1980s, Addictions, Depression, Domestic violence, Dyslexia, Human Behaviour, Human Nature, Humanity, Learning disabilities, mental illness, Publishing joys

A Library Refuses to Promote a Novel Launch? Really?

Everyone profits from sales. Church events, yard sales, book sales etcetera.

What exactly is non profit? What is 100 percent profit free? I could sell my books and give all the proceeds from my launch sales to a charity. All of it And that’s just what I would have to do to put up ads for my launch at my local library, despite years of never ending work, education, searches for the right publisher, paying for edits working through daylight and holidays. You write, you know what I’m saying.
Over the phone speaking with someone from the library, I heard this, “I’m sorry, any ad space we have goes to 100% non profit events.”

This reminds me of school when my memories dissect it. Beginning young when I got  a handle on reading and writing while struggling with dyslexia, which had no diagnosis until my adult years, I wrote poetry, the best way I knew how. My soul expressed me. This took the place of math. My entire notebook carried words rather than mathematical equations with worked-out answers. When it came time to hand in the notebook, my parents were called to the office. Long story short, my writing ability was not fostered. No mention of creative writing classes, no mention of a budding talent. Just old-school discipline and I went under the thumb of rules.

So my point is, in my middle age, haunting rules ironically surfaced. A library wouldn’t let me promote my novel. The very place I thought would be the first to help me.

Sometimes a person needs to vent, so I am doing just that. I wrote my novel, They All Wore Black, during a bleak time. It’s loosely based on truth, and the truth involves many people and four relevant-to-today circumstances: addictions, mental illness, domestic violence, and learning disabilities.  The contemporary drama is heart-wrenching, joyful, humoured with dark splashes, and most of all, realism.

“All families come with skeletons in their closet, but not all family skeletons come with a bottle, bruises, busted fingers, fear, hate, broken spirits and shameful secrets. It’s 1988, the Faddens are left to sort out the father’s death. Brad, Kelly and their mom must come to grips with the horrific impact of his deceptive life.”

Print version is available on Amazon, they’ll send when they’re stocked, ebook is available now.  Just punch in the title if you’re interested.

Visit me here: https//www.facebook.com/PennersPen88/


The library can’t share this, but I can, and you may if you’re so inclined.

Thanks for reading.

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1980s, Hearing problems, technology

Is it Just Me?

I think the flat calls started in the nineties. Newer, thinner, flatter, and cheaper phones took over from those receivers that hugged the ear, directing the sound of a voice right into the ear. The ringer was adjustable, and the curly cord was useful for winding onto the fist for tense calls or just because nothing felt as neat as puling that cord until it was straight. As time passed, Ma Bell didn’t even rent phones anymore. Anyone could go to the local Walmart and buy one, or a person could get a two-for deal, perhaps three if there are three places to put phones. The features on these new landline phones proved excellent, especially the caller ID and video, plus, plus, plus etc. But the receivers are almost perfectly flat. And we use cells mostly now, so I highly doubt a phone will be anything but flat forevermore. This is progressive technology.

Cells are the thing now, of course. Portable and thin, pretty much weightless. Blue tooth in vehicles, so honest to God, no one needs to miss a call now. But back to the point here: phones are flat. If I’m on my cell and there’s background noise, I can’t hear who I’m talking to; not without making a face, you know, the face like there’s great and sudden pain in the eye or tooth. One eye all winked shut, mouth looks like I’m chewing grizzle as I press that thing to my face. Maybe it’s just my antique Blueberry phone. Maybe it’s everyone’s cell phone or fancy landline phone. Flat. Hard to hear sometimes. Is it just me?

I won’t keep you long. I just want to make my point, which is, in the photo I’m showing you this gadget someone should get massive credit for. I must google it and see if I can send an email of undiluted praise. I found it in a thrift shop. My hubby was with me, so I called his cell. Well, well, look at that. It works. I wiped it down with alcohol and I’m back in the curly cord eighties, only with my ancient Blueberry cell connected. I love it. And yes, ladies and gentlemen, it has the volume control on the side.

Just one itty bitty thing, though. Since I’m an original sixties human myself, I’m trained to hang up a “phone off the hook” as we called it. So I see my eighties receiver on the end table and it sucks me in every time, just for a second, but still— somebody’s gotta hang up that phone.

Thanks for reading.

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