I’m excited to be going to the Swamp Cabbage Festival in my hometown of LaBelle, Florida! I’m also going to my 40th high school reunion the same weekend–yes I told on myself and I can’t believe it has been 40 years. Wow. The old cliche’ is true: Where has the time gone? I hope to see you there!
It’s alive! It’s alive! On Kindle, that is.
The print book should be available next Friday, barring any formatting issues!Kindle
Recently I took a short online course in order to focus on what I should do next. So I had to ask my friends to use three words to describe me. Throughout the posts, I got a clear direction.
I really care about people. I see all kinds of people suffering, struggling, and just trying to cope. Heck, I’ve been there and I am there. But the story doesn’t end there in the depths. In the midst of the struggle or after, we find ways to survive and even thrive.
Do we really know each other anymore, though? We have this convenient way to keep in touch, to share pictures and stories with our “friends”. But it’s so shallow, really. I admit that since I don’t get out much (Fibromyalgia and more), this is about the only way I can keep in touch with people and boy is it addictive.
But I feel compelled to do more. I could tell my stories all day long, but truthfully I am sick of concentrating on myself. I often put me in a time out. I send myself to my room for having a bad attitude!
I want to hear and tell your stories. I want to sit down with you in person, get to know you, then write about you. I don’t have to use your real name. I want to hear about your history, your tears, fears, and what brings you joy. I know some people who have had a double or triple portion of grief. How do you cope?
Will you share with me? Will you allow me to share your life with others who might be helped by knowing someone who looks like you…hurts? Sometimes we only see a person who looks all put together, not a hair out of place, maybe driving a nice car, living in a nice house, etc. A beautiful profile on Facebook shows only smiling faces.
Let’s get real.