Lookin' out my back door

Moonlight and Roses

2012-02-09T05:14:00.000-08:00

I went out to my sister's at Lake Arrowhead last night and upon leaving, the full moon lighted my way back to the car. It was stunning as always when its still low in the sky. With Valentines Day strong on my mind, I remembered an old Jim Reeves song, "Moonlight and Roses ... bring wonderful memories of you." I went in search of the song but Itunes only listed Karoke versions and one by someone else. It was late so that was as far as I went. I know my kids will find it and send it to me before Valentines Day get here.

On the last Valentine's Day that Ronnie worked at PPG, I decided to send him a snack basket. We had a huge heart shaped balloon that, when tapped, it played "I Wanta Hold Your Hand." I bought a boat load of snacks and put them into a big basket, wrapped it up and was going to have the delivery man take it out to PPG, then I remembered Ronnie saying that anything edible that came into the breakroom seemed to be a gift to all. Even though I knew he didn't need to eat all those snacks himself, I didn't want anyone to ruin the moment for him. He was working the evening shift, so when I got off work, I drove out there and put the basket with the balloon tied to it inside his pickup, then I went home to wait.

He came in about twelve thirty grinning from ear to ear. He said when he opened the door of his truck, the balloon floated toward him and he thought he had an intruder so he punched it and it started screaming "I wanta hold your hand!"

We laughed about that everytime we thought about it. And he loved it. He loved it when I made him know he was special to me -- and he was very special to me.

2012-02-08T05:34:00.000-08:00

As I begin this brand new day, my dominant intent is to feel good. Nothing is more important or more essential to my wellbeing than that I look for that which pleases me. So, today, regardless of where I am, what I'm doing or who is with me, I will look for that which pleases me. I will give others the benefit of the doubt because I want everyone to thrive and flourish and I know no one wishes anything for me but the best.

The hip pain is gone. I knew if the flooring work could smooth out so would my level of happiness and the aggravating discomfort would dissipate. It's like my foundation is sturdy again. I can not express how wonderful it feels to walk in there, and have a solid floor beneath my feet.

Two days ago, I was thinking about selling the house and renting an apartment to get away from this but today I feel totally different. I have brand new windows and a brand new central heating and cooling system -- and now I can see that soon, I'm going to have new floors and that everything eventually will be put back in place and I can spread out in my own space. I'll be able to sit at my desk with my brand new Mac computer and look out at my back yard, which gives me about the same view as looking out my back door.

That deep inside sadness returned sometime last week -- probably partly due to my house being in such a mess, but today, it's gone again.

Today I get to go to work and help get ready for Valentines Day. Dan the Handy Man is supposed to pick up the flooring I bought yesterday. Life is good and it is supposed to be enjoyable, so let's get on with it.

What does Happy Feel Like

2012-02-01T18:42:00.000-08:00

As I begin this brand new day, my dominant intent is to be happy. Nothing is more important or more essential to my well-being than that I look for that which pleases me, that I find fun, interesting, joyful things to think about and talk about. So today, regardless of where I am, what I'm doing or who is with me, I will focus on the things around me that please me. In other words, I'm gonna get happy – in every way I can.

So what does happy feel like on a day to day, minute by minute basis? Probably more pleased than displeased, more satisfied than aggravated. Happy might come when you feel the relief of letting go of or giving up a struggle that seems hopeless and has seemed so for quite a while. You might feel it when you make the decision to stop worrying about anything and everything, when you finally say, "That's it. That's all I can do," or "This problem really doesn't belong to me, so why am I stressing out about it?"

Happy could be playing with a pet, your child or grandchild. It can be seeing new growth on a favorite plant in the window, seeing a good mood smile on the face of a loved one. Happy comes in fleeting moments that we often don't notice or stop to appreciate.

For me it's when I see the daffodils and iris come up in my flowerbeds after a deep freeze of a winter. It comes when I see that my gold fish and koi are still alive in my pond after having a sheet of ice over it for several days. It happens when a sweet fragrance comes to me from the flowers in the cooler every day, or from clean towels or sheets.

I feel happy when I have a fresh package of paper, a page of postage stamps, or a new notebook to write in. I feel it when I have a stretch of time that isn't already obligated to something else. I feel it every time I sell a book, every time I pull up and stop in my driveway and see my house waiting for me to come inside. I feel it every morning when I smell the fresh coffee brewing, when I watch the sun come up through my beautiful new windows and when I watch the sun set, painting the sky in pinks and lavenders.

I feel happy when I walk into my bedroom and see that I made the bed earlier.

I feel happiness when I get animal pictures via email. I feel it when I see the cute faces of teddy bears and other stuffed animals.

Happy feels like seeing my children, my grandchildren and old friends. It's seeing their name come up on my cell phone. It's finding those sturdy paper coffee cups that come with clamp on lids in a stack of ten for a dollar. It's cold wind blowing on my face when I'm having a hot flash. It's having a hot flash when I'm cold.

We humans have a tendency to consider happiness as a long term situation, sometimes even a future goal and in doing that, we minimize the importance of or completely ignore these momentary bits of joy that can occur hundreds of times a day—if we're paying attention. Life is now. This moment right now is the only guaranteed time we have, so why spend it agonizing about current events over which you have little or no control? Look for the things that please you. You'll be surprised how many different things in life will make you smile. You might be surprised at how much better you'll feel about a whole bunch of stuff when you "get happy -- in every way you can".

Like a Sunrise

2012-01-19T17:18:00.000-08:00

I've referred often on this blog to the invasive grief I've been dealing with ever since Ronnie was diagnosed. Looking back at what I've written during those dark months, I realized that even when I didn't mention it, the over all mood of most my posts was sad.

I had a conversation with my cousin about memories and grief. He pointed out how grief changes the way we feel about our memories and as we heal we reconnect with our memories and are more able to enjoy them.

The philosophy I subscribe to says that we create and attract what we live through our emotional vibrational output. According to this line of thought, what goes around really does come back around, but it isn't due to Karma, but to the simple law of attraction -- that which is similar is drawn.

It also says that the Universe doesn't detect any difference in the emotional vibrational output of what we feel and what we pretend we feel -- so it's imperative during dark moments and times to spend a few minutes each day "pretending" or "daydreaming" about better times to come.

So knowing this, I have been fairly dedicated to getting up each morning and counting my blessings and pretending that I feel good, telling myself I am healthy and that all is well, life is good. This philosophy promises that if you can do this every day for thirty days, you'll start seeing the benefits of it.

I got up early on my day off, Tuesday, because my friend Monica was coming for coffee. Then I was going to run down to Mineral Wells to see Deidre, Seth, and my boys, Ronnie and Cuddles. Sitting on my bed, writing out my blessings, I felt different than usual, not down looking for an up. After closer examination, I realized that the sadness is gone. I can feel the joy in my heart again.

I'm not saying that I'm "over" or "through" the grieving process, or that I won't have sadness again, because there is so much about Ronnie's passing that I can't deal with yet, but feeling the way I do right now assures me that I will feel better all the time -- soon.

For the first time since August 18, 2010, I know I'm going to be okay.

"Like a roller in the ocean, Life is motion ...Like a wind that's always blowing, life is flowing ... Like a sunrise in the morning, life is dawning ... How I treasure every minute, being part of it, being in it, with the urge to move on..." Abba

More Changes

2012-01-12T14:54:00.000-08:00

It's nearly nine pm. It's cold outside. Sitting here, looking out my beautiful new window, I can see many things: the street light at the corner of University and Woodlawn, silhouettes of trees, a tractor seat and a rusty old tricycle that sit out by my pond. The antique pole lamp that Ronnie put next to the pigeon pen reflects on the Coca Cola button inside the fly area. My beautiful sweet Shelbie walks under the light waving her tail gently like a peace flag.

I can also see myself sitting here at the computer. This reflection isn't as clear as a mirror image, and in it, I don't look as old as a mirror says I am.

More major changes are coming, so I hope the image in my window is more accurate than a mirror.

Deidre is changing careers completely, moving to Mineral Wells -- and taking my Seth Ryan Pruett with her. She's excited -- and scared. She has lived in other cities before -- Dallas, Ft. Walton Beach, Boston, Atlanta, but she didn't have Seth. She's lived with me since before Ronnie got sick, and we help each other through every day. Living a day to day life without me to help with Seth will be a learning experience for her. Living a day to day life now without her will be a learning experience for me.

She and Seth will be moving to a much smaller city, which will be different. Deidre has never experienced Small Town USA. Fortunately, her new boss said Deidre will be in frequent contact with the agencies that oversee childcare facilities and so should be able to find a good daycare for Seth.

When they are gone, I'll try to recapture how much I loved having time to myself. I'll take my dogs for a walk and eat when I'm ready. I'll get up early in the mornings to a quiet house that encourages the writing of good stories and interesting blog posts. I'll play with my birds and invite friends over for coffee or a glass of tea. I'll sit for long whiles and watch the activity of the squirrels and birds out my back door. I'll go to work and come home to a quiet house that looks just like it did when I left that morning. Maybe I'll be able to use this time to learn how to market my books effectively. Come springtime, I'll have plenty to keep my mind occupied with the yard and the pond and the pigeons and dogs, cat and birds. Life is good now and even when I'm alone, it will be different but it will be good, too. And I'll go visit. Deidre and Seth will only be two hours away. I figure if I leave Wichita Falls immediately after work, I'll be there by six thirty, visit until nine or so and be home around eleven.

I will miss having them here. I will miss hearing that sweetest voice coming through the dark house early in the morning -- "Neeenaw!" and the giggling and the patter of his feet as he runs from one location to another. I'll miss seeing his expressions when I show up to get him at day care and his enthusiasm when he realizes I brought him something to drink. I'll miss seeing "his moves" when the dance music starts.

And I'll miss my "handy wo-man". Deidre has been fixing everything that goes wrong since Ronnie passed on.

I'll miss the laughter that happens just because she is present. She has such a broad sense of humor. I'll miss knowing that if I start feeling down, all I have to do is go into the next room.

This list could go on and on because there are a million things I love and appreciate about her and having her living with me -- but, on the other hand, my job as a parent has been to teach my kids to take care of themselves. So, I have to encourage her to move on. The Times Record News is a memory. This new position is the future.

2012-01-07T06:27:00.000-08:00

Feeling down sucks. I'm not a newcomer to the philosophy that the Universe responds to our vibrational output, that high spirits means good stuff is coming my way and low spirits means bad stuff is in the making. In other words, if I can't get my mood back up into the "happy/satisfied/content, more pleased than displeased range", my bedroom floor really might dump me and the computer on the ground.

So in this line of thought, it's not in my best interest to allow this invasive sadness to continue. Most people will tell me it hasn't been long enough for me to expect to feel good and this is part of the grieving process.

What do I have to be sad about? Ronnie passed away but I'm still here, trying to make the best of it, trying to figure out how to, not just live alone, but how to live without him.. I miss him. I think about him all the time - as I'm sure you've noticed if you read this blog very often.

Other than that, what do I have to be sad about?

Nothing. In fact, my blessings are too many to count every day.

I'm healthy. All my kids are healthy. My grandchildren are all healthy, happy youngsters who have loving supportive parents. Seth Ryan Pruett is turning two Saturday. I cleaned up Ronnie's Shop, strung some "party lights" around, made sure all the neon signs work, and made favor bags for the 10 -15 kiddoes that we invited to come and ride real ponies from "Ponies2You". Deidre even found some age appropriate music to play. I lined all Seth's riding toys up in the back yard to help amuse our young guests until it's their turn to ride a pony.

I have a fun job. I have good, interesting people to work with. The Florist has orders for big parties coming up in January and Valentines' Day in February. Both events are always exciting because we get so many new and different flowers to use. There are always a lot of folks stopping by to visit. There is always a lot of laughter every day.

My friend Monica, introduced me to her brother, Ed. He does floors. Hopefully soon, he'll be able to get an estimate to me, and we can get started on this.

I've also talked to Jimmy, who is an electrician and maintenence for my sister's apartment complex. He's going to change this stupid recessed lighting in my kitchen and bedrooms to regular fixtures.

I'm slowly but surely getting the clutter cleared out of the house. That always makes me feel good. Deidre got ALL the laundry done and cleaned up the garage.

I have a writer's retreat at the Quartz Mountain Resort at the end of this month and the Oklahoma Writer's Federation Conference in May to look forward to.

I have lots of Dutch Iris foilage coming up and that should mean I'll have blooms. The daffodils are up. Even the ones I just got back into the ground are showing signs of life. The bunches of ground cover that I transplanted in the bare spots on the south end of the house are still looking perky so there's hope there too.

Yesterday, I went to Harris Nursery and bought 3 flats of multicolored violas and some more kale (all on sale) all of which I hope to get planted today. Most of it will go out front because the lawn looks awful. I'm getting the weeds out but sometimes, I think the weeds looked better than that bare ground. The flowers will add some color and make it look like someone cares again.

I have a new year ahead of me. Spring is not too far around the corner, the time for re-newal, the time for a fresh start.

The Bruno - Selder Christmas 2011

2011-12-25T16:58:00.000-08:00

This was Peggy's gift. Awesome, isn't it?

More Christmas memories

2011-12-24T09:58:00.000-08:00

When I was a girl, my mother insisted my sister, Peggy, and I save our 25 cents a week allowance all through November until Christmas to buy presents for our family. We had to buy something for Mama, Daddy, Aunt Gladys and Uncle Alley, and each other.

My best Christmas ever, I got a dress, and a book of poems from Mama and Daddy and from Peggy, I got Bay Lady and her two foals. Bay Lady cost $2.50 so I was the only one who got a present from Peggy -- at least out of Peggy's own hard earned cash. Mama told me later that Peggy wanted me to have the ceramic horses so bad that Mama agreed to her spending all her money on me.

I've never been able to equal that gift in what I give to Peggy, until this year. I checked this thing out with both my kids and they said "That is sooo Peggy," so I bought it. The highlight of my Christmas will be seeing her reaction to this long in coming gift. I hope she loves it as much as I loved Bay Lady and her two foals -- and if she doesn't she can take it back, but I'm thinking she'll love it. Merry Christmas, Sister.

I'll post a picture of it tomorrow.

Christmas Memories

2011-12-24T07:50:00.000-08:00

I try not to spend a lot of time in the past, but sometimes something simple sparks memories. This morning I "commented" on Ronnie's cousin, Michelle's facebook post. and at the end, I added, "as your dad always said, 'Christmes Eve gift'."

I don't know why I remembered that, but it sparked a visit into Christmases past.

Michelle's dad, Jack Bruno, was Ronnie's dad's brother. Every Christmas Eve, he'd call and as soon as I picked up the receiver, he'd bellow "Christmas Eve gift!" I'd never heard this before, so I had no idea how to respond. I'd usually say, "Christmas Eve gift to you, Jack."

One time, he said, "you're not supposed to say that."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Then why do you always say that?" I asked.

"Because my daddy always said it."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

It reminded me of Ronnie thumping watermelons before we'd buy one. "What are you listening for when you do that?" I asked one time.

"A hollow sound."

"What does 'hollow' sound like?"

"I don't know."

Then why do you do it?"

"Because my daddy always did it."

So in the interest of keeping an old Bruno tradition alive, "Christmas Eve Gift!" to all.

If you know anything about this tradition, please leave me a comment because I still don't know. And next summer I will thump the watermelons because Ronnie always did it.

Getting Old?

2011-12-22T06:17:00.000-08:00

Several years ago when I was working for John in the early 2000's, we did the wedding flowers for a couple in their 80's. The bride had been a friend of John's mother (who was deceased) and the groom was a rancher from Seymour. They had met online on a Christian chat group. The day before the wedding, the bride called and said she was sending the groom in to pick up her bouquet.

I was in my early 50's and 80 plus seemed "really old" as in "one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel". My visual image of the groom was Weaser's boyfriend in Steel Magnolias, the old geaser with a comb-over.

When this man walked in, my mouth dropped open and I just stared at him in disbelief. He was way over six feet tall, and as straight as an arrow. He had on his Stetson and well heeled cowboy boots. He strolled through the shop and into the workroom with more confidence and grace than many men much younger.

I remember him being cheerful and very pleasant. He had a deep powerful voice and when he left, little did he know that he had changed my entire outlook on life. He gave me hope.

I learned that day that getting older doesn' t have to mean deterioration.

I received another dose of that "hope" yesterday when a gentleman came in. He is the "assistant" to one of the wealthiest women in Wichita Falls. While he was there, he and John visited about an upcoming party this woman was hosting, and who all would be there. Then he told us about taking her and one of her friends on a drive around the city looking at the Christmas lights. The ladies had some drinks and they all laughed and had a great time. He said they got home about midnight.

I was already under the impression that this woman was elderly. I'd been hearing her name since I worked for Flowers by Spain in the 70's, so I asked John, "How old is she?"

He laughed out loud. "Oh, my God, Honey! Mrs. B is eighty three, and she's always the last one to leave!"

Both these people seem to have such zest, such enthusiasm and appreciation for the gift of life, for the ability to experience so much of what is here on Earth for us all to enjoy.

So, I decided to work on my zest, my enthusiasm and my appreciation for this gift of a lifetime on Earth. Yesterday, for the first time in many years, I went to a real hair salon and paid $40 to get my hair cut.

I went home and the house was empty and quiet. The kids were all gone shopping, so I made a pot of coffee, built a fire in my cheminea and sat outside for a while. I called and visited with a couple of good friends until the kids burst through the front door bringing their own personal "zest" with them.

They were heading out to the casino and invited me to go with them. I'm not a gambler. I don't see the "fun" in sitting at a machine watching it eat up my $20 bill quarter by quarter, but I said,"yes" and off we all went.

I went in with three $20's and came out with $180 for the very first time ever. I could tell the kids wanted me to cash out and divy up but I knew we'd probably all go home "in the hole" so I kept the winnings to myself and when they'd spent all they had taken with them, we walked out.

They teased me about my "big win" and we laughed all the way home.

I don't believe there is an answer as to why some people live the high life and some seem to struggle from the time they are born until the day they die, but I'm convinced that "attitude" has something to do with it.

I want to be like Mrs. B. I want to be last one to leave.

2011-12-18T19:09:00.000-08:00

I know when our friends happen to drive by my house now, they shake their heads sadly and say to themselves or to whoever is with them, "She's sure letting the place go down hill since Ronnie died."

The truth is, the lawn got sick about the same time Ronnie did. It already looked bad in the early summer when we hired a lawn man to mow and trim it every week but the drought took a major toll. Even after an application of dried molasses, a water bill over $300 in July, and me in constant motion watering some part of the front yard every hour allowed during the watering restrictions, the brown patches in the St. Augustine continued to spread. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to re-sod with St. Augustine again like Ronnie had been doing every spring for several years, I planted 40 pounds of Bermuda seed -- but not even one seed germinated.

I talked with Paul Dowlearn at Wichita Valley Landscape last week. He was puzzled by the Bermuda not germinating at all. Even with really old seed, he said there should have been some sprouts. He said that in some of the lawns that died from the drought, the native grasses are coming back but since my problem isn't solely the lack of water, he recommended I get the soil tested, so I intend to go by this week and get the address for the testing facility.

I also plan to put out some cornmeal and some more molasses because I read online that "brown patch" is cured with these two amendments.

I spent today outside. I mowed the back yard then I went out front and planted the daffodil bulbs I'd dug up when I replanted the flower bed in the center of the yard. I dug up some Vinca major in the back and replanted it on the south side of the house where there are large patches of nothing. I think it is shady enough there for the groundcover to flourish.

I repotted the chrysanthemums in the busted pot and threw it away and moved most of the flower pots back behind the monkey grass border. I still need to trim up the dead plants in the center flowerbed and I'd like to get some Violas in the ground this week.

I think I need a sign, though, that says, "I'm working on it."

Christmas Spirit

2011-12-17T12:25:00.000-08:00

I confess, I have no Christmas spirit this year. A friend invited me out to lunch day before yesterday and as I was driving to meet her, I thought, "Oh, crap. I hope she doesn't bring me a gift!" We've always exchanged small gifts because we've been friends for over twenty years now.

With that thought, I suddenly realized it is ten days til Christmas and I should be buying gifts for several long time friends -- and some new ones, but I hate to shop.

I never like to shop but most years I've been able to gather up some gifts for friends, but this year is different. I put up the Christmas tree, but all it has on it is lights and one ornament that Seth made at day care. It has his picture on it. No lights outside -- yet. Maybe we'll get that done today before we head out to the Bruno Christmas reunion.

I was cordially invited yesterday to go to see the awesome decorations in one of the old historic mansions in Wichita Falls, have some wassail, and see the house. It was magnificent, and pleasant to be with cheerful, creative, knowledgeable and appreciative folks, but when I left there I still felt "derailed" and without direction.

Maybe this lag is just part of the grieving process, but I hope it goes away soon, because I love Christmas.

Bruno's Tomatoes

2011-12-13T05:16:00.000-08:00

One of Ronnie's favorite endeavors was growing tomatoes. He had no aspirations to be a farmer or even a home gardener, but every year he'd put out a few tomato plants, always in pots, usually two or three different kinds. Over the years, he decided he liked the cherry size ones best -- because they're sweet and don't take so long to get ripe.

He never bought enough plants to even get one salad serving at a time, though, so mostly I left the tomato plants to his care and chuckled under my breath when he'd bring in two or three tiny tomatoes and put them in my kitchen window for me to use. "I brought ya some "maters," he'd say.

By late February, Ronnie was paralyzed and in a wheel chair but come spring, he had me go get some tomato plants. I arranged them in pots and set them in his preferred location, right behind our bedroom. They did fairly well, grew tall and put out lots of foilage, but it got too hot too soon and the drought set in. Every day when I'd come in from tending to the pigeons and fish pond, he'd ask, "Did you water my tomatoes?" I did but the weather took a major toll on them and by the time Ronnie passed on, the plants were dead -- or so I thought.

Somethings are just harder to do than others when it comes time to "clear out" the pieces of another person's discarded life. I 'd look at the crispy white wilted foilage on the tomato plants and remember Ronnie telling me, every year, "If you'll keep them watered, you 'll have some fall tomatoes." That seldom happened, but I left the plants in place which for a while only served as a stark reminder of the miserable summer.

A few weeks ago -- after the rains came, I looked out the beautiful brand new window in my bedroom and noticed that the tomato plant had revived at the top and there was an abundance of tiny green berries all over it. By the time the bitter cold arrived, the berries had turned into green "cherries" so I picked them and put them in my kitchen window.

As you can see, they are beginning to ripen. I've already eaten a couple. I thought about Bruno as the delicious flavor mingled with the sweet memories, "I brought you some 'maters ."

Working for John

2011-12-08T17:46:00.000-08:00

I love pleasant surprises -- like the wonderful fragrance of Christmas greens in the cooler at The Florist -- and this wonderous beauty.

John Johnston made it early Monday morning. When I arrived at work at eight thirty, it took my breath away. It was going to a big party/fundraiser for Hospice of Wichita Falls. The lady who ordered it, said she wanted something "spectacular" and as usual, John delivered. You can't really see how huge this arrangement is. The red Amaryllis are in full bloom. Winterberries and Christmas greens fill in around it and he added some red ornaments.

John never ceases to amaze me. For one thing, he is the only person I have ever worked for who loves flowers and loves being a florist. He has more passion for designing than anyone I have ever worked with and that passion shows in his work. As far as I know, John has had no formal training, and all his "on the job training" came after he opened his own flower shop.

But because of that, John works with a sense of freedom -- freedom from the traditional "rules" of floral design. He does it on instinct and from the heart.

I've worked for John before and didn't have any better sense than to leave for supposedly "greener pastures". I'm glad to be back there where not just occasionally, but very often, I encounter beauty that takes my breath away.

He Was Here

2011-11-30T19:54:00.000-08:00

In a conversation that we had after Ronnie was diagnosed with cancer, he made the decision to be cremated, but he confessed to a fear that without a grave marker, there was no proof that he was ever here.

So I bought a grave marker and put it out in Rosemont Cemetery with his mom and dad. I'll scatter some of his ashes there but I also intend to take some with me to Colorado at Christmas.

One of his fondest memories was when he drove that bright red 1948 Chevy to the top of Pikes Peak. I was so scared, if I could have gotten into the floorboard, I would have, but he was as calm as could be. If you've never driven up Piles Peak, the road is switch backs or zigzags. As we were going up, all I could see was clear blue sky. I couldn't see where the road turned back to the left or if another car was coming down. I felt totally blind, but Ronnie was telling me all about the races up and down the mountain that car manufacturers once sponsored to test the endurance of tires and brakes as he manuevered the car up and back and up and back.

When we reached the summit, we went inside the visitor's center and ate expensive but not memorable donuts because a sign we'd seen in Pueblo said everyone should eat donuts at the top of Pikes Peak. We enjoyed the cool air and the incredible scenery looking down on the rest of the world. In his memorial video, the kids used one of my favorite pictures of Ronnie taken that day. He was smiling, looked to be in picture perfect health, was having a good time and making sure I did too.

We often talked about that day and our ride up to the top of Pikes Peak in a streetrod that only had a six inch clearance off the ground, so I think it is fitting to leave some of his ashes up there where we made some great memories.

His marker reads: Ronnie Howard Bruno Sr. was definitely here from October 18, 1947 to August 6, 2011. He built streetrods, raised pigeons, and loved his family, friends and his only grandson, Seth.

Thanksgiving in Ronnie's Shop

2011-11-26T18:18:00.001-08:00

The transformation of Ronnie's shop has begun. For the past three days, my daughter, Deidre, has been working to clean it up. She is turning it into exactly what I had envisioned; a semi comfortable, kind of outdoorsey extension of the yard. It's a place where we can eat, drink and be merry. When it is finished, it will be an interesting place to reconnect with the past through the pictures and oddities that Ronnie collected over the years.

She moved the neon signs that had been in the garage out to the shop which added a welcoming atmosphere. We have a television, a computer and music out there now, and a sign that says, "Free beer tomorrow".

I haven't talked myself into replacing the big door yet. There are so many whispers of Ronnie on the inside of it, stickers he put there, places where he tested the color of the paint he was using. All that will be gone if I replace the door, and I'm not ready to let go of those reminders yet.

Last week, when it started getting cold, I called Dwight Lundy to come and make sure the Dearborn heater is safe to use. Just standing in front of it last night, feeling the warmth against my hands, took me back a long way to mine and Ronnie's first home together, when everyone relied on these stoves to heat our homes before central units were invented.

Deidre and I postponed Thanksgiving til Friday but come tomorrow afternoon, the shop will be filled with merry makers. The side gate will be open if you want to stop by, have a snack and see for yourself. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Book Trailers

2011-11-26T18:02:00.000-08:00

About two years ago, I saw, for the first time, a trailer for a book. I immediately realized what a powerful marketing tool these minute long "movies" would be. More recently, a new member of my writing group, Stephanie Gallentine, sent me the link to her trailer and again, I was blown away by the power of this new method of promoting one's writing.

I checked a site online that advertised producing trailers. It was quite expensive so at that point I started thinking "DIY". Stephanie had made her's but she's way more advanced with computers than I am, so I elicited the help of my kids.

They tried, but over the years, I have figured out that no one else knows what I want better than I do.

With more time on my hands than I know what to do with these days, now is the perfect time to figure out how to make my own trailers. Stephanie had said it was easy but time consuming with Windows Live Movie Maker (which, btw, came on my computer).

The first thing was to find royalty free music that fits the over-all mood of my story. Steph found hers on ebay.com by doing a search for "royalty free music." I believe she told me she paid around $5 for hers but I wasn't that lucky.

I did however find a perfect and powerful movie score to play behind Come Hell or High Water. Next I did a search for "cowboy sunset pictures" then clicked on "images" and downloaded the pictures I liked. Be sure they are free.

The absolute hardest part was deciding what text to put with what pictures. Once I uploaded the music, though, it seemed to guide me. I came up with new words that I hadn't ever used to describe this book before.

I did some more tweaking today and I'm very pleased with it. I think once it gets some exposure, it'll increase my book sales, both paperback and ebooks.

Anniversary Memories

2011-10-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

Forty five years ago, today, Ronnie Bruno and Paula Johnson left Wichita Falls
with Stanley and Linda Bruno and Peggy and Ronnie Sosebee to "elope" in Ryan
Oklahoma. Didn't happen. Ronnie left all our official stuff like blood tests
and fishing license in his glove box in Wichita Falls.

So instead of being married, and going back to our little house we had rented,
we had to go home to our mamas.

Early Saturday morning, he called me to see if the wedding was still on so we
ended up tying the knot at the Wichita County Courthouse, with our parents
present. I was seventeen and he would turn nineteen in three days.

Last February, I ordered a Poetry Portrait by Monica. After reading it, and
with tears streaming down his face, Ronnie said, "That's the nicest gift you
ever gave me."

For those who didn't get a chance to see it, I am posting it here to honor our
nearly 45 years of marriage. I miss you, Bruno.

From the moment I first saw you at the Ponderosa dance hall;

I knew that you were different..not like other boys at all.

Ronnie, each time I look into your deep brown eyes;
The only thing I see is my forever Valentine.

As I watch you building streetrods I can’t help but smile;
You’re like a little boy at Christmas off to Toyland for a while.

I am thankful every day, I was the lucky one who became your wife;
And Ronnie, I hope you know, you are the classic car in my life.

Your sense of humor never weakens even when you are the target;
Such as a certain day at Sunnyside Grocery our kids won’t let you forget it.

No matter what a day holds..your family pride comes shining through;
Your smile lights up the worlds of those around you, including Shelbi and Foxi June.

Come Hell or High Water you were there to back my dreams;
But writing pales in comparison to what you mean to me.

And when I see you with little Seth, I can’t help thinking to myself,
There’s no other person in this world I would want to trade places with.

My life was filled with riches that night so long ago;
When destiny matched me with you, my sweet and handsome Bruno.

As we grow old together never forget this promise from your wife;
You are my Valentine, the classic car in my life.

From 0 to 80 in 3.5 Seconds

2011-09-30T05:13:00.000-07:00

Going from 0 to 80 in 3.5 seconds. That's what it's like to drive Ronnie's Blue Bird. Besides being a car fanatic, Ronnie was also a speed freak.

The Blue Bird has a ZZ 4 crate motor, which I knew was probably a good thing, but I wasn't sure why. So I asked Glen McShan and he explained it this way. He said he paid around $1500 for the motor he has in his hot rod, and that the ZZ 4 is two steps above that. It is a hot rod motor built for speed. He said most streetrodders don't "hot rod" their cars but they enjoy knowing the speed and power is there if they want it or need it. Ronnie said the motor could very well sell the car when the time comes.

I drove the Blue Bird out to Patterson's to get the transmission seal leak fixed and I fell in love with it.

Coming down Southwest Parkway this afternoon, the car in the next lane was swerving awfully close to the Blue Bird, so I goosed it just a little and it shot forward at near the speed of sound, I'm almost sure. It didn't surprise me, because I've ridden in it with Ronnie often enough to know what it is capable of, but I think the roar as we passed that car probably woke up the driver.

So now instead of dreading the drive to Texas Motor Speedway, I'm looking forward to it. I have just now discovered what Ronnie has known all his life. It is FUN to drive a hot rod!

The Lady Cave

2011-09-29T10:00:00.000-07:00

Ronnie's long time dream was to have a shop where he could work on cars, build and paint streetrods and store all his tools. We hadn't lived here very long when he started building it. With pipe and welding expertise donated by his step dad, the building began to take shape. Ronnie's brothers came to weld pipe, smooth concrete and secure the metal roofing and siding. Friends came to do the electrical wiring and natural gas. It isn't perfect, but Ronnie loved it and when it didn't suit his needs, he figured out ways to make it work. He spent hundreds of hours out in his shop.

Ronnie was very protective of his 20 x 20 space -- and for good reason. We are always bulging at the seams in the house and looking for a new place to store things. "My shop is not a storage shed," he'd say when one of us suggested putting something out there to keep it out of the weather.

But the days of building motors and streetrods are over now. Ronnie's presence is still very strong out there, though and I want to preserve it as a place where the kids and I can relax and unwind and enjoy our memories of Ronnie. I want it to be an extension of the yard. When both doors are open it catches a good breeze, so soon, I will order a new easy roll overhead door to replace the back breaking one that was originally installed on the front. There is also an evaporative cooler on wheels if we need it and a cool touch Dearborn heater for the winter. I think it'll be nice to be out there on a cold day, standing in front of the heater warming my hands like Ronnie and I both did as kids. It'll be a place to get away if we want to use it for that.

We're working on clearing out the stuff we have no use for such as cans of automotive paint, primer, old tarps that he used to cover up anything he didn't want to get over spray on.

I'm going to keep his tools because you never know when you might need a wrench or a rachet, a reciprocating saw, or a vice grip. Besides they are so much a part of who he was. The drill press will stay in one corner and the wire wheel grinder in another. I intend to mount his mechanic's creeper on the wall along with pictures of Ronnie with his cars and his other loves such as me and the kids and Seth Ryan Pruett, the dogs and the pigeons and squirrels.

I bought some bright colored outdoor rugs because the floor has many layers of paint on it, and peels constantly. When I decided to buy new smaller furniture for my living room, I also decided to move the old couch/recliner out to Ronnie's Shop so we can sit in comfort and remember. A friend gave us a tv which we put out there and promptly ran the cable over to it. Hook up that DVD player he'd put out there and we're all set to gather on pleasant evenings.

There is a nice big corner behind the couch where I intend to store my Christmas decorations. Other than that, it will not be used for storage.

Right now it looks like a toy car lot with Seth's vehicles, but I don't think Ronnie would mind..

If It Feels Good, Do It

2011-09-11T20:16:00.000-07:00

Back in the 1970's, the Hippie movement,( or was it Goldie Hawn on Laugh-in) gave us the saying, "If it feels good, do it." Because the Hippies were also touting free love, the old fogies of the day were offended. Apparently their always proper minds were in the gutter because as far as they were concerned "do it" referred to only one thing.

Their level of anguish increased when the bumper stickers came out. "Do it in a pickup." "Do it on a motorcycle.", "Do it on top of a mountain," and then came the ones that said, "I did it at the top of Mt Everest", "I did it on Amtrac" etc.

I worked with two elderly sisters during that time and I did my best to explain to them that it wasn't a reference to sex, that what the youngsters were trying to say (in a way that would get everybody's attention) was "Find your joy. Look for what makes you feel good and go for it!"

They didn't buy it. After all, they were in their 60's and I was 21. What could I possibly know?

But the emotions behind that statement "if it feels good, do it," are as meaningful today as they were in the 70's.

Life is for living and it is suppose to make us happy, but most of us spend a lot of time bitching about the fact that we don't have what we want. "That guy over there has it but I don't and I don't understand why he deserves it more than I do."

So in an effort to do as I preach, I start off every day counting my blessings on a tablet, in long hand, sitting at my kitchen table, looking out my back door. I offer thanks and appreciation for the things I most take for granted, like the fact that my home and vehicles are paid for. I have electricity, clean running water, and natural gas. I go from there, my wonderful family, that we like each other and have a good time when we're together, that I have this computer and internet connections. When I start NOTICING how many things I have to be thankful for, to praise the Lord for, I start feeling good, feeling happier and happier.

Look for things that make you feel good. Look for things, people and situations that make you feel appreciation for the beauty and goodness that is there. Stop looking for that waitress to make a mistake in serving you or the food to be bad. Stop honking and cussing at the person who cuts you off in traffic. Most likely they didn't do it on purpose. Learn to give others the benefit of the doubt.

When I started doing this many years ago, I was about as miserable as one person can get. And I promise, if you will take the time, not over ten minutes a day, every day for one month, you'll start seeing your life change for the better.

I've been trying for years to get people to try this new path to a happier life, but mostly what I hear is, "Yeah, sure, I'm gonna find ten minutes in the morning with a husband and three kids," or "I'm not a writer."

Well, we all have the same 24 hours in a day. How we spend that time is an individual choice.

I borrowed this quote from a friend, "We either make ourselves happy or miserable. The amount of time is the same." by Carlos Casteneda.

Ten minutes a day, a cheap spiral notebook and a Bic ball point. That's all you need.

This Past Year

2011-09-07T14:05:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted here in so long, November, 2010 to be exact. My, how time drags when you aren't having any fun. In another way this past year has flown by. Either way I look at it, the changes came whether I wanted them or not.

Now I have to figure out how to live this new life that sort of looms in front of me like a long empty stretch of road.

When you have lived your whole life with someone else, they absorb a lot of your time, and when they are gone, you have to find new ways to fill those newly available hours. That's where I am now.

I sensed that a friend was disturbed by the fact that I have already started cleaning out his closet, but what most people don't realize is that I had been grieving for a year before he passed away. As his wife of 45 years and his primary caretaker, no one knows the level of care he required, or how exhausting it was, physically and mentally, to do it day in and day out for five months.

I've read many times that the spirit can leave the body at any given time, and it often does in the instance of extreme trauma which could account for the loss of memory when someone is horribly injured.

His spirit left long before his body gave up. For at least two weeks, I hadn't been able to look into his beautiful brown eyes and see the man I knew so well for so long.

I could become a Facebook junkie, or while away some major hours playing games, but time feels very precious to me now and I don't want to waste any of it.

I'm going to clean out my closet and throw away all my old clothes and try to find some fashionable outfits that look nice on me. For the first time in my life, I am free to find out who I am.

Or should I say, to find out who I want to be. We aren't born to be a certain personality. Through contact with others and our own experiences, we evolve into who we are. That doesn't mean we can't change, that we can't become more confident, more self assured, that we can't drag the shy girl out of the closet and into the radiant sunshine where she can thrive -- even at 62.

I've decided to leave a lot of my old life behind -- the stressful situations, the on and off friends, the need to have the approval of those around me. For the first time in my life, I am free to do it my way. For the first time in my life, it's my turn.

Those Damned Bagless Vacuum Cleaners

2010-11-20T06:32:00.000-08:00

I’m all for progress, but some things that we’re told are “wonderful”, just aren’t.

In my opinion, the person who invented the bagless vacuum cleaner is an idiot and must be a man who has never used a vacuum cleaner. He’s probably the same guy who designed the stalls in women’s restrooms -- but that’s another article.

Every time I empty the canister, which is every time I use the vacuum cleaner, the filth from my carpet blows all over me before it settles in the dumpster. My hands are covered with it. I feel like it’s on my face and in my hair. It is certainly on my clothes.

Someone suggested I dump it in the trash in the house but that doesn’t work well either. The dust is so fine, it ends up all over everything near by – such as my cook stove, refrigerator and the floor.

As I stand there with it swirling all around me, I’m reminded of that old tv commercial for oven cleaner, “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Can you still buy vacuum cleaners with a bag anymore?

Bullying

2010-10-22T06:54:00.000-07:00

I’m going to weigh in on this bullying headline. We’ve heard enough of the horror stories from the victims and their families. Where are the interviews with the little jerks who do the bullying? Why aren’t they on Dr. Phil, Jane Valez Mitchell, Larry King and all the others, explaining why they are hateful and mean to other kids?

Why aren’t THEIR parents on the talk shows explaining why their kids don’t know it’s not all right to be mean to people, regardless of what they look like, how they dress or how smart they are? Why are these parents not having to explain why their kids don’t know that what they are doing is wrong?

This is a lot bigger problem than keeping an eye on what your kids are doing on the internet. For every cyber-bulling instance, there is at least an equal number of bullying cases everyday at school and at work. Yes, I said, at work because many of the young adults I know can be as mean and caddy as their children – especially when they are at work. It seems like the work place is just an extension of high school for some people. They gang up on one co-worker and hound them until they drive them out.

Nearly everyone knows what The Golden Rule is – “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
In other words, don’t do something to someone else that would make you feel bad if it was done to you.

I remember my first experience with this. My Daddy bit me on the arm to show me what it felt like when I bit my sister. All during my childhood when I’d run to Mama to tell her something ugly some one had said about someone else, she’d ask me, “How would it make you feel if that was said about you?” “How would you feel if that happened to you?”

Of course, I didn’t listen when I was a child because everyone else at school participated in hatefulness all the time, and I wanted to fit in. My heart was shattered one day, though, when my one and only friend in 5th grade, passed a note to me severely criticizing a fellow classmate. I wrote my own bit of hateful crap on it and was passing it back to her when the teacher intercepted it. She read it out loud – in front of the entire class – in front of this poor girl who had never done anything mean to me. And then she just went on with her music lesson leaving everyone stunned, my “friend” and I embarrassed to the core and that little girl crying. A hard lesson, that was, and I’m extremely thankful that she didn’t go home and kill herself. After that I seldom saw that girl. Every time I did, I felt ashamed of myself but I never apologized to her because I didn’t know how without admitting how truly evil I was that day. So to Connie Maness, I’m deeply sorry for the pain that incident must have caused you.

My mother often said, “There is always a kinder way.”

It seems to me that a large part of society has lost touch with kindness. So how do we get back in touch with the best in ourselves? How do we teach our kids to look for things to like about others instead of looking for something to criticize?

I’ve read that, “What you see in others is a reflection of what you see in yourself.” That means if you view others as dorky or ugly or less in anyway, it means that deep inside, you think of yourself in those terms too. Looking back, I can see how insecure and “not good enough” I felt as a child – especially in school.

All criticism comes from low self-appreciation, a feeling of insecurity or jealousy or envy. We should keep that in mind when we point out the flaws in someone else. We should remember it when our kids come home laughing about how stupid some one else is, that “she’s sooo fat!” or that “he’s a fag.” We need to teach our kids that it’s not all right to hurt other people.

I read this poem when I was a child. It is a good reminder of the effects of verbal cruelty.

Drop a Pebble in the Water
by James W. Foley

Drop a pebble in the water: just a splash, and it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center, flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.

Drop a pebble in the water: in a minute you forget,
But there’s little waves a-flowing, and there’s ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;
You’ve disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone.

Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them, once you’ve started them to flow.

Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute you forget;
But there’s little waves a-flowing, and there’s ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy ere you dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness: just a flash and it is gone;
But there’s half a hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave
‘Til you wouldn’t believe the volume of that one kind word you gave.

Dop a word of cheer and kindness: in a minute you forget;
But there’s gladness still a-swelling, and there’s joy a-circling yet,
And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of ocean just by dropping one kind word.

It's Raining!

2010-08-10T14:26:00.000-07:00

August 10, 2010. Blessed is the pouring rain! It was about to look like summer around here, heaven forbid. This is one of the exciting things about living in Texas. You never know what the weather is going to do. An hour ago, it was sunny and 100 plus degrees. Now it's pouring down rain and the temperature has dropped to 80 degrees. Ten minutes later, the sun is shining again and the rain has stopped. Such a joy to behold!

Being Granny P

2010-06-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

It's Official!

My friends are all right! It is great to be a grandma. With this post, I'm publicly admitting that I have turned into the blithering idiot that they all predicted I'd become once my grandson got here.

I loved my kids. I thought they were great -- most of the time. When you're a young parent, though, it seems like everything has to be taken care of right now. Everything was very serious and important.

I don't remember playing with my little kids much because as soon as we walked into the house in the evenings, I had to start supper, then clean up the kitchen, do laundry, get the kids bathed and into bed at a decent hour.

Mornings brought a new rigid routine that we all had to adhere to in order to get to work and school on time. No time for nonsense. No time to stop and just watch my youngsters.

That's one of my biggest regrets.

If Seth Ryan Pruett is at my house, I don't care if supper isn't ready, or the laundry done or the books written. I have a completely different attitude about changing a dirty or wet diaper. Where it used to be a gross and inconvenient time stealer, now it's just a funny part of taking care of SRP.

Where a sobbing baby once set my nerves on end, with Seth Ryan Pruett, my remedy is to offer him a calm soothing back rub and butt patting until he falls asleep.

My kids remember me as being loving, so I guess I was. My daughter is older and therefore much more patient and easy-going than I was when she was a baby. She's tuned in (somewhat) to the power of her thoughts and emotions. Her desire for her child is for him to be a happy, healthy, well adjusted, enlightened child, much like the boy, Seth, in the Sara and Seth books by Abraham-Hicks.

How do we instill a good self image in this child without setting him up for disappointment? Kids today are being told that they can do anything, have anything, be anything they want. I believe that's true, but, at some point, it seems that many of them lose their belief in themselves to accomplish all that they want.

There's an old piece of information entitled "Desiderata" that gives some excellent advice on living. One piece of that say, "If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter because always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself."

So how do we avoid comparisons? It seems to start as soon as they come out and are weighed. "Gee! He's a big boy! Cooper only weighed five pounds."

As soon as they get here, we start trying to take the best care of them by getting on the internet to see how other babies fared at this age and that age. It’s like a way of life, now, to check out all the pros and cons of everything so how would a new parent, in this age of instant information, go about raising a child without the aid of comparison?

Maybe comparing your child’s progress to another’s isn’t a bad thing as long as you don’t use that information to make your child feel “less than” in some way.

I don’t know, but hopefully, we’ll figure it out for SRP’s sake.

Book Signing Re-scheduled

2010-06-03T04:48:00.001-07:00

The signing for Come Hell or High Water at Hastings in Wichita Falls has been rescheduled for Saturday, June 12, from 1-5 pm. Hope to see lots of folks there. Even if you already have a copy, come by and say hi!

The Oklahoma Writer's Federation Inc Conference

2010-05-04T13:44:00.000-07:00

I'm back!

I had a wonderful time at the OWFI conference! I met a slew of fun, nice, helpful folks from all over. I learned a ton of stuff about blogging and how to increase book sales online etc. Tina and I actually got to sit with P.B. Smith (the presenter of the blogging workshop) and talk about blogging and all the possibilities that the internet has provided for writers like me who may or may not ever hit the New York Times Best Seller list. The most important thing I learned is that lots and lots of writers are making money selling their own books, self published and traditionally published, through many different outlets. One author, Nancy Robinson Masters sold books at Krogers' grocery store, because no one else was selling books there.

I learned from Maria Rachel Hooley, who won four awards in the contest, that I should publish my book as an ebook on Amazon even though I've already published it as such with Smashwords because Amazon has a much wider distribution network.

I also learned from Terry Burns of Hartline Literary Agency that as soon as a book is given an ISBN number, that the first edition rights (which all publishers want when they purchase a title) are gone and that most traditional publishers won't pick it up. What this information did for me was to turn the lights back on, on my previously determined path of publishing my work and selling it myself.

Of course many agents and traditional publishers had a disdain for self publishing that is only barely concealed. But people like P.B. Smith who has had many books published through traditional publishers says she intends to publish the rest of her work herself.

Why, when she already has a foot in the door with traditional publishers? Because the idea that publishers will promote a writer, market for them and do all the "hard work so we can sit home and write", is and has always been a myth. They only do it for the most successful and only after they are very successful because it is extremely expensive to advertise and set up book signings. Publishers, simply put, are not willing to risk the almighty dollar on new writers.

Also, a writer keeps more of the money from the sales of their books.

I met the absolutely charming K.D. Wentworth, who writes science fiction books and short stories. We sat next to one another at the book signing and had interesting conversations including one about what color book covers are reputed to sell and what colors don't. In a discussion of my book's cover and the cover of the second one, she warned me not to have them looking too much the same. She showed me an example of two of her books that were so similar in color and design, that Amazon had twice sent the wrong book to customers.

We exchanged email addresses and she's supposed to send me a copy of a short story that she'd used as an example in one of her workshops.

I met Winona Cross and Julia Mozingo of the Red River Romance Writers. They invited me to come to their meeting this coming Saturday. I will go if I don't have to work. It is Mothers' Day, ya know.

There's probably a lot more to say but this is all for now!

Book Signing Postponed

2010-04-22T05:59:00.001-07:00

Due to the horrorific events at Hastings Tuesday night, the book signing set for Saturday, April 24th, has been postponed until late May or early June. I'll post the exact date and time here as soon as I know.

2010-04-19T04:36:00.001-07:00

Ya'll don't forget about my book signing at Hastings on Southwest Parkway in Wichita Falls, Texas, Saturday from 1- 4pm. Even if you've already bought one and read it, come by and say hi!

regarding my post, Self Publishing Today

2010-04-19T04:23:00.000-07:00

Michael N. Marcus is the president of Independent Self-Publishers Alliance, http://www.independentselfpublishers.orgHe is the author of, "Become a Real Self-Publisher: Don’t be a Victim of a Vanity Press," http://www.amazon.com/dp/0981661742 and "Stories I'd Tell My Children (but maybe not until they're adults)," http://www.amazon.com/dp/0981661750 http://www.BookMakingBlog.blogspot.com http://www.SilverSandsBooks.com

Michael said this regarding my "Self Publishing Today" blog.

"You gave some excellent advice, but saying, 'Both of these sites offer absolutely free publishing and there are others that do, too" is misleading.Writers can upload files and use cover templates for free, but if you want Lulu or CreateSpace to print real books, it's NOT free.'"

Michael, thanks for your comments. It looks like you are on the leading edge of self publishing. I should clarify that Createspace does make money off my books, so in that sense, it is not free, but as far as having to put up a big pile of money in order to get the book published, as with the old fashioned vanity presses, I didn't have to do that -- hence, it was "free".

My apologies to anyone who was misled. My own experience with self-publishing through Createspace has been excellent. The marketing part has been tough since I'm still toting around some of my old aversion to self publishing. Neither Createspace nor any other publisher can fix that for me. It's something I have to work out myself.

Thanks again, Michael, for helping me clear that up. Ya'll check out Michael's site. Looks like he's got some interesting information on there.

Self Publishing Today

2010-04-12T08:06:00.000-07:00

In 1972, when I was in my early 20's, I worked with an older woman who had a family member who had "written a book". It was interesting how much respect the family had given this woman, Helen, because she'd "written a book". When I mentioned that I was a writer, too, however, my boss, said, "It's a waste of time. Helen never made no money with it and it drove her crazy." Come to find out, Helen had spent most of her adult life in the near-by mental institution.

I didn't question too much about Helen and her book but I listened. I wanted to know about her publishing experience and why she'd never made any money, because I dreamed of making money with my writing, too. I sure didn't want it drive me crazy, though.

I knew that there must be ways to profit from writing. I knew that when the end credits of a movie roll and the page comes up that says, "Based on the novel 'Fill in the Blank' by So-and So" that that writer had been paid big bucks.

So during the three years I worked there, I managed, with a question here and there, to put the pieces of Helen's puzzle together.

Helen's husband had found many boxes of her book up in the attic. Helen had published it through a vanity press. In those days, a writer had to buy hundreds of copies of their book in order to get it printed so investing one's own money in this venture was a lot more profitable for the printer than the writer. Figuring out where and how to sell all those books was the author's problem. The words "marketing tools" hadn't even been coined then.

With Helen's disastrous self publishing experience always in the back of my mind, I developed and nurtured a strong aversion to self publishing. But one thing I kept in mind all these years is that if I couldn't make money with my story (I only had one then) I'd just have to croak unpublished.

I've read many self published books and one thing that stands out perfectly clear to me is that most authors who have chosen this avenue to getting their books out there for others to read, is that they are in an awfully big hurry.

It's no mystery why self-published books haven't traditionally garnered any respect. Most of them have not had proper editing. They are riddled with mistakes. Many of them have such generic covers, they remind me of those old advertisements for unmentionable products that would be "delivered to your home in a plain brown wrapper".

Self publishing had to have been a disappointing if not disastrous financial and emotional experience for many like Helen who chose to do it even just fifteen years ago. That's all changing in leaps and bounds now with online publishing, print on demand, electronic books and hand held electronic readers like Kindle, Sony and Iphones.

And the best news is online publishing is expanding and getting better every day.

A dear friend of mine published her fantasy novel about seven years ago through one of the first online publishers. She paid quite a bit of money for an editorial service through this company. Apparently, this company didn't offer a free option at that time so she had some ground to make up from the beginning. As it turned out, the book looked great, but was too expensive, and they'd edited out over 200 pages. The result of this was that she wouldn't even try to market the book so she hasn't made any of the money back that she paid for the editorial service let alone a big fat profit. This unsatisfactory epublishing experience has left her very bitter and cynical.

My advice to her and others like her is "get over it". There are lots of online publishers out there that are absolutely free to upload your book and design your own cover. You can get someone else to custom design your book's cover and upload the pdf. These online publishers get their money when you buy and sell books.

After turning 60 this past spring, I realized that I didn't have time to wait any longer for my manuscript to get some agent's attention. I wanted my family and friends to be able to read and enjoy my story and characters in a comfortable and easy to handle format -- not the bulky loose paged manuscript that they'd all struggled with years ago. Plus the story itself had evolved drastically since anyone outside my writers' group had read it. I wanted it in book form.

My son had sent me the web address for Lulu.com and I began the process. How I ended up at Createspace. com, I don't remember, but that's where Come Hell or High Water became a book. Both of these sites offer absolutely free publishing and there are others that do, too.

My experience with publishing my novel through Createspace has been interesting, exciting and a lot of fun.

Using a traditionally published book as a guideline, Come Hell or High Water took on a very professional appearance inside. We, meaning me and a couple of members of Wichita Falls Creative Writers, went through five proof copies with fine toothed combs to weed out the errors and typos before I made it available to the public.

My daughter is a graphic designer. She made the cover for me. We went through dozens of "western images" before we decided on the silhouette of the cowboy on a rearing horse with a sunset colored sky in the background. She found the "Bleeding Cowboy" font with its whips and drips that spells out the title and my name.

I did not want my book to scream "she published it herself" at everyone who picked it up, so my daughter made a logo for "Po' Boy Publishing" a imprint that she'd used on greeting cards she'd drawn as a youngster.

After I published the printed form, I went to smashwords.com and published it as an ebook. Because ebooks are formatted differently than printed books I worked with my manuscript and the smashwords staff until I got the book formatted properly, and into their premium catalog.

Have I sold thousands of copies? No, not yet but the only money I have invested in this project has been for copies all of which I have sold for a nice profit. But there is no pressure to sell the book since I don't have any huge amount of money riding on it. That makes the whole experience a lot more fun.

My best advice to anyone pondering self publication is to take your time. Don't get in a hurry. With traditional publishing, the average time period between a book being bought and its appearance on the bookshelf is two years. So, slow down. Join a critique group in your area or find one online. Createspace offers a "feedback" forum. Get some help with the editing. But by all means, don't rush it. Get your book as close to perfect as humanely possible

Helen died many years ago. I'm sure that her failure to get rich with her book, had little to do with her instability. More probable would be that it was one problem of many that she couldn't find peace with. But I'm sure she'd be pleased to know that I just bought a copy of her book, Hulley Gulley on Amazon.com to read to my grandson.

2010-03-31T19:15:00.000-07:00

Kodak Moments

We all have them -- every day -- but from experience I know that most of them pass with little recognition let alone appreciation for the power they have to change our lives for the better.

I'm learning to take time to notice -- to feel the power of the positive emotion that always accompanies them.

Often that powerful positive emotion brings tears, which I've wondered about for many years. Why is that we cry when we see or experience things that please us in some extreme way? What is that powerful emotion? I've decided the only way to accurately describe it is "overjoyed". That's when the happiness you feel can't be contained within your physical body and it flows out in the form of tears and usually laughter.

Recently, I adopted two young turtles, Dude and Chicken. After much emotional stress I decided to put them in my outdoor pond. I'd done this before and lost two turtles because I didn't know enough about turtle behavior to know that they wouldn't stay in my pond and why.

The first turtle I lost (Sparky) was very small. He'd been raised in captivity in a small container that had a sandy hill and a small shallow pond. When I set him on the rocks outside the pond, he took several minutes to decide to give the deep water a try. I only saw him once after he went into the water. After several days it was clear that he wasn't there. Where had he gone? And why?

I'd read that turtles are solitary creatures, preferring to be alone, but I was on a box turtle website and I've realized that water turtles are not solitary. Along the banks of Lucy Park Duck Pond, the sliders (like Sparky, Dude and Chicken) can be seen in abundance along the west bank. They congregate in large numbers to enjoy the sunshine. I now realize that Sparky left in search of other turtles.

Later that same summer, we "rescued" a fairly large red-eared slider off a country road, a couple of miles from a big lake but in desert like territory.
She left our pond within the first day. We found her in the yard a couple of times, then she disappeared completely. My husband found a turtle not far from our house preparing to cross a busy highway. Same size, same kind as the one we'd picked up out in the country. I think it was her -- out looking for other turtles, possibly smelling nearby Lake Wichita. Ronnie rescued her again and brought her back to our yard and we haven't seen her since.

I didn't realize until later that my pond wasn't big enough to accommodate her in the first place.

So this is why I was stressing about putting Dude and Chicken in the pond. One difference in D and C is that they were raised in deep water. They seemed to thoroughly enjoy having plenty of room to swim. They also have each other and they are still small enough to live comfortably in my pond.

So I put them out there Sunday. I can see them peeking up at me from under the rocks and potted plants.

Yesterday I walked out to check on them and take them some food. As soon as I dropped the pellets into the water, I saw a flurry of activity out of the corner of my eye. When the "dust" cleared, I saw what had happened. Chicken had been at the surface and when I dropped the food, it startled her and she dove under the accumulation of leaves on the bottom. All I could see of her was her yellow striped head --peeking up at me, her shell completely obscured by leaves.

The joy I felt at seeing the turtle caused me to laugh out loud. It was definitely one of those times when I wished I had had a camera handy.

Another one happened Sunday. I was watching my 10 week old grandson, Seth, while his mama went to run errands. We had a great time just looking at each other. When I changed his diaper, I layed him on the bed. When I finished, I sat down next to him. He seems to enjoy being free to move his arms and legs. We ooh'ed and ahh'ed at one another for several minutes, then I picked up his first book from Dolly Parton, "The Little Engine That Could" and I began reading it to him. He watched me closely and seemed very content to listen.

I was about half way through it when my daughter barged in. When she realized what I was doing, she said, "Oh my gosh, I've interrupted a Kodak Moment" and she went into the bathroom and closed the door. I continued reading the story. When I finished, she came out of the bathroom - sobbing - "Oh my God, that is sooo sweet!"

I looked down at Seth and said, "Your mama's silly,"

He laughed out loud and grinned ear to ear as if he totally understood what I'd said.

That definately was a Kodak moment.

Squirrel Girls

2010-03-25T11:57:00.000-07:00

New additions to our family -- two girl squirrels.

2010-03-18T04:48:00.000-07:00

I read an article yesterday that urged those of us who have blogs to post things of interest to whoever maybe reading it. Instead of what? Mindless chatter, maybe? I've read a few of those.

That advice presents a problem for me because I don't know why I even have a blog. It's time consuming since I "can't say hello in less than twenty thousand words". And it's worrisome, knowing it's out there most of the time with nothing new having been posted. Having a blog carries a fair amount of guilt that, not only have I experienced myself, but I've heard expressed by other bloggers who made a time commitment to their blog and have since fallen short.

What is the purpose of a blog? I don't know and I don't know how it got started or even how it came to be named a "blog". It sounds kind of like "bla" as in "bla bla bla". Maybe that's what they are! A place for people to record their every thought and problem. I guess that's better than watching tv. Jones Carver O'Grady in Come Hell or High Water didn't have a "blog" but he could have put one to good use recording all the interesting things he came across while working on the Kirkland Ranch.

This link in cyberspace, this smidgen of the blogosphere, is mine, so from here on out I'm going to use it to record the interesting things I encounter.

2010-03-07T13:59:00.000-08:00

Coming Soon! The Hell About Stallions

The feud between the Kirklands and the Logans explodes in a violent and tragic gun battle when Travis Kirkland, Revis Kirkland's older son, falls in love with Ken Logan's daughter, Jenny in The Hell About Stallions, sequel to Come Hell or High Water.

When Kenneth Logan goes on a killing spree, Revis Kirkland learns the facts behind the long-standing hatred between the two families, a truth that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

2010-03-07T13:44:00.000-08:00

COME HELL OR HIGHWATER is the first installment in the four part Kirkland Family Saga. It is set in 1958 on a cattle ranch between Burkburnett and Wichita Falls, Texas. Revis Kirkland is the main character in all four stories but the focus of Come Hell or High Water is Revis’ newly forming relationship with his eight-year-old illegitimate son, Toby. Revis’ nineteen year marriage to Holly is already in serious trouble when Toby’s mother brings him out to the ranch and tells Revis it’s his turn to take care of the boy. Fully aware that Toby’s presence in the home will not be welcome, Revis vows to keep his son -- come hell or high water. Two weeks later, Toby disappears and the search is on to find him and bring him home.

Woven into this story are many interesting characters including, Revis’ foreman, Luke McKinney, Luke’s daughter, Amanda, and five colorful cowboys, Jones, Colt, Scooter, Jake and Spence. Also adding intrigue to the story is a long standing feud between the Kirkland Ranch and the volatile Logan family of Burkburnett.

2010-03-07T06:02:00.000-08:00

As most of you probably don't know, this next week, March 7 through March 13 is "Read an Ebook Week". You can read all about it at http://ebookweek.com . Smashwords.com is celebrating this time by encouraging it's writers to allow their books and articles to be downloaded free. That includes Come Hell or High Water. I haven't had time to check it out thoroughly, but it sounds like the books that participate in this will get some good publicity so I went for it.

I'm also going to release one printed copy of Come Hell or High Water through www.Bookcrossing.com. It's going to Archer City first. I'll post an update as soon as Alexia and her mother release it hopefully after they read it.

For all of you who aren't familiar with Bookcrossing.com, you should check it out. It's a fun way to get some of those books out there for others to try, books that you may have really enjoyed but probably never read again. When you register a book, it's given a number which you'll put in the inside of the book, (you can order cute little lables that say things like "I'm not lost, I'm on a journey) then whoever finds it can go to www.bookcrossing.com and report where they found it and some about their experience of finding it. Then you can go online and see where all it's been. It's fun and interesting. Give it a try. I know some of you people have scads of books, some to the point you'd be labeled a "hoarder", so do your kids a favor, release some of them into the wild and see what happens!

CHHW is back on Smashwords.com

2010-03-04T04:51:00.000-08:00

CHHW is on Smashwords again!! Several months ago, I received a notice from Smashwords that I needed to correct some problems with the formatting of Come Hell or High Water in order for it to sell as an ebook. Part of the instructions left me totally frustrated until last weekend when a friend figured it out for me. After that I was able to go through the smashwords formatting instructions and fix all the problems. I did so well, CHHW will be listed on smashwords' "premium distrubution list" which is a list that their customers (ebook sellers) use to see what's available. That list is like smashwords' guarantee that the ebooks they buy will download nicely in many different formats to accomodate all the new readers from Kindle to Iphones.

What's being said about Come Hell or High Water

2010-02-11T18:34:00.000-08:00

I am definately ringing my own bell about my novel COME HELL OR HIGH WATER, but what the hell, it's all about exposure.

Monica Murphy wrote this on her blog http://awritersweeklyreview.blogspot.com/
I grew up reading Larry McMurtry novels. I loved The Last Picture Show and remember as a teenager the sequel Texasville being filmed in nearby Archer City where both movies were set.

The past year took me down memory lane when another local writer brought a small town nearby to literary life. I call Paula a female Larry McMurtry. NOT because the book is set locally so much as this: like him, Paula Bruno brings her characters to life.

I am right there when Revis Kirkland gets the chance to acquaint himself with his illegitimate son, Toby, who is now eight years old. I watch the tender (and not so tender) dance of familyRevis does with his young son. Set in 1958, Paula makes us visualize the time, the locale, the era, because she sets it up as easily as if it were a floral arrangement for a special occasion: everything comes together as their father/son relationship blossoms.

When this relationship is interrupted by an evil twist, Revis' role as father kicks into gear: he is going to find Toby, Come Hell or High Water.

I couldn't put the book down. It was THAT good.
Posted by Monica at 9:12 AM

Bonnie Beck said in a personal email:

Paula, I finished your book a couple of nights ago, and just loved it!!! When will the next one be available???

I found absolutely NO faults; was just a pleasure to read, ….. the ending only made me want to know more. I think you have a REAL gift in expressing a good story. Keep it up, girl!

And finally, Shefali O'Hara had this to say about it on her Austin Examiner page : http://www.examiner.com/examiner/x-4365-Austin-Marriage-Examiner~y2010m2d9-Check-out-Some-Local-Texas-Fiction

I grew up in New York City, so while I was a child, local fiction included things like "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn", "Catcher in the Rye" and "Goodbye Columbus". When I moved to Colorado, a friend of mine turned me onto Tony Hillerman by handing me "Skinwalkers" and telling me, "Here, you live in the Southwest now, it's time you read some of our local fiction." I really enjoyed the Jim Chee novels, and was grateful to my friend for turning me on to them.
Living in Colorado, I saw a different culture than that of my hometown, and so the locally written novels, which incorporated the native linguistic cadences and the local peculiarities of custom, seemed particularly appealing. Therefore, when I moved to Wichita Falls, I sought out the local Texas fiction, and for the same reason. At the time, people recommended the books by Larry McMurty. Now another local author has come out with her debut novel, and it's a winner.

"Come Hell or High Water" by Paula Bruno is set in 1958 on the Kirkland Ranch near Burkburnett. Open the pages of this novel and you will find yourself immersed in ranch life from that period. It's obvious Bruno has done her research, in addition to just being familiar with the rolling plains of Texas as an almost native. (Bruno moved to Texas when she was 4 years old).

Additionally, the book deals with the types of issues that many blended families have to deal with - what do you do with your spouse's child by another person? How do you fit that child into a pre-existing family situation? Do you nurture that child as your own, or take a more distant role? And how does that child deal with becoming part of a new family?

The main character of the book, Revis Kirkland, is an incredibly appealing alpha male who is deeply loyal to those he cares about, including the illegitimate son, Toby, who suddenly becomes a part of his life and who he vows to keep, come hell or high water. This vow is particularly meaningful because Revis' wife, Holly, is less than welcoming to the new addition to the family. In an age where men seem so ready to walk out on their obligations, Revis' deep love for his children is heart warming. At the same time, Holly's reaction to Toby is understandable.

I am sure many men and women can secretly relate to her feelings. While it is easy to say that of course one should welcome the child of one's spouse by a previous marriage or an out-of-wedlock child, at the same time, faced with this reality, I am sure many would be dismayed. It is a natural human reaction.
For Revis and Holly, this addition to their family is only one more point of conflict. Both are strong individuals, and the family drama that ensues will ring true to many modern marriages. While Holly is not portrayed as a sympathetic character, at the same time, we can understand her motivations. Like all of Bruno's characters, she is multi-dimensional.

Revis' foreman, Luke, is the level-headed and practical counter-weight to Revis' more hot-headed personality. He is, like Revis, totally devoted to family. His situation is that of a single father who has raised his daughter, Amanda, and is now helping her care for her daughter.

Meanwhile, Toby, the little boy who is suddenly thrust into his father's life, is an entirely sympathetic character. One aches for him as he longs for his mother or tries to protect his emotional vulnerability. Because Bruno helps us to really care for this little boy and for his father, it is wrenching when Toby disappears. As Revis searches for his son, the reader will find it hard to put the book down, because the characters are that real and that engaging.

That is the main strength of Bruno's work - her three-dimensional characters. You quickly come to care for them, flaws and all. Bruno also has her dialog down pat. You really feel that you are a fly on the wall listening to real people in real situations. There are also elements of drama, suspense, romance and action in the book, so that it will satisfy most readers.
The main weakness of Bruno's work is that there may not be enough in the way of action sequences for some readers and there are a few places where the language is stilted. However, those are minor quibbles. Overall, this is an excellent, enjoyable book and an easy read. Buy a copy for yourself, or for a newly transplanted friend to introduce them to some local Texas fiction.

If you'd like to buy the book, here is the link to the Amazon site: http://www.amazon.com/Come-Hell-High-Water-1/dp/1448683629/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1265727228&sr=8-1

How to Order Flowers Online

2010-02-06T05:43:00.000-08:00

With Valentine's Day only a week away, I decided to offer this bit of advice.

How do you order flowers online?

My best advice, after designing for walk-in flower shops for 42 years is DON'T!

"Why?" you ask.

Because it's a rip-off.

When you order flowers from any of the online advertisements that pop up at the top of the page when you Google "flowers", you will pay in addition to your bouquet, a $14.99 service fee. If there is one of these call centers that doesn't charge this, I didn't find it in my research. On one site, it appeared possible that my flowers would be sent through the mail. (There is so much wrong with sending flowers through the mail I wouldn't even know where to start.)

Something to consider when you're checking out these sites is the photography they use in these ads. The pictures are absolutely stunning. The smallest arrangements appear to be large. In other words it looks like you're going to get a really nice sized bouquet for your money. This may be true with the arrangements of $100 or more, but with the cheaper ones, you need to check the dimensions of the arrangement. It's usually in fine, light print below the photo.

Many of the ones that you can buy for 39.99 are only about 12 - 13 inches tall. And don't forget that you're going to pay $14.99 service fee for a total of at least $54.98. To most people the final tally is what they've paid for their flowers. And a twelve-inch high arrangement for which you paid $54.98 is often a big disappointment.

Another thing that most people don't realize is that these photographs were taken of arrangements made with fully matured flowers. All of the lilies are wide open. All of the roses are way past bud stage and at their most beautiful. Most flower shops don't use "old" flowers. They're constantly sending flowers out and getting new ones in. So the chances of the arrangement looking like the picture that you saw online when it arrives at the recipient's door are slim. It may look like that in a few days, but even that is doubtful because they are showing you the most expensive version of that arrangement. But even the most expensive versions show more flowers than you'll actually get. I figured up one of the more popular arrangements that had a price tag of $59.99. It had over $80 worth of flowers in it.

Flowers are not cheap. Most of them cost at least $2.50 each. Roses in my town are $5 each. Those beautiful lilies you see in so many of the online sites sell for $6 -$8 a stem. One thing most people don't know about lilies is how they mature on the stem – one flower at a time.

So let's examine one of those arrangements online. Those six open lily blooms in that online arrangement, represent six stems at $6 -$8 dollars each. What this means to you, is that IF the florist who ends up with your order is going to make the arrangement according to the picture, they are going to have to cut the lead (open) bloom off of 6 stems of lilies and set the stems aside for sometimes a week before the secondary blooms open and are useable. That means the florist's money (that he's paid for those lilies) is tied up for a long time.
Most flower shops are not going to do this and they'd be foolish if they did. What it means to your $39.99 arrangement is that you are going to get one or possibly two stem of lilies, most of which are buds.

Another thing to consider is the price of delivery. With gasoline as high as it is, flower shops have all started charging for delivery. But the online services don't. So guess what? The flower shop is allowed by these online call centers to take $6 out of your money for delivery. That sets your $39.99 arrangement back to $33.99.

So let's break this down. You'll get two stems of lilies (probably two open blooms and several buds which may or may not open later) at $6 each, plus 2 roses at $5 each for a total of $22.

The vase is another consideration. They aren't free. I don't care what that ad says. At the shop I work in, I charge $7 for most of the small to medium sized vases and that includes the greenery. So we're up to $29.00. You have five dollars left for other flowers that are at least $2.50 each, so you'll get two more stems. I'd probably use some of the mini carnations at $2.25 a stem (with up to three small blooms and buds) and a stem of daisies for $3 (with up to five blooms and buds) and it's 13 inches tall. Does this sound like it's going to be eye popping beautiful for your special occasion?

Now if you think the flower shop is ripping you off, consider this. The wholesale price of the flowers used to make that $39.99 arrangement is $14. They pay me about $5 for the thirty minutes or so that it takes me to make it. They pay someone else about $7 to deliver it, so they just made a whopping $13.Actually they made nothing because the online call center charges the florist $400 a month to be a member.

These call centers are what we once called "the middle man" and as usual, he can be eliminated and save you money.

Contact a real flower shop! If you don't know the name of one in the city in which it needs to be delivered, go on line and find one. I Googled "flower shops Wichita Falls Texas" and all of our local ones came up below the "1-800" call centers. I Googled "Flower shops Dallas Texas" and put in a zip code and a more area specific list popped up.

Scroll on down and click on some of the ads. Check for physical addresses. Most flower shops have toll free numbers too, so look for them. If you don't want to call and talk to a real person, you can order from many flower shops through their own website. On these sites, you can still pick out a picture and a price that you are much more likely to be satisfied with.

On one awesome website I found in my city, they had a button that said "designer's choice" and three different price ranges. When I clicked on that, it took me to a brief questionnaire that asked if the recipient had a favorite color or a distaste for a particular flower. This site also had pictures of arrangements made in their shop through which I could browse and pick. There were buttons to add candy and balloons, too, with the prices clearly stated.

When I hit the "check out" button, instead of immediately taking me to the billing information page, it gave me an itemized list of what I'd be charged for.

But give this some consideration: An advantage to actually calling the flower shop and ordering your flowers from a real live person is that the person you talk to on the phone will feel responsible for making sure you get what he or she has promised you.

Every flower shop I've ever worked in can give you a much better bargain for your money than any of these online call centers.

I've already had a man come in looking for an arrangement that was advertised on tv. He said it had "a dozen roses and some kind of blue flower" and it was advertised for $39.99. I told him right off the bat that he's not going to get a dozen roses in any flower shop on Valentine's Day for that price. Needless to say, he walked out.

When I looked up the arrangement he'd wanted, I found that it was not roses at all. It had a dozen tulips and a dozen blue iris in a vase. When I added it up according to my shop's prices (which are considerably less than most of our competitors) it was well over $70 worth of product.

Those ads are extremely misleading. Be safe. Call or order online directly your local florist.

2010-01-20T17:24:00.000-08:00

Handling Disappointment

2010-01-17T19:02:00.000-08:00

I've been in a funk recently. I won't go into why but it came back to haunt me on Saturday. Only five people came to my happening at the library – not exactly what I expected. I felt like a fool delivering my speech to these few, especially introducing myself, but it proved to be good practice. First I read from the book and I realized that I need to shorten that. I nearly lost my voice. I also found some parts of the speech itself that I should either delete or expand upon before I use it again.

Those who came were very encouraging and consoling and afterwards we had a good conversation about writing and self-publishing.

My husband says I should have advertised it in the newspaper and next time I will.

Saturday, like my friend Monica said, was no different than any other rejection letter I've ever received. So I mentally pulled myself up out of the doldrums, shook myself off, pigged out at Cheddars with my husband and then went out to see my daughter and my new grandbaby.

Looking at the positive aspects, I didn't have to pay anything for that room at the library. And Kathy, one of the women who works at the library, asked for my address because the Burkburnett Library wants to send me a thank you for giving them a copy of Come Hell or High Water. Maybe that will open up the possibility of another signing. Also I still don't have any great amount of money tied up in this that I "need" to get back by selling books. My financial stability does not depend on book sales.

Sitting at my kitchen table early this morning, I counted my blessings as I do every day. Among these are my wonderful husband and my amazingly supportive sister. I have many great friends. Ann, Monica and Albert and Tina just happen to be the only ones who could come on Saturday. I have great kids and now I have a cute little grandson. I have two fun, funny healthy dogs who always bring a smile to my face and warm my heart. I have a beautiful home and dependable cars – all paid for in full. I have a good job to go to and regular paychecks coming in. I really have nothing to complain about. I have way too much to let Saturday get me down.

But I have to say it, "Damn you, Larry McMurtry! You should have been there!"

What does happy feel like?

2010-01-13T04:06:00.000-08:00

As I begin this beautiful clear cold winter day, my dominant intent is to get happy –in every way I can. Nothing is more important or more essential to my well-being than that I find fun, interesting, joyful things to think about and talk about. So today, regardless of where I am, what I'm doing or who is with me, I will focus on the things around me that please me. In other words, I'm gonna get happy – in every way I can.

So what does happy feel like on a day to day, minute by minute basis? Probably more pleased than displeased, more satisfied than aggravated. Happy might come when you feel the relief of letting go of or giving up a struggle that seems hopeless and has seemed so for quite a while, when you make the decision to stop worrying about anything and everything, when you finally say, "That's it. That's all I can do," or "This problem really doesn't belong to me, so why am I stressing out about it?"

Happy could be playing with a pet, touching your child or grandchild, seeing new growth on a favorite plant in the window, seeing a good mood smile on the face of a loved one. Happy comes in fleeting moments that we often don't notice or stop to appreciate.

For me it's when I see the daffodils and iris come up in my flowerbeds after a deep freeze of a winter. It comes when I see that my gold fish and koi are still alive in my pond after having a sheet of ice over it for several days. It happens when a sweet fragrance comes to me from the lilies or carnations or hyacinths, or from clean towels or sheets.

I feel happy when I have a fresh package of paper, a page of postage stamps, or a new notebook to write in.

I feel happy when I walk into my bedroom and see that I made the bed earlier. I like to stop and notice all the pretty pictures and decorations that I've put in there.

I feel the connection with happiness when I get animal pictures via email. I feel it when I see the cute faces of teddy bears and other stuffed animals.

Happy feels like seeing my new grandson come into the world and my daughter's reaction to him. It's finding those sturdy paper coffee cups that come with clamp on lids. It's cold wind blowing on my face when I'm having a hot flash. LOL! It's having a hot flash when I'm outside freezing.

We humans have a tendency to consider happiness as a long term situation, sometimes even a future goal and in doing that, we minimize the importance of or completely ignore these momentary bits of joy that can occur hundreds of times a day—if we're paying attention. Life is now. This moment right now is the only guaranteed time we have, so why spend it agonizing over current events over which you have little or no control. Look for the things that please you. You'll be surprised how many different things in life will make you smile. You might be surprised at how much better you'll feel about a whole bunch of stuff when you "get happy -- in every way you can."

The Miracle of New Life

2010-01-09T14:44:00.000-08:00

I think you could say I helped deliver my grandson, Seth Ryan Pruett, yesterday.

I had intended, if my daughter wanted me there (and she did), to be in the room, probably somewhere near her head, when Seth came into the world.

We had a lot of time to think about this upcoming event, 20 hours and 44 minutes to be exact. Everyone knows, who has ever been in the hospital and especially the women who have had babies since they started allowing anyone and everyone into the delivery room, that you might as well forget all about modesty.

The nurses warned us when they were going to check her progress, so the men could either move out or away. They covered her as much as possible while they were examining her, but it was uncomfortable for her and for the rest of us, too.

There were crude remarks made about not wanting to see that particular part of the female anatomy, about the possibility of it causing nightmares, etc. (We are rednecks around here, ya know)

When my thinking time was up, while the delivery table was uncovered exposing all it's various utensils, and the "pushing" had started, I suddenly realized I had never witnessed first hand anything being born. I'd seen it on television, but not in real life.

This was my daughter, one of the brightest lights in my life, and if I couldn't stand to see her in all her glory as she labored to give birth to this long awaited baby, then I should be ashamed to call myself a woman. This was my daughter, one of the brightest lights in my life, giving birth to my grandson. How could I pass up the opportunity to witness this miracle of life?

Her legs had not been put into the stirrups at that point because she was more comfortable with them opened but pulled up closer to her body. As soon as I took a position near her knees where I could see what was going on, she remarked about how horrible it must look. I patted her knee and said something about the fact that she looked like every other woman in the world.

When she started bearing down again, the nurse opposite me told me to hold her knee back, so I did, and I was there to see Seth come into the world. I watched from a bird's eye view as he was drawn from my daughter's body, the umbilical cord was tied off and cut, then he was laid onto his mama's chest while they cleaned him up a bit.

I was right there to see her joyous, tearful response to holding her own baby for the very first time. I was there to watch her "see" him for the first time. I was there to watch my daughter become a mother.

For the first time, I know the meaning of the phrase "Miracle of life". It is, indeed.

What's going on.

2009-12-20T05:56:00.000-08:00

I woke this morning with some pain in my neck -- nerves, I'm sure, so I took several long slow deep breaths and told myself to relax. Then I fixed my coffee just the way I like it and sat down at the kitchen table to look out the sliding glass door at my early morning yard. The light was on beside the pigeon pen casting yellow rays downward onto the stock tank and the pigeons' fly pen. On the patio, the neon 7up sign is on, painting the wooden area with a reddish tinge. All is very well with me. I'm healthy. I'm happy. Today, regardless of where I am, what I'm doing or who is with me, I will look for that which pleases me.

It's going to be a good day.

I went down to the Wichita Falls Public Library yesterday and took some flyers regarding my "happening". Becky, my contact at the library, was excited to learn that the Wichita Falls Creative Writers Group is still in existence. I must do a better job of advertising our meetings. I included our information on the flyer, so hopefully we'll get some new attendees.

I want to tell everyone that I have a new book cover designer, Regan Medlinger. My daughter, Deidre, handed the job to Regan, because according to Deidre, Regan volunteered, and she is 'very talented" (which I don't doubt one bit). Regan has designed book covers before. Also, Deidre's baby boy, Seth, will arrive shortly and she anticipates not having time to do the book cover for THE HELL ABOUT STALLIONS. I'm very excited and pleased to have Regan's help.

I shoot to cloud nine every single time someone tells me they read COME HELL OR HIGH WATER and enjoyed it. No exceptions. It happens every single time.

But I went to cloud ten last week when I recieved a Christmas card from my good friend, Trish Skillman. Trish published two novels, SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER and BURIED SECRETS through Dell and WRITING THE THRILLER through Writers' Digest Books. She was able to land an agent who sold her manuscripts to a publisher. She got an "advance", "galleys" and had proessional editors to help make the cover and the interior of her books perfect. She did it the way we old folks have dreamed of all our lives.

Trish takes writing very seriously. She founded Wichita Falls Fiction Writers in order to offer a "critique group" to help area writers improve their story telling skills.

She ordered COME HELL OR HIGH WATER from Amazon and read it. Inside her Christmas card, she wrote, "You did a terrific job of editing it and ended it in a just the right spot for a sequel." Then she said, "I feel like I just birthed a new baby. I am so proud of you."

As I said before, I love it when anyone reads and enjoys my book. This compliment coming from someone who I admire, someone who I consider knowledgeable in the field of writing has vaulted my spirits to new heights. Thank you, Trish. You made my day.

Where do doubts come from?

2009-12-05T07:18:00.000-08:00

I got up this morning, got my delicious cup of coffee and sat down to write my invitation to Larry Mc Murtry for my "Happening". I was in a good place, feeling wonderful, getting happier and happier. The words were flowing easily. All was very well, then like a damned H-bomb out of the clear blue comes "THIS IS THE STUPIDEST THING YOU'VE EVER DONE!"

It was so powerful and humiliating, I'm surprised I didn't delete the invitation and go back to bed.

Now, some of you will say, "That's because it IS stupid," but I've learned something the past few years that most people haven't figured out yet and I'm very secure in this new understanding.

I didn't have this destructive thought because inviting Larry Mc to my book signing event is stupid. I had it because all ideas that have ever been thought are still out there and active. I'd entertained that exact notion many times on a very regular basis my whole life, so naturally it felt totally comfortable popping in to, once again, torment me at this most inopportune time.

Furthermore, the feeling of humiliation that accompanied the thought was not reinforcing the fact that I shouldn't invite Larry Mc because he won't come anyway. It was communication from my broader perspective, my soul, if you want to call it that, telling me that my interpretation of this communication is not in line with all that I now know is true.

And what is it that I now know is true? That well-being abounds. It is much more prevalent than ill-being. Things are working out in my favor much more often than not. And I can invite Larry Mc to my book signing if I want to.

You youngsters won't remember that old saying from the late 60's, "if it feels good, do it." It has a lot of wisdom in it.

It feels good to invite Larry Mc so I'm going to do it. Will he come? I don't know. Will I be devastated if he doesn't? No.

Getting him there isn't the point. It's having the courage to invite him in the first place. It's realizing that we are all equal in the eyes of our creator, so why not invite him? Who knows? He might come and have a wonderful time. That's what I plan to do, whatever happens at the "Happening", regardless of who is there or who isn't. And I promise, each and every person who comes will be as welcome and as highly anticipated as Larry McMurtry himself.

So the invitation to Larry McMurtry is still on. And while I let it rest a couple of days to make sure it reads the way I want it to read, I'll be working on an invitation/flyer for wider distribution. Ya'll have a fun day.

"Get happy - in every way you can." - Abraham

I'm planning a "happening".

2009-12-04T15:50:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to announce that I am on the Wichita Falls Public Library calendar for January 16, 2010 to do a "program" and book signing. I'll have an upstairs room, 205, from 11am-1pm. The Library will advertise within the library with posters on the bulletin board etc. I'm free to advertise anyway I want, via the newspaper, flyers, emails, whatever.

The book signings I've seen going on at the books stores always seem very uncomfortable to me, so since I can do whatever I want for this two hours, I've decided to plan a "happening". I want it to sound like something that will be fun and interesting as opposed to sitting at a table looking desperate.

I want all the fun and comfort of the Turtle Creek signing plus more, more, more – more fun, more laughter, more people interested in reading Come Hell or High Water.

After doing some serious soul searching regarding this book's release, I remembered that ORIGINALLY I planned to publish it and let the Law of Attraction bring readers and buyers. But then I got all caught up in advice from writers online. I looked up the pros and cons of self-publishing – after the fact, of course, and I started feeling overwhelmed. How will it ever get noticed? What should I do next and then what?

My last thought before I went to bed night before last was "This is already turning into too much work." I don't want to work. I want to write.

Then I remembered my original commitment – to publish it and let the law of attraction take care of the rest. My only work in this endeavor is to write and to get happy in any and every way I can.

So I'm planning to start my happening by reading the first fifteen pages, so those in attendance can get to know the characters. Then I plan to speak a little bit about me, how I became a writer, some about the evolution of this book, why I decided to publish it online and the best aspects of self publishing. I'm going to have some kind of snacks and punch and coffee. I want some jivy country music going until the program starts. I'd love to have a video of the book going while people come in.

And just for shits and grins, I'm going to invite Larry Mc Murtry. Several who have read Come Hell or High Water have compared it to his work and I think he'd be a nice addition to my "happening".

Twenty years ago, I would have never even considered doing any such thing, but I'm way too old to worry about proper etiquette now. Hell, we're practically neighbors, so there's no reason whatsoever we can't be friends.

Update on Smashwords availability

2009-11-29T06:39:00.000-08:00

Smashwords, the ebook store where I published Come Hell or High Water as a purchasable download is undergoing some changes in order to sell ebooks directly through Amazon/Kindle. I received an email from Smashwords to check the status of my novel, so I did that and found that it needs to be reformatted in order to meet their criteria for distribution through Amazon/Kindle. I'm working on it, but already running into problems with the way word 2000 works. I'll get it done as soon as possible.

My First Book Signing

2009-11-29T04:47:00.000-08:00

I've always viewed book signings as something to be avoided until you're so famous no one would dare miss it. After yesterday, though, I have a new perspective.

My first book signing, which took place at the fun and interesting Turtle Creek Trading Company in beautiful down town Wichita Falls, Texas, was as much fun as writing itself. Linda and John Christoff, who hosted this party for me, served punch and cookies to all who came through the door which added a definite festive atmosphere. They were cheerful and helpful and encouraging. I deeply appreciate their interest in my project and their willingness to share space in their store for Come Hell or High Water.

We sold eighteen books, and granted, all but one were to friends and family but I know they'll spread the word.

So here's my list of things to do before a book signing. Number one and more important than anything else, get to a good feeling place regarding the fact that you're going to be sitting at a table while everyone else is standing. If that makes you feel uncomfortable, like it did me, then find ways to calm yourself before hand such as reminding yourself that it's only for the designated time. Keep in mind that your friends will show up eventually -- not every single friend you have, but enough of them that you'll feel welcome sitting at your own table.

Get comfortable with the fact that some people enjoy reading and others don't. Some people have money to spend on this kind of entertainment and some don't. Some people read your genre and some prefer something different. There will be all kinds of folks walking past. Don't be irritated if they don't purchase a book. (Believe me, it shows on your face.) Be upbeat with everyone who approaches whether they are truly interested or just mildly curious about what you have to sell.

For most of my life, I've said this about myself, "I never talk to people I don't know and I never go anywhere I've never been before by myself." A few years ago, I realized how ridiculous it is to be that scared of who I am. And that was the real problem. I was not afraid of other people. I was afraid Paula would embarrass me, that she would say something stupid that I'd have to deal with from now 'til doomsday.

At that point, I set out to change all that. I've discovered that I'm not shy with strangers because "it's just the way I am." I'm shy because I cater to being shy.

I'm a floral designer and I'm much more comfortable with someone else dealing with people, finding out what they want and then relating it to me. One of the avenues I used to change Paula into a happier, more relaxed Paula, so that I could pursue my dream of being a published best selling author, was to voluntarily wait on customers at work.

Previously, past "Hi. Can I help you?" all I needed to know was what they wanted and how much did they want to spend. Heaven forbid they want to know my name! I sure as hell didn't want them calling and asking for me and expecting me to help them decide what they need and to take care of it for them. What the hell was I getting paid for anyway? Nurse maid or flower designing?

Get the picture?

Now I start every single day counting my blessings. By that I mean I make a conscious effort to recognize and appreciate some of the things that are going right in my life, from electricity to good health. I get up early enough every morning to cater to getting into a good mood. I make myself a delicious cup of coffee and then I sit at my dining table, pet my soft-as-cotton, Sheltie and look out my back door for several minutes before I get my spiral notebook and begin writing about all the good things going on in my life.

By the time I walk into the flower shop, I feel like being friendly. I feel like helping people decide what they want. I feel good. And when I feel good, things go my way much more often than they do when I let myself be angry, apprehensive, nervous or scared.

I got up this past Saturday morning, counted my blessings, which included visualizing a totally successful book signing. Now, in my vision, I sold every book I had in my possession and took orders for more, which didn't come to fruition. After reading a blog, however, that said book signings are mostly about getting your name out there and not about selling books, I was thrilled with selling eighteen. That means eighteen people are going to read Come Hell or High Water and most of them are going to recommend it to their friends. Some of the copies will circulate among friends but that's okay. For now, I'm enjoying the fact that others are reading my book, falling in love with my characters and having a good time.

And breaking even on the cost, at this point, is icing on the cake.

2009-10-24T15:15:00.000-07:00

It's pretty cool to find your book on Amazon.com. I put in my name and it came up on the first page about four spots down, picture of the book, with the "look inside" feature activated.

I also published it on "smashwords" last night so it's now available as an ebook download. I set the price at $8 simply because I didn't have time to do any research on what others are charging for that length book, so that might change asap. On Smashwords, they recommend that you allow potential buyers to read 50% before they have to buy it, so I did that. I figure if someone's interested enough to read to that point, they are going to want to know what happens.

I'm looking into Amazon's deal to e-publish for Kindles and Smashwords has a POD called Wordclay that I'm going to investigate.

Payment on Createspace is easy. My royalties will go directly into my bank account starting at the end of November. On smashwords it's handled through paypal. I assume, since I didn't set up anything separate for Amazon, and Createspace is an Amazon company, that the Amazon sales will also go directly to my bank acct with the createspace payment.

So far, none of this process has been the least bit disappointing for me. They haven't edited anything. The only guidance they've given me came when my uploads didn't meet their requirements and then they'd tell me how to fix it. We went through 3 proofcopies with a fine toothed comb looking for mistakes and problems. I went through them completely, trying to stay tuned in to those places that made me feel uncomfortable when I read them. Usually, I think "it's okay" but this time I stopped to fix those rough places.

When I go to my createspace dashboard, it shows me exactly how many books have sold and how much money I have coming so far. I told my son "from this point, it's all down hill," and he laughed and said, "You haven't figured in your time, though."

But I know if you charged for the hours it takes to write a novel, you'd always be in the red. I love to write. Every minute I spend writing has been and always will be complete and utter joy for me, so if I never make a penny out of it, I've still spend the better part of 30 years in absolute bliss so I'm already way ahead.

Self publishing

2009-10-23T04:31:00.000-07:00

I was born a writer. Even before I could spell or use a pencil effectively, I was making up stories using my toy animals as characters. My sister, Peggy, and I, conjured elaborate plots very similar to soap-operas and built multi-level houses out of books on our bedroom floor. Peggy matured and playing little animals", as we called it, gave way to boys and dating.

I started my first novel when I was thirteen. At that age I knew very little about life or sex or romance but I wrote about it anyway. It was a disaster, to say the least, but it got me started.

I have my share of rejection letters. I read one time about an author who actually papered his walls with his rejection letters. I could have papered one wall with mine by the time I got so discouraged I quit even sending my manuscript out. The punishing maze that one has to go through to get to a publisher didn't seem to net an appropriate award to me anymore. After watching a writer friend struggle to stay on top of the heap, I decided I'd just write for my own enjoyment. I didn't much care if anyone outside my writers' critique group ever heard my stories or not.

Until now. self publishing was not an option. It was way too expensive. Also, I didn't like the "feeling " that it was either a failure or an ego trip to publish my own manuscript. Then came Print On Demand, and everything began to change -- in particular, the amount of money one has to put out in order to publish something.

So with some encouragement from friends, I published my first novel, Come Hell or High Water which is the first in a series of four stories about Revis Kirkland and his family.