alone. There were always lots of presents back then because I was an only child for six years. One year, I remember getting a guitar which I promptly broke. How did I know that tightening up the strings would cause such a catastrophe? I was only about five years old and I really had no idea how to approach the instrument. Needless to say, I never learned how to play.

Just a few years later, when there were a couple of sisters added to the mix, Christmas was always time to visit relatives and eat pies and candies that were brought in by relatives we only saw a few times a year. It was the time when everyone enjoyed being together and things didn't seem quite so complicated.

There were some Christmases when things weren't so great, but I always remember feeling good about this time of year because people made an effort to be together. Whether that came from guilt or holiday spirit didn't matter, the point was that we were together. Now, years later, as everyone has either divorced, moved away or both, it's harder to get together. Members of the family have gotten older, some have strayed from reality, some have just disappeared altogether, some are sick, some have passed away. Though this time of year could be a time of sadness, I can still find contentment in hearing the same old songs each year, watching the same old movies, and looking at the same old lights.

I'm not sure this makes sense to anyone but me, however, I think my point is this: Though families may change or go through difficult times, the fact remains that every year we have the opportunity to make things right again. Actually, every day we have this opportunity but most people don't think of it until the holidays roll around. That's okay. Every little bit helps. Even if there are those whom we can't change, we can still enjoy what the season is about and appreciate that it means something to most everyone.

So, as I sit here in the dark (except for the lights on my Christmas tree), writing this, I hope you can think back on your Christmas experiences and find reasons why this is a great time for just enjoying life and being hopeful. Good things can still happen and most likely will. And if you can't believe that, just turn on your radio and find that station that plays all Christmas music all the time. If that doesn't make you smile, then you're not trying hard enough.

Until next time...


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Happy Mother's Day!

My daughter came down with a nasty case of something and we were in crisis mode most of the last day and a half. Thankfully, her fever has finally gone down and she's in the whiny, I don't want to stay in bed phase. Needless to say, Happy Mother's Day!

She did manage to give me a very nice little card this morning, although she couldn't understand why she didn't get one too and continues to cry because no one gave her a card. Very cute. I'm just glad we're past the fever and the throwing up. :)

Well, I'm not going to linger here today. I have to find my mother and give her our gift. I always enjoy picking out a gift for my mother. Usually, it's something similar to what she got the year before but I try to do variations on a theme. I can remember nearly thirty years ago when I would go with my dad to this little flower shop in New Carlisle, Ohio and pick out her roses. Every year, we would pick out a dozen roses and take them home to her. It's funny how I can even smell the roses when I think back to that time. When I finally became a mother, it was the first thing I thought of on my first mother's day. I hope my daughter will look back on the gifts she has given me and know how much each little card and flower has meant.


Until next time...

An Old Chunk of Coal?

Over the next several weeks, I will be blogging about coal mines and how they appear in some of the popular fiction of today. My grandmother lived in coal country and even worked in the coal mines for a time and I have always been fascinated by this. I'll be posting several different pieces of my research here for your reading pleasure.

Stay tuned...

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman...

Evidently. In thinking about some of the things that have been in the news lately, I realized that in the first Rona Shively book, In the Wash, I might not have given the issue of Gender Reassignment its due. Being the concise writer that I am, I didn't dwell on the mechanics of the process undergone by the missing character in this story, however, I did touch on the emotional distress that she was in during her brief marriage to Rona's client, Mr. Delvecchio.

We've all been hearing about the pregnant man, Thomas Beatie. At the time that the story broke, I was pregnant with our second child and having had several miscarriages in the past, I understood his motivation and I didn't necessarily begrudge he and his wife of being able to carry and deliver a healthy child. Whether I agreed with their approach or not, I understood the pain of not being able to bring a child into the world and trying to find some way to make it happen. Sadly, at our sixteen week mark, we discovered that we had miscarried once again and as I looked back at the story about the pregnant man, I became angry. I was not only angry at him, I was angry at just about anyone who was able to have a baby. This was irrational, of course, and definitely a short-lived reaction. But it was a gut reaction to our loss and I have since been able to process it with a little more compassion in my heart.

Thomas Beatie was, at one time, a woman. For whatever reason, she decided that she wanted to be a man. I'm not sure why, but she also decided to keep her female reproductive organs. Since, according to his article in the March 26 edition of the Advocate.com online newsletter, sterilization is not required as part of gender reassignment surgery, he decided to maintain his reproductive rights as a female. This turned out to be a good decision for him because he and his wife wanted children and as it turned out, she was unable to have them. Although it wasn't a popular or even practical idea, Thomas decided that he would attempt to carry a child. He stated that, "Wanting to have a biological child is neither a male nor female desire, but a human desire." I have to agree.

After five miscarriages, we still very much want another child. We were fortunate enough to have a wonderful daughter four years ago, but we have always wanted to give her a sibling. Although intriguing, I can't imagine having my husband carry a child for us even if he were physically able to do so. I have always felt that women share a special bond with their children that men miss out on. The experience of carrying a child would definitely give men the perspective that I feel they have been lacking when it comes to child rearing, but the idea pretty much scares most people to death because it is so far from traditional beliefs about childbearing and gender issues. While it may not be part of the Divine plan, it's happening for the Beatie family.

As I think about it, our society has always viewed anything related to transgenders with either contempt or a strange mix of scorn and compassion which comes out through humorous portrayal of their plight. For me, it is a tough issue to wrap my mind around. I have always been comfortable with my sexual identity as a female. The only times I have wanted to be a male have been related to being able to pee in inconvenient places or when it was time to get a raise. Not to make light of the situation, but for me, it has never been part of any internal conflict. So I can't imagine how difficult life would be if I were struggling with wanting to be a different gender.

I have never felt that it was my place to judge people or to dictate how people live their lives. I grew up with only limited exposure to church and conventional religion and have been open to the ideas of different groups as they relate to a Higher Power. Most of what I learned along the way seems to have pointed to how wrong it is to do something like what Thomas Beatie is doing. But for me, there is some conflict involved in judging him so harshly. He doesn't answer to me and I certainly don't have the power or authority to say whether or not he is right or wrong in what he is doing. It's all wrapped up in fate, karma, and just what feels right for me. As long as I am doing what I believe is right and I'm not trying to inflict any emotional or physical pain on anyone, I feel that I am doing what my God wants and expects me to do. In short, I am no longer angry and I wish the Beaties all the best in their quest to grow a family.

In my book, In the Wash, Lucy Deardon's character was plagued by a desire to be something other than what she was. She tried and tried to adjust to life as a female, but, in the end, she decided that becoming a man was the only option that felt right. Along the way, some people were hurt, mostly because they felt that her anguish was somehow a sinister plan to hurt or humiliate them, but it was really all about what felt right for Lucy. Before I wrote this book, I never really thought about the plight of the transgendered. I would watch funny movies like To Wong Foo or The Birdcage and think that these people simply enjoyed cross-dressing. Obviously, there's more to it than this and whether or not it makes sense to me, it will most likely always be an issue.

Until next time...

Baby takes brain, film at eleven!

Amidst the cravings, the morning sickness and the mood swings, it occurred to me that I haven't been blogging much lately. I apologize to those of you who have missed my unbridled wit. All I can say is that I haven't had much brain power lately and I probably won't have anything terribly witty to say until I'm sure that the baby is healthy and that we are going to make it through until my due date in September. I'll do my best, but the most I can offer for now are my observations about this pregnancy as compared to my last:

I have noticed that the cravings this time are slightly more interesting than before. With my daughter, I craved apples and cheese, Stewarts Key Lime soda, and s'mores. This time, I'm craving pizza, angel food cake and Stewarts Orange. Bizarre, but it's better than pickles and ice cream.

It's been four years or so since I had my daughter and I'm starting to remember some of what scared me about this the first time around. The thought of having another c-section and going through the recovery has me a little tense. It wasn't all that easy before, but now that I'm older, I'm sure it will take a bit more of a toll on me. This is fine with me, though as long as the baby is healthy.

My four year old daughter is so anxious to meet her new little brother or sister that she asks me every day whether or not the baby is ready yet. She talks to my stomach and tells me that the baby is saying hello and that it loves me. I enjoy talking to my daughter about what is going on with the baby and explaining to her how she will need to be ready to be a big sister. She's even come up with a beautiful name for the baby if it's a girl. She wants to call her Angelica Bailey. Not bad!

My husband, who will be forty this year is also very excited at the prospect of a new baby. I think he really wanted a big family and the fact that we've had some problems with other pregnancies made us wonder if we would ever be able to have our 2.5 kids. With this new little one, we will have two kids and three Yorkies. That pretty much does it. Who could ask for more than that?

Well, I'll do my best to keep you updated as I go through the next two trimesters. Bear with me, I am so focused on trying to send good energy to the baby that I sometimes can't put together a thought outside of what's going on with the pregnancy. In the meantime, don't forget to check out the From the Shadows horror anthology available at Triad Publishing Group. My short horror story, Eleven is in there along with several other talented authors' works. In addition, if you enjoyed the contest I ran a month or so back, you can get the mini-mystery collection at my Lulu.com store. It's called, A Little Bit of Murder.

Until next time...

And the merry bells keep ringing...

or so they say. It's the holiday season once again and I find myself feeling happy that they are here, but at the same time plagued by a sense of sadness and uneasiness. I'm not quite sure what is causing my dismay. Things are good. People are doing ok. There have been some ups and downs this year, but for the most part, it was ok.

I guess this feeling might have something to do with watching my little girl get older. Her personality has really started to show over these last few months and I can see for sure that she is truly my little girl. She has the same attitude, the same sense of humor and the same flair for the dramatic. I'm enjoying seeing her figure things out and really grasp how to do things. I'm also dreading watching her go to school in the next couple of years. Luckily, I have an extra year before she starts kindergarten because she is a November baby.

I might also be feeling this way because each Thanksgiving, I visit both of my parents for dinner and I always get to see people that I haven't seen for a while. For some reason, this makes me sad. I'm happy to see friends and family, but it also hurts a little to know that you have no control over the passage of time. Watching some of my relatives grow older is difficult for me. I don't do well with loss and any time I lose someone, I find it very hard to recover. Although we haven't lost anyone this year, the feeling hangs over me like a weight that is ready to drop on my shoulders when I'm not expecting it. It's tough, but like everyone else, I have to deal with the inevitable. At some point, I will lose someone else I care about and there will be nothing that I can do to stop it. Depressing, but what can I say.

Though I love the holidays, I always have this little nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach when it comes time to put up the tree or buy gifts or do anything that is remotely festive. This is my favorite time of year and I am not sure how I can be so happy yet so sad at the same time, but I do it every year. I am hopeful that this will be a great Christmas and that we'll all get to 2008 in one piece. But, in my heart, I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess for now, I will have to take some pleasure in listening to my favorite Christmas songs on the radio when I'm out looking for that perfect gift. I'll observe happily as my daughter watches some of my old favorite Christmas cartoons. I'll thank God that I've made it this far and I'll pray that the next year will be even better. For now, I'll turn up that radio and listen as Happy Holidays floats past my ears.

Until next time...

Today's Question

I guess that would be, "What exactly is today's question?" Things seem so blah these days that I have little inspiration to write. I don't want to focus on the negative, so I've been keeping alot to myself these days. Other than the occasional MySpace survey, I haven't been sharing much. So, I guess I will take this opportunity to do a little sharing whether or not I really feel like it. In a couple of weeks, I'll be coming up on the anniversary of a nasty injury that kept me sidelined for much of September, October and part of November last year.

Last September, I had a heart cath done as a precautionary measure. I had been feeling alot of pain and was certain that I was going to have a heart attack. Thankfully, they found nothing to show that my fears were warranted. I left the hospital after several hours and came home feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. About twenty-four hours later, I started having pain in my leg. I told myself it was just some residual pain that would go away with time. As it turned out, the pain stayed and I went back to the hospital to have them check it out. They told me that it was nothing and even said, "Go home and take some Ibuprofen, you'll be fine."

I did as I was told. I came back home, I took the Ibuprofen, I laid down. About six hours later, I thought I was going to die. My leg felt like it was going to explode. It had swollen up to about three times its usual size and I was hurting. By the time I got to the hospital, I was in so much pain, I couldn't think. They ended up having to give me two units of blood and I was in the hospital for three days. I had bled out from the procedure and had lost about a third of my blood. All of which had settled in my poor, swollen leg. It took me about three months to be able to walk without pain. I still have some pain from time to time, but for the most part it is back to normal.

As I sit here today, I think about how lucky I am that things are actually back to normal and that I can sit comfortable at this computer and write this piece today. Although it may not seem relevant to whatever is happening in the world today, the experience really put some things into perspective for me. Aside from scaring the hell out of me, it made me realize that sometimes if you don't slow down, God will reach into your life and slow you down. I'm not an overly religious person, but I do believe in God. Had it not been for His intervention, I would never have made it through and had the appreciation I have for simply taking my time. So, as you flip through the channels today or page through the newspaper, try not to be too discouraged by what you see. Take some time to think about how you got here and what you want to do with your time and don't forget to take it easy when you need to. It will all still be here tomorrow.

Have a great day!

Slowing Down

I think the hardest thing for me to do is to slow myself down and enjoy life. Over the past few months, I've been trying to back off from taking on too many projects and now that I've phased some things out, I'm going a little nuts. I get to a point where I just need to have something going on. While most people seem to enjoy the sounds of silence, it makes me feel as though I should be in a rubber room somewhere.

The point of my slowing down was to allow me to enjoy the time I have with my little girl before she has to go to school. I have a couple of years, but I wanted to make the most of the time. When I had my little girl, I was a very different person. I wanted to get to the top of that career ladder and teeter there on the brink of insanity for the next thirty years. Now, I find it hard to even prop the ladder against a wall. It's funny how our priorities change once we become parents. I know I never would have dreamed that I would leave a prestigious position with a well-known organization to stay at home and be a mom. But for me, the mommy gene and the corporate career gene simply aren't able to coexist.

So, I sit here every morning making my rounds on the internet. Before she wakes up, I check e-mail, update websites, update blogs, look for interesting stuff, check the obituaries to make sure I haven't passed on, and then I think about all of the things I used to get done before 9 a.m. when I had a "real job." I can't believe I ever put myself through that. Now, when my daughter wakes up, I'm here and she doesn't feel pressured by my hurrying to get her to a babysitter. It has made a significant change in her. One that is worth at least giving up a relatively large salary. She's happy, she's having fun and I think she feels more secure.

I'm approaching my thirty-fifth birthday and it has become clear to me over the last few years that life is much more than how much you can bring home on your paycheck. If you can't get something more from the work you are doing than simply cash rewards, then it probably isn't even worth doing. I feel more fulfilled at this point in my life than I ever did before. Although it scares me to slow down, I am comforted by the knowledge that it has made a very positive impact on my daughter. She sees that she is more important to me than anything else and that it is possible to choose a path that fits what is in your heart.

Until next time...