Clean Indie Reads: ANN AND HENRY NOVELS

Clean Indie Reads: ANN AND HENRY NOVELS: by Jane McBride Romantic Comedy, LDS, Dogs Book 1: A Little Hair of the Dog When 27 year old Mormon Ann Bixby returns to the sma...

Doggone Blog Hop for charity! June 19-21st

 

When I decided to start writing books, I chose to put a special dog into the center of the story. He isn't background, he isn't a secondary character. He is a main character. Of course, he can't actually talk, but that doesn't stop him from having a perspective or from occasionally giving his opinion. I hope you will vote for Johann for TOP DOG by commenting on my blog! Two commenters will win e-book or paperback copies of A Little Hair of the Dog and Reigning Cats and Dogs. My charity is The Great Dane Friends of Ruff Love . They are a Great Dane rescue out of North Carolina and have rescued many, many Great Danes. As I said, My book series features a Great Dane named Henry. First is A Little Hair of the Dog and second, Reigning Cats and Dogs. I am working on book three and book four, which will end the series.                                                                                                                  

 I wrote a story about a young single woman who finds herself alone after the death of her father. She decides to move back to the small town of her childhood. She unexpectedly finds herself adopting a dog. And not just any dog-a Great Dane. A 180 pound two year old Great Dane named Henry. She has never had a dog.

The origins of my Great Dane character are easy to trace. When I was a kid, we adopted a Great Dane from a  rescue and my sister Jody named him Johann. He was about two when we got him, and he was a big one. He was 6'2" on his hind legs. He was a merle, grey with black spots. He was sweet, he was protective, he was introspective and if you weren't in the family, he could be down right scary. I don't remember a time when he ever scared me, not once. But some of my brother's friends may tell you a different story. He was an easy choice for my canine main character.

              

Johann-sucking his blankie

Johann, the inspiration for Henry in my books!

The beautiful Abraham and me, 1996. He isn't a character in my books, but Henry is in possession of Abraham's heart and soul. A couple of his stories have made it into my books, with Henry in the starring role.   

                                          

One of my favorite Johann stories is one that I didn't get to witness, but I have heard it from my Mom so many times that I feel like I was there. It's a real gem, and there is NO WAY I wouldn't include it in a Henry book. I found a great spot for it in book three. I come from a small town, and back in the seventies, the gas man and the electric meter man were familiar faces. If they came to read the meter, it didn't matter if no one was home and it didn't matter if the meter was in your basement, as ours was. They would come in, read your meter and leave. The gas man came, entered the house unmolested (no one ever locked their doors) and went down cellar. This was a real dirt cellar, with one hanging light bulb and a lot of dark corners. He read the meter and went back up the steps. He opened the cellar door to find, to his dismay, an extremely large dog waiting for him on the other side. A dog who was not going to let him out. That was Johann. He must have been in the bathroom reading the paper when the meter man came in, and realizing he had fallen down on his job as head of  security, decided to keep the man right where he was until Mom got home. And so he did.

When she finally came home from work, she noticed the gas meter truck-running-in the driveway, and in the house, was surprised to see the dog waiting for her by the basement door. The greatest surprise yet was in store, to hear the plaintive human cry from the cellar. "Hello?" She locked the dog up and let the man out. He had been in our spooky dirt cellar for several hours. He had made a few attempts to get past the dog, but decided his life was valuable and stayed where he was. Johann had no intention at all of letting this intruder get away. The moral of the story is, if you go to a house and see a large Beware of Dog sign, it's probably there for a reason. Also, Lock your doors!

 

Here are the other authors participating in the Doggone Blog Hop:

Author Cindy A. Christiansen

The Writings and Ramblings of Collette Saucier

Lindsay Downs

D.C. Juris

Layla Hunter

Caroline Clemmons

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bookit!: Interview with Jane McBride

Bookit!: Interview with Jane McBride: Welcome to the Wonderful Jane McBride! Hi Jane, tell us a little bit about you. Well, I live with my husband Don, my two little boys and...

Book Review: THE DREAM KEEPER

"Dreams: Dorothy called it Oz, Alice called it Wonderland, but Nightmares call it HOME. When an evil shifter takes over the gateway to the realm of Dreams, it falls to 14-year-olds Parker and Kaelyn to stop him. Their only hope lies with Gladamyr, the Dream Keeper, but can they trust a Nightmare to save their world?"

 

MY REVIEW:
 

When I was in school, long long ago, there were two distinct classes of people (and then there were others who somehow managed to skate through both groups). I don't think the group I belonged to really had a name. The other group was The Snobs. They were better looking than the rest of us (or so they thought), were better at everything (or so they thought), and were just better overall (or so they thought). They were the worst bullies, the meanest of the mean. Yet, somehow, they still had friends. I always thought the opposite should have been true. The group I belonged to were victims. In The Dream Keeper, they are The Losers. The Snobs are called The Plastics (think of Barbie dolls). Kaelyn has just moved into town and was branded a Loser almost instantly. She's quiet, maybe a bit timid, not stick thin, and not a Plastic. To make things worse, she's an orphan who lives with her Aunt Zelda, who just happens to be something of a local celebrity. She's a popular psychic. School gets almost unbearable for Kaelyn, and then she meets fellow ninth grader Parker Bennett.

I would consider Parker to be one of the skaters. One of the in betweens. He's pretty nice to everyone, well liked by most, considered one of the In Crowd by the Plastics, but also doesn't pick on the Losers. His greatest fear is becoming one of the Losers and he has learned how to walk the fine line of acceptability. He literally bumps into Kaelynn at school, and when his friends see him with her, he feels like he is at the top of the slide down to Loserville. Things get even more uncomfortable when he goes to sleep and finds himself in a dream with Kaelynn. Literally. He does convince himself that it wasn't real, but when she confronts him with knowledge of the dream the next day and tells him they have to go back to sleep-together-in order to save their world and the world of Dreams, he begins to think that the stuff in his favorite video games might be more real than he thought.

The world of Dreams is a real place, created by mortals and their sleeping thoughts. Favors are the purveyors of good dreams, Mares, bad dreams. Gladamyr was born a Mare, the Heart of Mares, in fact, but he hated being evil, was never able to accept that he was meant to be bad, used to scare children and adults alike. His mentor Allyon finally convinced him that he could make the choice, and Gladamyr chooses to be kind rather than evil. He becomes a Dream Keeper, one who guides mortals through their dream state. Some of them have nightmares, some of them have dreams, but Gladamyr is determined to be a comfort to those who have nightmares.

Mega-Bad Guy and Head Mare Fyren has gotten rid of Allyon, taken over the council and is on the hunt for Gladamyr. He puts a halt to all dream keeper activity and this is a bad thing for the world of mortals. Mortals require REM sleep, or dream sleep, and without it, we go insane and would eventually die (that's true-I heard it on Star Trek). Fyren wants to tip the balance between Mare and Favor in favor of Mare (had to say it). His reasons for wanting Gladamyr in particular are unclear, but Gladamyr knows that if he is to save the mortal world and the world of Dreams, he is going to need help from mortals. He had accidentally kept the keys of two mortals after their last dreams, and now he needs to use them. The Dream Keeper who holds a mortal's key guides that mortal's dreams when they are asleep. The two keys belong to Kaelyn and Parker, and Gladamyr has no one else to turn to when Fyren takes over Dreams, tortures Dream Keepers and holds them hostage, sets the evil Mares loose to wreak havoc, and will not allow mortals to dream.

Kaelynn and Parker find out that they are not Losers at all. They are strong and courageous, and even find special powers of their own to help save the two worlds. They pledge their help to Gladamyr and his friends Cerulean, Felix, and Pirate Cap'n Loofin Bootie in Dreams. They enlist the help of some very special fellow mortals, and Gladamyr is forced to face his evil past in order to defeat Fyren and restore balance to Dreams.

I found the story to be uniquely imaginative and very creative. It was well written and the feelings of ninth graders was right on the money. I will be recommending it to all my middle grade and young adult friends! 

 

HOW TO FIND THE BOOK

Hardback: http://www.amazon.com/Dream-Keeper-Mikey-Brooks/dp/1939993016

Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1939993032

Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/The-Dream-Keeper-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00CPE0PT0

Paperback Create Space: https://www.createspace.com/4260677

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17727253-the-dream-keeper

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1115262781?ean=9781939993014

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: 

Mikey Brooks is a small child masquerading as adult. On occasion you’ll find him dancing the funky chicken, singing like a banshee, and pretending to have never grown up. He is the author/illustrator of several books including BEAN’S DRAGONS, the ABC ADVENTURES series, and author of the middle-grade fantasy-adventure novel, THE DREAM KEEPER. He spends most of his time playing with his daughters and working as a freelance illustrator. Mikey has a BS degree in Creative Writing from Utah State University. He is also one of the hosts of the Authors’ Think Tank Podcast.

Website: http://www.insidemikeysworld.com/

Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Mikey-Brooks/e/B00B8ICZ4W

Blog: http://writtenbymikey.blogspot.com/

Podcast: http://www.foreverwriters.com/category/podcast/

Goodreads at: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17727253-the-dream-keeper  

Facebook at: http://facebook.com/writtenbymikeybrooks

Twitter as: @writtenbymikey

WattPad: http://wattpad.com/MikeyBrooks

 

My review from Ingrid Hall!

Ever see something cool and think, "Hey, I wanna do that!" Well, I saw author and blogger Ingrid Hall doing interviews and book reviews, I said, "Hey, I wanna do that!" I was really excited to see it today, and it's a pretty good review! Go check out Ingrid's blog and her books!

http://www.ingridhall.com/

Bad Grammar-Is It Really Bad?

     Well, I have gone and done it. I have gone and written and published a book that is full of good people who are smart and educated and drive cars and can go on dates and read books and everything, but their grammar-is bad. Not all of them, and not all the time. Some of them do it all of the time, and most of them do it some of the time, but what is really going on? Were they not paying attention in English class when their teachers rapped their knuckles with rulers and drove home the point, "Mother, may I?"

       In the last couple of years that I have been writing, I have been thinking about this issue, I'm sure, a lot more than most people do. Since I decided to write the way people actually speak, I had to start listening. Really listening. I really listen to myself more, and since I was writing about Western New Yorkers (state, not city), I was mostly listening to them while I was living back there a couple of years ago. I live in Utah now, and when we first came here, people would say that they could tell I wasn't from here or that I was from back east. Sometimes speech alone can make us feel like we have landed on another planet. I remember years ago, being in the car in Tennessee when my father was trying to find the house of someone named 'Brown.' He actually stopped and asked someone. "You lookin' fer Bray-own?" the man said, to my father's blank stare. Finally Dad said, "Did you say 'Brown' or 'Bray-own?'" "Bray-own," the man answered. "Bray-own? I'm looking for Brown," my father said. "Yeah, Bray-own," said the man. This conversation might have gone on indefintely if I hadn't gotten out of the car and whispered to my Dad, "He's saying Brown." To this day, I don't remember if we ever found Mr. Brown, but I will never forget that conversation. My father came out of that interaction thinking that the man must be an idiot, and the man probably thought the same thing about him. It was truly a language barrier.

       But people from the south are not the only people with accents. Everyone has an accent. If you speak, you have an accent. And so I move on to the question of grammar. Southerners use the term "y'all" to refer to several people. Where I come from, we don't use y'all-we say "yis," "youse," and "youse guys." It means the same thing. If you don't want to go someplace, you might say, "I am not going." If your friends insist and you still don't want to go, you can make a more powerful statement by saying, "I ain't going!" It might be improper grammar, but it's also more forceful. The guy who says 'ain't' knows he ain't supposed to say ain't, but its use doesn't make him stupid. It's part of the way we speak there, if we choose to. If you go walking through my small town of Medina, New York and just listen, you'll hear it. You'll hear ain't, and glorious double negatives like "ain't got no," "don't have no," and the wonderful "don't want no." Do you shower or do you take a shower? Do you use a drawer, or do you, like my Grandma, keep your clothes in a draw? If you accidentally hit your thumb with a hammer, would you let out a string of swear words that would be familiar to most, or would you say, "MINSKYA!" which is heavily in favor in my region of New York (and do you know what it means?).

Julie Coulter Bellon: First Page Friday

Julie Coulter Bellon: First Page Friday: This week's entry had an interesting opening from Wikipedia.  I couldn't wait to see what Ms. Shreditor said about it. Thank you t...

The Climb

It was time again to load the dishwasher, and being a tiresome task, it always gets me to stick music in my ears to make it bearable. First up, Miley Cyrus- The Climb. Now, I love the song, but I have always had an issue with it. She says that it doesn't matter what's on the other side of the mountain, what matters is the climb! And I always think, "Nonsense girl! Of course it matters, what's on the other side! Else we wouldn't climb at all!" As I distractedly decided what dishes went where (competition for the top rack is keen), I decided I wasn't being fair. Maybe I hadn't given Miley sufficient time to explain herself. I hit 'back' and listened to it again. And I tried to think about my climb. Maybe I haven't climbed far enough yet to really be an expert-after all, I'm probably only a quarter of the way up the mountain. And, what IS on the other side? I don't even know, really. So, what has my climb showed me? A lot of things, when I really think about it. I have learned how important editing is, even though I haven't had a professional editor. A friend and I just read my books-over and over and over and try to comb out every mistake, every inconsistency in my text (bless you Bonnie Findlay!). I have also seen books that have had either little, no or extremely poor editing, and man, I can tell you, keep that stuff off the bookshelves, please, cyber and otherwise. They are actually painful to read. There is absolutely nothing (in reading) like a fine, polished novel, and I never knew that before. I have also learned that I'm not going to fool with agents if I can help it-or I should say, that I am not going to kiss their fine little hinnies to get their attention. If I should happen upon one who wants to take me on, that might be different. I think they are just so inundated with requests that they have to be fussy. I hate the infamous 'query letter' process. All it means to me is that a potentially fabulous manuscript is being dismissed out of hand because my one page query letter wasn't worded in a way that pushed that agent's little buttons. When I looked into Amazon's FREE self publishing service, I decided to try it. If it doesn't work out, if you don't like it, you can unpublish and keep trying with mainstream publishers. But, I found out that I do like it. I like the total control I have over everything. Aside from all this, though, the most important thing I have found out is who I can count on and who I can't. Forgive any misuse of mine of the word 'who' (as opposed to 'whom'). Since I was little kid, I have known the correct usage of 'whom,' but to me it just sounded ridiculous. I have always refused to use the word. Anyway, I digress. I found out who I can count on and who I can't. There are some people, friends and family both, who wouldn't read my book because they don't want to read anything about Mormons. What, are they afraid they might read something that's true that they don't want to think is true? I don't know, and I don't ask them. There is another group, small in number, I hope, who aren't reading it because they have pretty much always been of the opinion that I probably wouldn't make anything of myself, and who am I to think I have the brains to write a book? Those people just aren't bothering to waste their time reading something I wrote (so I can surmise that none of those people are reading this!). There is another group who have found out in the last few months that they don't agree with me politically, and so have not been a support to me. I didn't diss them when I found out that they were liberals, or democrats, or whatever, but I guess they didn't feel the same tolerance. And actually, many liberal democrat friends did NOT do that to me-so, I don't mean you! All of the above might make me sound bitter, but honestly, I'm not. I have been buoyed up by the other people-the ones who have been a support. Who have bought the book, or downloaded it. Or, maybe if they couldn't afford it, downloaded it on the free days, like today and tomorrow (and I know how that is-I am right there with you). Or at the very least, for people who have just continued with the positive comments and pats on the back. Once I found out who I couldn't count on, I found I wasn't even hurt and had very litle trouble basically dismissing them. The ones that count are the ones that have stood by me. The facebook likes, the positive comments, the reviews on Amazon, the ones who have told their friends about me and have recommended my books, the ones who have handed out my blasted bookmarks, read my books, and have tirelessly pre-read those books for me, being experimented on like literary guinea pigs. Thank you Bonnie Findlay and April Elzinga! The first group (we'll call them group S, S for stinky) has actually done me a valuable service. You have to get rid of the dead weight or you'll never make it up the mountain. So, I am looking at Miley's motto in a more favorable light. The destination still matters to me-maybe making the New York Times bestseller list, or dare I hope (probably not)? Oprah's Book Club. But really, it ain't about what's waitin' on the other side. It's the climb.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/MTcyZGYwYTEwNmZhNDAxODYwZWVmZmIyYTAwZTM5OjQ=/

I have noticed that the blogs of more experienced authors are often aimed at helping new authors who are learning to navigate through shark infested waters. Some others seem to think that jumping feet first covered with blood into shark infested waters is the best way for a new author to figure out what they're doing. I decided to avoid the sharks as completely as possible. I didn't get an agent and I didn't have publishers breaking down my door. I started out doing the agent thing, query letters, etc., because I didn't know then that there was another way. I found out there were companies that you could hire to publish your book for you. But I, like many people, didn't have the money for that. Then I saw it. Publish free on Amazon. The downside is that while the process was fairly easy, I had to do everything myself. I designed the cover from a template they provided, and I'm sure that could have been done better by someone with more resources than I had. Yet, the cover, I think, turned out pretty good. The interior looks great. I was surprised, actually, by the quality of the service provided by Amazon. Heavy duty laminated paper for the cover, the pages are of excellent quality paper, and the type set looks wonderful. And now I can say I'm published. I wish now that I knew more about marketing. Right now I'm still at the point where I'm telling my friends and hoping that they'll tell their friends and that somehow it will all take off. I'm also going to sign up for Extended Distribution, a service offered by Amazon. That makes the book available to retailers and libraries.

Goodreads reviews for A Little Hair of the Dog

Reviews from Goodreads.com

I'm a published author, officially

Today seems to be an appropriate day for me to write again in my much neglected blog, being the day after my first novel was published! I was so busy writing and re-writing, revising and thinking and also taking care of kids and necessities, that the blog was one of many things that went by the wayside. It's a strange thing having my book out there. It is a great feeling, but also a scary feeling. I feel like I have just put a whole load of my own kindergartners on the bus for the very first time. I created these people, I love these people. They have been my private intellectual property for over two years and now I have sent them out into the world to sink or swim for themselves. I wonder if any other author has ever felt that way? I'm sure they must have. As I wait for people to actually read the book, I have realized that while I do desire that they will like the book (and maybe like me better for having written it), the thing that I'm really worried over is that I want them to like my characters. Ann, the skinny, klutzy heroine; Kyle, the big brooding hero who is, underneath it all, and for the right person, a big teddy bear; Bobby, the gentle giant; and Diesel Taylor-there I stop-no spoilers on Diesel. I have another worry nagging away at me too. It's the Mormon thing. Not that I'm ashamed of it-certainly not. I'm proud to be a Latter day Saint. But I have a lot of friends who are not members of the same Church as me. More than I have who are members, in fact. I don't want anyone to read my book and get the idea that maybe I am looking down on them for the way they live their lives. It has become the norm, for instance, in this world for couples of all ages to live together without being married. We just don't do it. We just don't. But if someone else is doing it, it doesn't phase me. We don't believe in sex before or outside of marriage. Again. People don't seem to be doing that anymore. We don't drink, we tend not to swear and it is my experience that we are generally nice to people. But so are other people generally nice to people. I want to say right now that whether or not you are nice to me is the only thing in that vein that I care about regarding other people. You can be black or white, Democrat or Republican, mixed race, Jewish or Catholic or Lutheran, you can be gay or straight, you can be for gay marriage or against it, you can be married or living together or living in a nudist colony. If you are nice to me, I will be nice to you, and that is the end of it. I know and respect that we are all different. In this story, my main character is a typical Mormon girl. She doesn't look down on anyone, and I don't either (at least I honestly try not to). It is my hope that people will accept the story for just what it is-fun. It's not meant to be a statement for or against anything, except for perhaps an allowance of tolerance for all other people. I'll be the first to admit that in the LDS Church, there are some people who are intolerant of (you fill in the blank). But that is true in any group of people that contains more than two people, and I don't care what that group may be. So, please, read, enjoy, laugh, cry, adopt a dog. I'm having issues posting a link to the book on Amazon. It is called A Little Hair of the Dog, by Jane McBride and is available on Amazon on kindle and in paperback.

A Movie That Made Me Think About Bullies

Here is another one that may seem to have nothing to do with being an author, but the more I think about it, the more I disagree (with myself only, so far). Everything that happens to us influences how we write-whether we write fiction or non-fiction, fantasy or mystery or sci-fi, ultimately we write about our own lives and experiences. I'm watching a movie I've never seen before. It's called Artificial Intelligence. It's about a futuristic civilization that has robots as part of the community. Mostly, I think they're workers. But they decided to make child robots that could love. The first experimental model went to a couple whose son, Martin, was in a coma and unlikely to recover. When they get their child robot, Mom is unsure, but the kid grows on her. They decide to keep him, which involves completing his programming so that he will bond with them, love them only, forever. I'm not sure what he's supposed to do someday when they die. They are quite delighted with him and begin settling in. Just then, their own son wakes up from his coma. I'm at that part of the movie right now, and I have no idea which way they're going to go. Right at the moment, I don't like what I'm seeing, and I'll tell you why. David, the robot child, is so much like William that it's difficult for me to watch this movie. He's very curious about everything, but understands little. He mimicks their movements-he doesn't eat, but watches them while they eat and pretends he is eating and drinking too. He is extremely gullible and believes everything he is told. I have just updated to include pictures-one from the movie of Haley Joel Osmont, who played David, and one of our William. They even look just alike, right down to their hair color and the little forehead cowlick that makes the little triangle shaped void in their bangs. The resemblance wasn't lost on me. Everything changes for David when Demon Child Martin comes home. Martin, having the true nature of a bully, immediately begins zeroing in on David's weaknesses. His curiosity becomes a weakness. His programmed love for his parents becomes a weakness when Martin tricks him into doing things that are wrong, telling him his parents will love him if he does these things. Martin makes David eat, knowing it will harm him. Martin tells David to sneak up on Mommy in the middle of the night and cut off a lock of her hair, then she will love him. Mommy and Daddy wake up and mistakenly believe that David was going to hurt Mommy with the scissors. Martin's equally bullying friends come over and test out the possibilities of David's natural defense systems, by purposely cutting him. As his gullibility does not allow him to see Martin for what he really is, he turns to his brother for protection from the other boys. David and Martin fall into the pool and Martin almost drowns. David gets the blame. Parents or educators of autistic children won't need to wonder for very long why these things are bothering me. Autistic children are often victimized in the same ways. I mean, the exact same ways. I have heard more than one story of "normal" kids doing things to harm special needs children who were unable to feel pain. Many autistic kids have problems processing pain. They can get hysterical over a hang nail but something that should usually cause severe pain, like a bad cut or a burn might go unnoticed. I heard a story of an autistic boy who was found with hundreds of cigarette burns all over his body because his "friends" were fascinated with his inability to feel pain. Thinking that they were his friends, he let them do it. We're all taught that our real friends will never hurt us, right? He thought they were his friends and so he let them do it. Bullies often coerce innocent special needs children, even adults, into doing their bidding, doing ridiculous things in public, things that make fools of them, things that will get them into trouble-and of course, afterward, these bullies will know nothing about any of it. I know we aren't really talking about robots here. I'll never know how the movie ended. I decided to quit when, after the pool incident, Mommy takes David out into the woods and leaves him there. The parents couldn't see their "real" son for what he was. The boys had a toy robotic teddy bear that saw what Martin was doing and he tried to help David. Pretty bad when Teddy Ruxpin is smarter and more compassionate than Mom and Dad. Do parents really not teach their kids how they should treat special needs people? My perspective is unique. My oldest child is special needs. I was teaching the world how to treat him. I wasn't wondering how to raise my normal child. I was wondering how to protect my special one. Then we have a second child, and he is raised from birth, realizing that his brother is different and learning how to deal with him just like we do. So tell me, someone tell me. Why do they do it? Is there some natural urge to seek out and prey upon weakness? To press vulnerability? Does it really make their day to send the weird kid into the girl's bathroom when it's full of girls? Do they go home proud of themselves, patting each other on the back over how cool they are? Someone please, tell me what it is. Do they and their parents really think that my son is any less a person than they are, that he is less loved, less important, less intelligent, less able to contribute to society, that he is less anything that is positive and good? The only thing that he is really less is less cruel, less dispassionate, less hateful and less harmful. Please teach your kids how to be compassionate with those that are different. After all, are we not all different? We all have vulnerabilities and quirks. If a society makes it acceptable to victimize the citizens that are most vulnerable, then I cannot be a part of society. Since William's diagnosis almost 9 years ago, I have slowly backed away from society. Some of it is because his behavior in public can make him difficult to handle. But I have come to realize that a lot of the reason for my withdrawal is because the behavior of society is difficult to handle. If you see a special needs child behaving strangely in public, please try to remember that you are not at the zoo. Many special needs children look normal but act strangely. If you see a child acting strangely, even behaving abominably, please don't start whispering behind your hands about how you would handle that kid if he were yours. If he were yours, you would understand. It may or may not be a special needs child that you are looking at, but the point is that you don't know. End of rant.

KIDS TODAY!

Usually I get on here if I have some story that's cute or funny or touching to share. Today I just don't feel that way. I wish I had a way of yelling at the world, and this is the closest I can come. I have a kid who repeats everything he hears, and also repeats actions that he sees, because he doesn't know any better. So think about that when you are out in public and are loudly exercising your right to free speech frequently punctuated with completely unnecessary profanity. Look around you and think about who might be listening. A week or so ago, my 11 year old son asked me, "Mom, what does f**k mean?" After my husband had revived me with our home defibrillator, I had to explain to William, who has the maturity of a five year old, that this is the worst of all the bad words and that he must never say it again. I have tried every which way to explain WHY I don't want him using profanity, and after every session, I can see that he absolutely does not understand. I used to hear disabled young adults and even disabled kids using bad language all the time, and I was so haughty! "Well! They must hear it at home! How else could they pick it up?" Now I know! We do NOT use it, at all. In fact, if you come into my home and use that kind of language, I will send you out the front door on the business end of a cannon. I try to moniter what they hear online and on TV. It may be naive, but I want them to be innocent for as long as possible. Desensitize them to it now, and they will find it as acceptable as many people do. And when we do hear it, they ask me, "Mom, was that a bad word? Is it wrong to say that word?" So at least we do talk about it. And now when they hear a bad word off the TV or something, they both look a little worried and sad and seem concerned for the person who said the bad word, especially William. Almost everyday after school, I take both boys to either the playground at William's school, or the one at Sean's school. Since the weather is nicer, we frequently have older kids from the nearby Jr High and High School who come and seem to be there for no other reason than to just hang around and be offensive. A couple of weeks ago I had to chase off 2 boys, one of whom was exposing himself and both were using lewd and offensive language. All while surrounded by kids Sean's age (6). Today on William's school playground, were 2 girls and a boy, Jr. High age, who were fooling around. The 2 girls were trying to get the boy's pants off. 10 feet from me. I ran them off pretty quick too. In both instances, these kids looked at me like I was an alien from another planet. Now I know I don't really look that bad, so I could only assume that their experience with adult discipline is limited. None of them mouthed off at me, I have to give them that. But I think it was only bercause they were shocked that someone had said something to them. I bring this up only because I hope people will read it and think about what they say and do, and also because I hope they will all talk to their kids, know what they are doing after school and who they are doing it with, and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!! How would you feel if you found out your son was exposing himself on a school playground in front of 10 elementary school children? Or if your daughter was giggling over a boy on the ground getting into his pants? What would you do? If adults were caught doing what these kids were doing, they would be arrested and become registered sex offenders. Your thirteen year old doesn't need a boyfriend or a girlfriend. They're physically old enough, but mentally they aren't old enough to make mature decisions. They're STUPID!! They need you!

Great Danes

I have decided that when my book is finally published, I'm going to donate a portion of the proceeds to a Great Dane rescue organization. One of my main characters is a Great Dane, after all. When I was 9 or 10 years old, my Aunt had a friend who was involved with a Great Dane rescue. My Aunt had already adopted 2 Great Danes and when this woman contacted her about one more, my Aunt called my Mom. My older sister wanted that dog. And so we got him. He was about 2 years old and had been found wandering the streets, terrified. He was wearing a choke collar that was so tight it had become embedded in his neck and had to be removed surgically. He wore forever a scar that was in the shape of a chain, the ghost of a noose. My sister Jody thought carefully about the name for him. She searched through some history book or other and found some ancient German character by the name of Johann Heindrich Von Daniker, and that was his new moniker. A big dog like that, after all, needed a big name. Below is a picture of a scupture entitled Ariadne On the Panther, by Johann Heinrich Von Danneker.

I wish I had a picture to post of our Johann. He was a Merle, black and grey. And he was a big one. When they stood him on his two hind legs, they measured him at 6'2". He was the sweetest, gentlest thing this side of heaven. I had a dog too, a little female dachshund, also a rescue dog (that is another story). Her name was Jaime and she may have been small, but she was full of vinegar. For whatever reason, Johann quickly took over the job as her protector-and her employee. Maybe he figured she was such a nasty little thing, she might just need him someday. There was a time when you could get big bones free at the grocery store and we used to give him a cow's thigh bone whenever we could get it. Once when she wasn't even full grown, she took that bone away from him and it took her about an hour to drag it from where he had it to the living room, where she wanted it. He followed slowly and mournfully after her, wondering whether he would ever get it back. That's just how he was. He wished she wouldn't take his stuff, but he wouldn't stop her, either. He didn't bother the cats that I remember, but Jaime was the only other dog he ever liked. We had a couple of male barn dogs outside and had to make sure he never got near them. Once two big dogs start fighting, it's very hard to get them apart. But we made it. He was the big protector of and loyal family member to all of us. We had him for several years. There are certain problems that tend to beset Great Danes and he was no exception. Danes of his type are prone to all kinds of difficulties, one of them being serious joint problems. The size of their large bodies is too much for their joints to handle after a time. I believe he started with having difficulty just walking. His legs could give out suddenly and he would lose his balance and sometimes he fell. Trips to the vet got him shots that would get him through until the next time. I don't know now what they gave him-it might have been steroids. If anyone knows different, please comment! When he got towards the end, he was more and more disabled. He often couldn't even get up, and when he did, being able to walk without falling was hit and miss. Every few months my parents would take him to the vet with the intention of putting him to sleep. They'd get there, get him the shot, and bring him back home. And he'd be better again for a little while, until next time. Then one time in November of 1983, they came back without him. I'm not really sure what it was that made me decide to make the dog in my story a Great Dane. Maybe one of the sweetest personalities I have ever known was whispering in my ear, prompting me, making me remember. He was not a demanding dog and a whispered suggestion would have suited him just fine. Someday I would like to have a Great Dane, but right now we just don't have the yard. I also have a little autistic son who has a phobia of dogs. He is used to my two little terriers but they are not allowed to touch him. I don't think he could live with such a large dog. So I thought, if I can't adopt and help one dog, maybe I can help many instead.

The Timeline

Recently I saw on a friend's facebook page some information about a local author. I thought, "Ah, that's interesting," and I clicked to head to that author's facebook page. Now, I'm not sure if there might actually be something wrong with me, but when I hit someone's facebook "timeline" I am immediately lost. I do think the timeline looks kind of cool, but even when I go to my own timline, I usually can't find whatever I'm looking for.
It reminds me of that scene in "A Bug's Life" when the line of ants runs into a leaf and can't go forward because they don't know how to go around it. Panic sets in and an older, more experienced ant steps in and walks them through it. Trouble with the timeline is, it's new to all of us. There is no experienced older ant that I can turn to for help.
Sooo, I didn't get far on that author's page. To me, it was a crazy quilt jumble of disconnected information. I can't help it, I have to have things set up in black and white, clear cut. Someday when I may have a book published, I want people to go to whatever page I might create, and I really hope it will make sense to them. Social networking is really a great thing-I think it's fabulous! I can't wait until I have a book to advertise-but I promise-you come to my page, you won't feel like you have just walked into Harry Potter's maze.

This post has nothing whatever to do with being an author. Just with being a human being. I get sinus infections which give me sinus headaches which more often than not turn into rampaging migraine headaches. I have been having this issue lately, more serious than usual, and today finally got myself to the doc. She decided to save herself some trouble and gave me a prescription for antibiotics with 6 refills. I do, after all, know better than she does when I have a sinus infection. I actually felt a little better today, after a killer week. When the headache decides to go off on it's own for a while (I wonder what it does?) I talk about it in hushed whispers, afraid it will hear me and come rushing back with a vengeance. It's crazy, but I think of it as a live, malevolent thing that haunts me. I don't say, "I have another headache." I say, "The headache is back." Because I know-I KNOW it's the same one,coming back, over and over. I was just thinking today, I should give it a name. And the moment I had that thought, the headache answered me. "We are called Legion," it said. I looked around for a herd of swine, but no, I couldn't do that. I wouldn't wish this thing on anyone, even though their time of pain would be short, since they would run, in their madness, off the nearest cliff.
A few years ago, I had the sinus surgery, which everyone raved about. I was told I would have no more problems once it was done. Weeeell, you ever see those old sci fi movies from the fifties? You know the ones, where some idiotic greedy miners just dig TOO deep and accidentally unleash some hundred thousand year old behemoth that has been trapped and biding it's time while feeding on man-made radiation? That's what that surgery did for me. I have wondered ever since, "What have I done?" Before that, The Headache was just a thing that bugged me sometimes but wasn't angry with me about anything. It thought he and I were in the same boat. Then I tried to anhiliate and drive it out of it's nice little home. I made an enemy out of it. I have tried to tell it many times, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Doesn't work.
And so, I live in hope that the antibiotics, and the super powerful pain pills and the nasal spray will weaken it and drive it back into it's hole, somewhere in the center of my head. We'll see.

Well, I'm giving my manuscript at least one more go through (I cannot stand spelling or other errors), and then at the end of this week I am sending the whole thing off to the publisher of my choice, Deseret Book. One of the nice things about them is that they do not require a query letter. You can just send them the whole thing, and when they get to it, they'll go over it and either accept or reject you. I did write a fine cover letter, if I do say so myself.

Another thing that will be good with them, if I can get through the door, is that they will be good for vetting me. Deseret Book is an LDS Church publisher. My manuscript does contain characters who are LDS and non-LDS, and if I need any help dealing with those differences, I know they can do that and keep me pointed in the right direction. I also know them to be a company of integrity who won't do me over in any way. If Deseret Book itself is not especially interested in me, they might just send me on through to one of their other companies, like Shadow Mountain or Bookcraft. Or, they might say, "sorry, not interested at this time." If they do that, I have decided to do the free publishing with Amazon. I don't think I can trust mainstream publishers with this one, just because of the LDS angle. I don't want it in non-Church hands, at least not until I have more confidence in my own ability to keep control of things.

It will take them 3 months, probably to get back to me. I'll let ya know what happens.

These pictures are of the Erie canal as seen from the small village of Medina in Western New York. I thank Mike Bukiewicz and Peggy Silkowski for these gorgeous shots. Now, I ask you-who could live in a place like this and not be inspired in some way? Recently while living in Medina again, the town where I grew up, I got some inspiration of my own. I wanted to write a book, and I wanted it set here. Now it's written and I'm trying to decide what to do next. I become more convinced every day that self publishing is not an option to be ashamed of. I have talked to successful self published authors who say they would not change a thing, will continue to self publish, even though they now have offers from mainstream publishers. It's still up in the air for me. I'm trying to be patient, but at other times, I think, "Why wait?" There are, however, a lot of pitfalls that a professional editor and publisher will get you over. Self publishing, you're a bit more on your own.

I'm LDS. That means "I'm a Mormon". Especially with Mitt Romney's recent bid for President, there have been a lot of questions floating around out there about those peculiar Mormons. Along with that have been an awful lot of people who just don't like Mormons and who think they know things that they actually don't know. I want people to know that it's okay to ask those questions. We want to answer them! And I decided that I wanted to write a story that would appeal to many different people-not just Mormons, or non-Mormons, or dog lovers, or people from Western New York. I wanted to reach out to all of those people, as well as anyone else who might just want to jump on and go for a ride. I'm going to try and create a brief synopsis of my book, and maybe some of you will tell me what you think. Would you read this?

Ann Bixby was born and raised as an only child in a small village on the banks of the Erie Canal. When she was 15 years old, the unthinkable happened. Her mother died. Having been raised a devout Mormon, she knew that she and her father would see her mother again-because they know that families are meant to be together forever. After a year of unspeakable loneliness, however, her father decides that living in that town without his beloved wife was more than he could bear. He takes his teen aged daughter and goes to live in Eastern Oregon, where he had a sister.

And so they moved to an even smaller town than the one they left. Ann thought it was at least "a thousand miles from anywhere". After she had graduated high school, she thought briefly of going off to college, but quickly dismissed the idea of leaving her lonely father even more alone. They lived there for more than ten years.

Grief struck again. Walter Bixby had joined his wife on the other side. Their daughter, now 27 and alone, had to make a decision. Would she stay, or would she go? And if she went, where?

(And that, folks, is just background!!) The actual book begins at this point.

Well, you guessed it-she moves, back home. Her best friend, who was more like a sister growing up, is Kell Harris. Kell and her family still live back in Charlestown, NY (the name I chose for my fictional Medina-I named it after my ancestor, Charles Hecox). The Harris family are a mixed race, African American-Caucasion family and are also LDS. They are like a second set of parents to the tall, quirky, unpretentious Ann. During the process of looking for a place to live, Ann comes across a fellow orphan. She knows immediately that taking him in is the right thing to do. His name is Henry. He is two years old. He weighs 200 pounds. He is a Great Dane. She has never had a dog. She has never had so much as a hamster in her life. But doing the right thing comes naturally to her and she knows that he needs her.

A dog that big needs a lot of walking, and she spends much of her time doing just that. Thanks to these walks, she meets people she never would have met, people that become as dear and dearer than anyone she has ever had in her life. Representing those that become dear are Mr. and Mrs. Tom Tipple. Tom is a Person of Short Stature who amuses himself by walking about town dressed as an elf during the Christmas season, and who dresses as a large garden gnome during the spring and summer months. Ann mistakes him for an actual statue and almost has heart failure when he speaks to her. For more about the Tipples, read the book.

Ann buys a house, and one day while out walking, she meets, unbeknownst to her, the town hermit. He doesn't look like a hermit to her. To her, he looks like a male cover model. That's how he looks to everyone else, too, but he isn't aware of it and wouldn't care anyway. His name is Kyle Mendez and he has had enough of people. He is corrosive, off-putting, large and intimidating. He tells her, "I stay away from people. I don't know what they think. I don't care what they think. I don't ask them what they think and they don't tell me what they think." Ann is the first person in a long time who will look him straight in the eye and tell him exactly what she thinks. He knew the first time he saw her, she was different. She didn't know he was a hermit and she wasn't about to let him be one. She begins slowly drawing him out and he can't help but go with her. The story of his past peels back like the layers of an onion, and brings as many tears. Slowly she shows him how to forgive, how to love, and how to live again. She also introduces him to something he never would have predicted would interest him-the Mormon Church.

She gives him the gift of something he had long forgotten-joy.

So---would you read it?? Or could you barely get through these few paragraphs?