Outside my comfort zone by J. S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

What I’ll say next might surprise some people, but by nature, I am in introvert person. I don’t like crowds and I’m not comfortable speaking in public. When my publisher suggested I do a book signing for Voted Out at the local bookstore, I said, “Sure. Sounds like fun.” But deep down, I was scared. So I met with the manager, a wonderful lady named Jackie, a few months ago, and the first thing we did was to select a date. We picked last weekend Saturday March 24^th—as you can see I survived.

 

She ordered my books, which arrived in time for the signing, and told me she might be able to  arrange for an interview with the local newspaper and radio station. Again, I said, “Sure. Sounds like fun.” But deep down, I wasn’t just scared, I was now scared out of my wits. Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans...they can go south in a heartbeat. An emergence arose for which I had to fly south on March 12^th and I wasn’t scheduled to fly back home until March 23^rd around suppertime. Then my returning flight was cancelled and I was re-booked on a later flight arriving at 11pm on the 23^rd amid the forecast of a snowstorm. The interviews never happened, but now I was terrified of missing my own book signing. Talk about irony!

Before I left, I had dropped posters at the bookstore so they could advertise the signing, and while I was gone I took care of some details. I had my nails done in romantic-murder-mystery theme, I got a sticky nametag with my name & logo, and I bought chocolate eggs for treats. I took all of these to the store along with business cards and novelty pens (pink, purple, and blue).

During the signing I was told it might help if I mingle with the customers, so lots of...Hello. How are you? What are you looking for? What do you like to read? Well, unless I was standing near my table, my nice nametag with my author name on it was mistaken for an employee tag. I received lots of requests for books and authors I had never heard of, but it also allowed me to suggest my book on a few occasions, and when I added I would also gladly sign it for them, they stared at me with a 'deer in headlights' look before asking, “You’re the author?” Then we would chat about everything, including my hair. Actually, many encounters started with a comment about my purple and blue hair. One lady even asked me to sign her book with the three pens so it would look like my hair. I wrote a lovely thank you for coming and nice chatting with you note inside her book, and each word was written in a different color. I regret not taking a picture...

90% of the people I met that day were strangers and I had an amazing time interacting with them. I was uncomfortable at first, but it got easier as the day when by. Some people came to chat without buying anything, some came to buy without chatting, and some came to chat and buy something. I was delighted to talk to all of them and I want to thank them all for coming and taking a few minutes to brighten my day.  It was so interesting and I had so much fun that I now wonder why on earth I was so scared.

See you next time!

JS

Note: I would also like to thank Jackie, Sarah, and all the staff at Coles in Fort McMurray for hosting my book signing. I couldn’t have done it without you!

 J. S. Marlo's Website

I Wish I'd Taken A Parenting Class By Sandy Semerad

A woman handed me a flier with the headline, “May is for Mom’s.” It advertised a class for parents, “who desire a healthy future for their children.”

I wish I’d taken this class when my daughters were babies. My main source of instruction came from Dr. Benjamin Spock’s Baby and Child Care.

I have made plenty of parenting mistakes, no doubt. A major boo-boo was trying to raise my daughters differently from how I’d been brought up.

Looking back now, I’m grateful for my upbringing, although I deeply regret losing my dad when I was seven. A heart attack killed him.

After Dad died, I worried about Mom. Alice Larson Hodges was eccentric and talented, adventuresome and unpredictable.

She paraded around Geneva, Alabama in bright clothes, big hats and jewelry. “Gossips be damned.”

She wore loud bracelets. They clanged as she played the piano at the First Baptist church. She often sang louder than the choir.

 She took me and my sister out of school in the middle of the year and drove to New Mexico from Alabama to see the Caverns in New Mexico. During the summer, she stuck us in camp while she studied art.

She was the oldest daughter of Norwegian immigrants and once told me she married Daddy because he promised to buy her a piano and teach her to drive. After Daddy died, she never married again.

She loved water and painted beautiful pictures of water, but never learned to swim. Yet, she encouraged me and Alice Kay to become good swimmers.

She raised two daughters alone while preaching: “Cleanliness is next to Godliness. A stitch in time saves nine. Early to bed, early to rise, makes a woman health wealthy and wise. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. You won’t like most of what you do every day, but if you do one thing you like, you should be happy.”

She seemed fearless.

She single handedly drove us to New York City to see the musical “My Fair Lady.” During our trip, we toured the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty.

When we arrived in New York, in the middle of the night, Alice Kay and I were asleep in the back seat. At the Brooklyn Bridge, she awakened us, shouting, “Wake up, girls, New York City.”

I could go on and on about her. How she filmed us as if we were movie stars. Thank God, we were able to salvage the rolls of film.

Alice Kay had some of the film spliced together, chronicling our lives as children, teenagers, young adults and mothers. In the beginning of the video, Mother is young and beautiful, smiling for the camera. My father is dapper and handsome, puffing on a cigarette.

One thing’s for sure, Mother never failed to surprise me. She seemed to embrace spontaneity.

I’m a little spontaneous, too, along with having a highly developed imagination. I escaped reality by making up stories in my head, which eventually culminated in writing novels. But the novel writing began years after she suffered a stroke and was in a coma.

The doctors offered little hope of her recovery. Refusing to accept this diagnosis, I kept talking to her.

She eventually opened her eyes and said, “I’m so proud of you.”

Mother is no longer on this earth, but I feel her spirit every day, and I know she did her best, without the benefit of child-rearing classes.

And I’m grateful I had an exciting mother. She taught me, by example, how to live outside my comfort zone. I might not have learned to take risks if Mother had been overprotective and fearful.

I never doubted her love, although she seldom said the words, I love you. I suppose that’s why I never miss an opportunity to tell my daughters, Rene and Andrea, and granddaughter Cody how much I love them and how proud I am of them. They’re extraordinary, despite my lack of parenting lessons.

For more information, visit my website: Sandy Semerad 

And here's my latest novel, A MESSAGE IN THE ROSES, only .99 today:

A Message in the Roses