Adventures in Traveling

To give you insight into the writer's mind (and woes), I started this blog post last November. November people. Since then, I've been pulled in 800 directions but all good! Two books in the works and another announcement coming soon. Anyway, here's my unfinished blog post:

One of my favorite romance authors is constantly flying to book signings and events. She posts lovely pictures from the plane window, and I think, "How glamorous and sophisticated. I'll feel like that the next time I fly!"

No. Not how it works for me.

First of all, I'm me so not glamorous or sophisticated. Not saying this is a problem. I like me, but glamorous and sophisticated, those are not adjectives that describe me. Goofy. Playful. Sometimes very crabby. Much more appropriate.

Secondly, I'm not jetsetting somewhere for a book signing or appearance. I'm traveling for training related to my day job. On a side note, if someone in Hollywood would like to buy the movie rights to All From Dreams, I could seriously crank out the next books (possible movies) in the series much faster. It's a goldmine. Seriously. You want this. Just sayin'...

So in light of these things, my flying experience has been... interesting...

I dragged one of my friends out at an ungodly hour to take me to the airport so I wouldn't have to leave my car at the airport for the week. The pair of us looked like zombies as we made our way to the airport in the pitch black of the morning.

I told her she didn't have to stop to let me out, just slow down and I'd tuck and roll with my suitcase. She was nice enough to stop.

Once inside, I asked the same question about four times of each person, my sleep-deprived brain not registering what people are saying to me.

Because I just had surgery on my wrist, I thought it best to wrap my wrist up to protect it and make it obvious I have an injury (maybe I wanted some sympathy, maybe I wanted help with my luggage since I'm not supposed to lift more than 10 pounds yet). Evidently, a bandage means you have to be checked with the wand, your injured limb groped, and hands swabbed for possible explosive material residue. The TSA employee was professional and nice and tried to be gentle, but gack!!! Ouch!

I flew out of a small airport so no troubles finding my gate. Made my flight without trouble and sat next to a nice young man.

Okay. That's as far as I got. I had a whole, long, brilliant, fun continuation to the story, but um... it's February. The only other thing I remember is giving my card with my author info out to some people and the guy sitting next to me on the plane on the way back actually holding my hand because we (I) thought the plan was going down. He was really nice. I was sad to learn he was married. Anyway... I'm traveling again at the end of this month. God help us all.

Gratitude

Indulge me, friends, if you please.

Today, I'm sitting on my bed in yoga pants (which I totally bought for sitting around the house instead of doing yoga) and binging on Firefly on Netflix while drinking dark roast coffee with sugar-free Smores syrup. Now tell me that's not the lap of luxury!

It's an afternoon in stark contrast to Saturday when I watched lights flicker on and off as rain and wind from Hurricane Matthew battered the state where I live (South Carolina). My area was very fortunate. Downed trees and some minor flooding - not like last year's 1000-year-flood. By the way, I get that people call it that because it was the worst flooding South Carolina has seen in a thousand years, but every time I hear the term, I think they mean it's been flooding for a thousand years.

Anyway... The point I'm working up to is how grateful and blessed I feel today. And to say how broken my heart is for areas not so lucky. It's on us now to find ways to help. I can't get on a plane and fly to Haiti and help rebuild homes, but I can support organizations that do. That's what I'm doing. Sometimes I can volunteer. Sometimes I can't. But I can almost always support aid in one way or another.

What can you do?

What's Happening With That Bethanie Chick?

Some updates:

The Seodrassian Chronicles - I have not abandoned them. I got Book Two back from beta readers with some great feedback. Back into edits, she goes! I want each book in this series to be the absolute best I can make it for my readers, so please bear with me.

Sweet Romances - Yes. I write sweet romances as well. I'm working on a series of related, yet standalone sweet contemporary romance novels, but those will be published under a different pen name. Why? It's not a secret, but I don't want fans of The Seodrassian Chronicles to buy a sweet romance expecting a fantasy and be upset when they realize the difference. Or vice versa. Book One of that series is about ready to go to the editor this week.

Private life - That's private. Mind your own business. Kidding. There are some things I can share. I'm having wrist surgery later this month so that will hamper my writing plans. I normally participate in National Novel Writing Month, but won't be able to this year because of the recovery. Bummer. I am still, however, going to be participating in my 24-hour charity gaming marathon through Extra Life for Children's Miracle Network Hospitals. The official date was supposed to be 11/5, but with my surgery, I've decided to do it early. I'll post details as they come.

Also... Evidently, people love these things called podcasts. That being said, I might have joined a podcast group. Want to hear the crazy writer chick talk? Follow us! I've included the link to the first podcast I participated in, but I'll be joining others. There's another from this awesome group about Pokeman Go. Fun stuff!

http://thedragonrocketship.libsyn.com/suicide-squad-deadpool-marvel-vs-dc-movies 

So as you can see, I got a lot of irons in the fire. Hang on to your butts.

Tales from the Bathroom (yes, you read that right)

Bear with me. Trying to be super-duper, fancy-dancy by writing on an app instead of my laptop like a hipster. I wanna be cool like everyone I see at Starbucks. Anyway...

Recently, I had the great privilege of participating in a podcast. While talking to this fun group of geeks, I told a bathroom story (bonus content for the tenacious listener, by the way). As I used the bathroom at the drug store, I realized I had posted about an encounter in a bathroom in an earlier blog post. Then I thought of the amount of times I post rants about public bathrooms to one of my private Facebook groups. This made me pause. Why am I so fascinated with public bathrooms? Should I seek professional help? Maybe. But c'mon, public bathrooms are weird.

Why does one decide to carry on a super personal phone call while sitting on a toilet in a public restroom? You can't control other people's flushes or, God forbid, bodily function sounds. I could write a whole blog post about that alone (I heard someone yell, "Dear Lord!" in the bathroom stall next to me, and it took me three minutes to realize she was on the phone and not just exclaiming about her business).

And I witness some very personal conversations in there. I think this happens more in women's bathrooms than men's, but I can't swear to that since I don't spend much time in men's bathrooms. Lots of gossip in women's bathrooms. Enough so that my office building posted a no loitering sign in the downstairs bathroom. I promise I'm not making this up.

But what fascinates me is when business goes down in there.

"Wow! What a great work-related idea you've had! Why don't you give me your business card? Um... AFTER you've washed your nasty, peebody hands."

I've gleaned valuable life lessons from the bathroom. The most important is this: Poop is the other great equalizer on life. Everyone has to poop, and no looks hoity-toity sitting on the toilet. We're all the same. There's death and poop.

Guess it only makes sense I'd be preoccupied with bathrooms.

Wisdom through Age or Sheer Crankiness?

I was washing my hands in the bathroom when a twenty-something I know came in and brushed her teeth, apologizing for reasons I don't understand. The conversation went something like this:

Twenty-something: Sorry! I just hate feeling like when I talk to people they can smell my coffee breath.

Me: That's adorable. I'm like, 'If you can smell my breath, you're too close.'"

Twenty-something:.....

Me: What?

Twenty-something:.....

Me: (after washing my hands) Laterz.

The exchange prompted me to imagine my twenty-something self, and I realized, apart from the very hygienic teeth-brushing, I was like her to some extent. I was careful not to ruffle feathers or step on toes. Now people I know are laughing at this saying, "Yeah, right." And it was true, get me talking about a social injustice or a political belief, and all bets were off. With other aspects of my life, though, I could be very timid. Like most, I wanted people to like me, and I was self-conscious about some aspects of my looks and demeanor.

With age does truly come some wisdom. And with wisdom, comes some confidence. Do I have moments of insecurity now that I hit 40? Of course, I do, but I won't apologize for having an opinion or a voice.

I was one of those women who would go into a business meeting and apologize for any suggestion or comment. Every sentence started with, "I'm sorry, but..." Now, I use tact, but I don't apologize unless I've made a mistake or truly feel regret. I share my opinion, and if it doesn't work to solve a problem, no big deal. I do my best not to take it personally.

I regress occasionally (like with my subsidiary company's president when he looks perplexed at something I said), but I do a lot better. Most of that, I attribute to the life experience that comes with my age. With the filter of life experience, I recently read an article about how women tend to apologize for everything, including their own ideas. Not me. Not anymore.

That means, though, that I have to be prepared for the consequences when I'm wrong. Now that I know I won't curl up and die when things go south, I'm more willing to take calculated risks.

 I'm not old, but I'm older. I don't want to be a twenty-something again. I like who I am now. I've been through tough times and learned from them. I'm blessed with knowing who has my back and who doesn't. Even better, I'm in a position in life to support others.

With that in mind, I hope Twenty-something learns to stop apologizing soon. That young woman in the bathroom is brilliant and sweet and sure to have a bright future. I'll be keeping an expectant eye on her for big things. And I hope to be someone she can say helped her learn to stop apologizing for existing.

Is Two Years Between Posts Too Long?

Recently, I had the pleasure of attending a writing conference. By pleasure, I mean there was crying and teeth-gnashing and last minute doubts, even as I sat in the car in the parking lot deciding whether or not to go in the building. In the end, I went in, late, of course. The first panel already underway (the early bird panel I SIGNED UP FOR), I checked in and received my name tag and materials for other sessions. I vomited apologies on the woman checking me in. She smiled and reassured me, the smile genuine. Eventually I blurted, "Today's two years since my mom died."

The genuine smile morphed into genuine sympathy. She stepped out from behind the table and hugged me. My throat clogged, and my vision blurred, but I accepted the hug with mumbled thanks before darting into the first session.

I spent the day talking to like-minded writers, listening to fantastic panelists, and learning more about social media. Evidently, two years between blog posts is too long. My only real defense is that every time I opened my blog, I saw my last post which was written about sitting in the hospital with my mom before she died.

But it's been two years now, and my mom always supported my writing. She'd be excited to know I have one published novel, two in edits, and four more first-draft manuscripts completed.

So I'm forging ahead with my blog. I won't say I'm picking up where I left off. I won't subject anyone to two years' worth of my rambling thoughts all at once. I'm starting here and moving forward. Sometimes, I think the best we can do is stop trying to make up for lost time, and learn from it, instead.

Capture today.