Let it go!

For one week the media got on my last nerve. Cheney was involved in an accident. He mistakenly shot a good friend while on a hunting trip. Without saying a word for a few days, Cheney said a whole lot in my book. For what was three to four days, Cheney simply said, media I have priorities and you ain’t one of them.

I wholeheartedly agreed with the way things went. And I will tell you why. If I had gone on a hunting trip with a dear friend and somehow - God forbid - I shot my friend, I too would most likely be lying in a hospital bed. It would not be from a gunshot. It would be from a psychological breakdown. Did anyone out there in media land think once about Cheney’s mental state after he pulled the trigger? Obviously not. One thing I know for sure; rich and famous, a politician or just an everyday person, if you accidently shoot someone you call a friend, the last thing that would be on your mind is calling the press.

Any human being with an ounce of consciousness would be fit to be tied. That persons’ first and last concern would be the health and well being of the friend. You would fly to the hospital, you would pace the floor, you would be trying to keep from going crazy as you pray like you have never prayed before. The media? Well, you know where I would tell them to go.

Now, how can I say such things? Easy. I say it from my soul not from my pocket. I don’t give a dam what image it may give someone else. I owe no explanation for doing as the famous Spike Lee called it, the “right thing.” Has this country and all it constituents gone to hell in a hand basket? Have we all forgotten what being human entails? From the way the media acted for a week, I would say yes.

Get off your high horses and remember what your parents taught you a long time ago. Subjects called Ten commandments and Seven Deadly sins. If I have to break out the parts that apply here, you are not going to hell in a hand basket, you’re already there. I’ll pray for you.

On Another Note

I know that God, by any name we call him, would not condone the riotous acts being carried on around the world. I will not go into details on why but, I will say this. Atrocious behavior begets nothing more than condemnation from Allah, as he is known to Muslims. Yes, the cartoons were wrong. There will never be any justification for them. But tow wrongs cannot make a right. Therefore, even Mohammed, the leader that is said to be chosen by Allah, would to be enraged by what is going on.

I say to all, stop! Stop the madness! If not because it is the right thing to do, do it because Allah would want you to. Then get down on your knees and pray. Pray that peace and understanding will be forthcoming, not in the long term but, the short term. And I’ll pray with you.

Gracious, Somebody Should Rescue Me

I don’t know how others out in cyber space do this blog thing every day. Don’t they have a life? Well, I am rushing to keep you up to date on what is going on with me. The last two weeks have been busy for this old girl.

It started with my internet provider’s program. I got up last Tuesday and turned on my computer, clicked the icon for the internet and got two messages. The first one read something about my e-mail folder had a technical problem and it was restored in a new folder. I clicked the “ok” button and got another message that said something about going on. Again, I clicked the ok button and the program shut down.

That is when I began the trek through everything on my computer to troubleshoot the error. No luck. Thank God. I have a laptop. Well, on my laptop I went to the web site and looked for numbers to get to call the provider and get help on fixing the error. No luck. Not a number anywhere to call. There were a lot of FAQ sections that were designed to assist me with problems that I might incur. Again, no help. So I sent an e-mail to the technical support group.

Now, are you ready? I wrote the e-mail describing my problem and clicked the submit button and got a message that said it did not go through and go back to start. WHAT! I almost cried. After spending more than three hours on my computer’s problem and searching for help, nothing I did on the web wanted to work either. Instead of crying, I cussed and fussed as I thought of the names I would call anyone I got in touch with.

I took a break because right about that time my mother called me. She was being rushed to the hospital again. Last year in September, you remember I told you about a death in my family and my mother’s serious medical condition all occurring in one week. Well, once more she was in dire straits. It was more important for me to deal with that than my computer.

My mother and I spoke about who was going to do what and when between me and my sister Judy. Judy would take her to the hospital and I would relieve her if time went on in getting her admitted. Judy would keep me up to date on the progress. So I went back to my laptop and checked my e-mail. Wow! It did go through. The e-mail I sent to technical support sent me a three-pages of instruction on how to remedy the situation. I followed all the steps and voila, it worked. According to them, an e-mail I had received, although it did not contain any virus, had caused a technical glitch somewhere and I needed to do a special backup thing on my computer then, let the backup program download the whole program again.

I think the e-mail that caused the glitch is the one I got from a company that supplied free use to do your taxes under some government agreement. You see, the last thing I had done the night before were my taxes through the federal government web sight. I completed them, submitted them, and got a return e-mail saying when my tax refunds should be deposited into my account. It came with more messages in it and in a format that was simply promotional advertizing.

It’s a good thing I believe in never putting all your eggs in one basket. If I had, with no laptop I would have had to seek some other way to get it all together again. So, to all you laptop lovers, better go retrieve that desktop you put in storage because you never know when you too may need more than one piece of equipment to do your work.

Promises, Promises, Promises

Earlier I told you I didn’t make New Years’s resolutions, but I make promises to myself. Well, I did a book expo Saturday and must have met a ton of aspiring, new, and partly established writers. One thing I had decided I would do this year is more promotion and marketing of me and my writing capabilities. Dam! I should have locked out that thought when it first knocked on the door to my brain.

The reason being, I met new people, which meant I had to sell it. I had to sell me and my writing to new faces. Did I ever mention I hate being a saleswoman? When I think of sales, the first thing that always comes to mind is a 50's car salesman, pushy, obnoxious, annoying, irritating and a host of other things I don’t have time to list.

Here’s the problem. I am a writer. I love to write. But no one will ever know this if I don’t sell my writing. To sell it, I have to become an “in your face” type of person. I have to do it without becoming the car salesman I dislike. As I have never had any training in sales, it is one very difficult task for me. In my past life, I tried selling Avon, Amway, perfume, tupperware, and God knows how many other products with no success. I just don’t know how to hint at, suggest or convince someone to buy something they really don’t need or want but, I must make them think they do. In turn, someone hands me money and I put a book in a bag as I thank them profusely for believing in me.

There is another problem. I have read book after book on promotion that works, marketing that guarantees, and queries that convince to no avail. So I’ve been told and shown the tricks of the trade. What I haven’t learned is how to feel comfortable putting it all in practice. What am I to do when I’m suppose to talk about my work without sounding like a braggart? Yes, I know how to write and write well. What I don’t know, is how to tell the world to buy my books and anything else I put on paper to be read.

So here’s my plea. If you are reading this, pray for me. Pray that I find the courage and fortitude to do what I must. You see, if I don’t gather the strength, I’ll have to go back to a nine to five and I don’t think a job like that will give me anytime to write.