High Heels and Butterflies

A new study revealed that women who wore high heels while shopping were likely to spend less than women in comfortable shoes. Some women might use this theory to rationalize buying expensive stilettos as a good investment. This could only lead to trouble in the shopping malls.

Just when I thought that I had heard every abbreviation imaginable for embarrassing conditions, I saw an ad for Butterfly, "A new kind of discreet protection for ABL (accidental bowel leakage). Butterfly adheres securely and invisibly in the buttocks, giving you a new kind of protection you can count on."

The ad features a youthful fifty three year old smiling woman. Would she still be smiling if she tripped in her high heels, and had a Butterfly lodged up in her heinie? What if this woman was also suffering from OAB (overactive bladder)? Then she would likely be sporting a Poise prevention pad. A bad fall could cause it to disappear into the abyss. How would the ER doctors decide which end to operate on first?

Between Stayfree, Always, Tena/Serenity, Poise and now Butterfly, women will be faced with even more challenges as to what goes where. As for men who also suffer from ABL, otherwise known as ESM (excessive skid marks), I suggest a masculine body liner in the shape of a catcher's mitt aptly named Stayhome.

A Ninja, A Ghost and A Freelance Editor

The writer sat at his computer eager to embark on his novel. A sudden wave of thirst swept over him, so he decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. He spotted a hummingbird at the kitchen window. He glanced up to see another hummingbird next to it. He wondered if there was a nest outside, and had to get a closer look. The writer quickly slipped on his shoes before stepping out on the patio. He reached in his pocket to snap a shot with his cell phone, when he realized it was still in the house. Then he saw that the wind had blown the backdoor shut, so he reached into another pocket for the key. How could his key and cell phone both be missing from his coat pockets? Then he saw his reflection in the patio door window. The writer was locked out of his house wearing only his bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon. Oh well, he would just have to hide in the bushes for a few hours until his wife came home from work. If only the skunk hadn't gotten there first....

This is where our friend Nick Wilford,  Freelance Editor comes in. He could turn any stinky story into a rose.

With the unstoppable rise of self-publishing, it’s easier than ever to put your words and stories out there in the world. This is a great thing, and I’m all for it. However, it’s not just about the story - although of course, that is the most important part - but the way it’s presented. After spending months or years on a novel, building an incredible world and honing your characters and storylines to perfection, the last thing you want is to be let down by a lack of editing. It’s just as important as an arresting cover image.

Nick Wilford, Freelance Editor is a one-stop shop for affordable editing, proofreading and formatting services. With professional training and ten years of experience as a journalist and editor, the time has come to transfer these skills in order to help out the fellow authors I have come to love.

But it doesn’t stop there. I’m ready to edit anything; from a crucial term paper, to memoirs and other non-fiction books, short stories, articles or job application letters. Let me put that finishing touch on your masterpiece.

Feel free to take a look at my  website  for further details of my services and prices.

   
Nick Wilford is a writer, freelance editor and stay-at-home dad. Fascinated by words from a young age, he trained as a journalist before embracing the calling of fiction. When not writing he can usually be found spending time with his family or cleaning something. He has four short stories published in Writer’s Muse magazine. Nick is also co-running a campaign to get a dedicated specialist college built in Scotland.  
                             

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Another friend and IWSG member Julie Flanders is about to come out with her second book in a year. Not only would Julie have motivated this character to focus on his writing, but after reading The Ghosts of Aquinnah, he would have been too terrified to venture outside his home.

                         

A brilliant flash of light transcends through time.

Another freezes a cloaked figure within a frame of salty mist as waves crash against a rocky shore. Her harrowing expression shadows the beacon to a pinprick.

By the next blaze, she is gone. Only the lighthouse remains.

Hannah’s eyes blink in step with each heartbeat. Images of her deceased parents and Martha’s Vineyard explode like firecrackers inside her mind.

She shakes her head.

For weeks this eerie woman dressed in nineteenth century garb has been haunting my webcam, but tonight she stared into my soul.

Why? ...

Who is she? ...

Casting aside months of research on historic lighthouses, Hannah drives to the coast and boards a ferry.

What is the strange connection she has to this mysterious woman suspended in time?

Hannah finds out.

But, it’s not at all what she expects ...

Hannah unravels a century old murder.

The Ghosts of Aquinnah

will be released by Ink Smith Publishing

on December 5, 2013

Julie Flanders is a novelist and freelance writer in Cincinnati, Ohio. She has a life-long love affair with the ocean and has spent more summer vacations than she can count on the island of Martha’s Vineyard. When not writing, Julie can be found reading, cheering on her favorite sports teams, and watching too much television. She is an animal lover and shares her home with her dog and cat.

                                                                      

                                                          Find Julie at:

Website ~ Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter

Pinterest ~ Goodreads

Be sure to visit Julie and  Nick. Just think that  Alex J. Cavanaugh  brought us all together to read, write, and fight the war against poor punctuation.

Calling In The Senior Fixer

     

                                                        

 On Ray Donovan,  Liev Schreiber stars as a professional "fixer" to some of LA's most powerful players, while struggling to keep his own family together. Jon Voight plays his criminal father who was just released from prison. They are both multi-dimensional characters, though Ray has to memorize a lot less dialogue.

Some of Ray's duties include: silent intimidation, fighting bad guys, hiding bodies, gathering blackmail material, and having short but meaningful conversations in his walk-in closet that is larger than most people's homes.When one of his client's threatened to let him go he replied in his gruff  Boston accent, "I'm not the kind of guy people fire."

This made me think of my own special skills. Instead of  packing a pistol, I was armed with an AARP card. Yes I had all of the unofficial requirements for being a senior fixer. Like Ray, I was always up to the challenge. If my mom needed to know what time and channel her favorite TV show was on she called me. If she didn't remember to hang up the phone after she called, I would find a way to get the message to her. Soon she told her friends about my skills. When they didn't care, I flew fourteen hours to see my mother-in-law.

I noticed that she was more frail than she had been just a few months earlier. After she had gone to take a nap, my husband and I waited for her in the living room. While my husband talked, I moved from the dining room table to the living room couch. The couch was too low, and the chairs were too stiff. Then I realized that if I was uncomfortable, a ninety year old woman who weighed about eighty two pounds would be in agony. Truth be told, you would have to be built like a Kardashian to sit comfortably on any of her furniture for more than a few minutes.

My husband's aunt recommended a store that specialized in supportive chairs for people with back injuries. We tested the height, and arm placement to insure that my mother-in-law would be able to sit, as well as rise with relative ease. The store promised that the chair would be delivered the following week. They lied.

We found out that the chair still hadn't arrived almost two weeks later. I immediately went into Ray Donovan mode. I threatened, made inappropriate gestures, and even chugged some chocolate milk. Then I grabbed the remote control, and held it over the toilet during the Chicago Bears game until my husband made the call.

When my mother-in-law finally got her comfortable recliner, she regained some of her energy. She thanked my husband and me up and down, and sounded more like herself. Sure Ray brings home a larger suitcase of cash than I do, but that's not going to stop me from pestering seniors to help them help me feel better about myself.

The Storm of the Century

In case you've been living under a rock, I'm pleased to announce that CassaStorm, the final installment of Alex J. Cavanaugh's thrilling space opera trilogy is finally here. Since Alex gave everyone the opportunity to ask a question, I decided to delve deep into uncharted territory. 

I asked him what his middle initial "J." stood for. Surely his explanation would  reveal what drove him to become an award winning author, mentor, friend, and leader of the blogging community. It would also explain his love of science fiction. Just as I was about to introduce Alex "Jedi" Cavanaugh, he unveiled his middle name as "Joseph." Then it all started to make sense. The soundtrack from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat began playing in my mind. Alex is all about making the author's and insecure writer's dreams come true. He also never leaves his followers starving for attention

CassaStorm

By Alex J.  Cavanaugh     

From the Amazon Best Selling Series!

A storm gathers across the galaxy…

Commanding the Cassan base on Tgren, Byron thought he’d put the days of battle behind him. As a galaxy-wide war encroaches upon the desert planet, Byron’s ideal life is threatened and he’s caught between the Tgrens and the Cassans.

After enemy ships attack the desert planet, Byron discovers another battle within his own family. The declaration of war between all ten races triggers nightmares in his son, threatening to destroy the boy’s mind.

Meanwhile the ancient alien ship is transmitting a code that might signal the end of all life in the galaxy. And the mysterious probe that almost destroyed Tgren twenty years ago could return. As his world begins to crumble, Byron suspects a connection. The storm is about to break, and Byron is caught in the middle…

“With a talent for worldbuilding and a compelling cast of characters, Alex J. Cavanaugh combines high powered space battles and the challenges of family dynamics to provide readers a space opera with heart.”
- Elizabeth S. Craig, author of the Southern Quilting and Myrtle Clover mysteries

“I thought the revelation was going to be one thing and I was completely wrong … CassaStorm pushes the limits…”
- Tyson Mauermann, Speculative Reviews

“…mesmerizing story of survival, personal sacrifice, tolerance, and compassion. It’s a rare jewel that successfully utilizes both character and plot to tell a story of such immense scope and intimate passion…” - Nancy S. Thompson, author of The Mistaken

$16.95 USA, 6x9 Trade paperback, 268 pages, Dancing Lemur Press, L.L.C.

Science fiction/adventure and science fiction/space opera

Print ISBN 9781939844002 eBook ISBN 9781939844019

$4.99 EBook available in all formats

Find CassaStorm:

Barnes and Noble

Amazon

Amazon Kindle

Goodreads

Book trailer

Alex J. Cavanaugh has a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and works in web design and graphics. He is experienced in technical editing and worked with an adult literacy program for several years. A fan of all things science fiction, his interests range from books and movies to music and games. Online he is the Ninja Captain and founder of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group. The author of the Amazon bestsellers, CassaStar and CassaFire, he lives in the Carolinas with his wife.

Website – http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com/

Twitter – http://twitter.com/AlexJCavanaugh

Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4287922.Alex_J_Cavanaugh

Find Alex - Blog, Twitter, and Goodreads

Visit Alex's blog for your chance to win - books, mouse pads, mugs, magnets, posters, and more! 

Strange Stirrings In The Bedroom

Shortly after we were married, I awoke from a loud noise. At first I turned to see if it also startled my husband, but he was fast asleep. As I inched toward him, the noise grew louder. It sounded like a giant rat was scratching behind our bedroom door. Since we lived in a high rise, it was unlikely that a rat found it's way into our apartment, but I was still scared.

I grabbed a flashlight, and began my search. I wanted to make sure that no other creature had slithered up eighteen flights for a midnight snack. What if it had been hiding behind the wall before we moved in, and was plotting a surprise attack?

I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to wake up my husband. He'd know what to do. Just as I started nibbling on his neck to stir him, I heard more nibbling. It was coming from my husband.

When did he have time to get up for a snack while I was running around in the dark like a lunatic? I was trying my best not to disturb him, and he was off raiding the fridge. Yes I was a young bride determined not to scare off her groom, but enough was enough already. I turned the light on, and saw that he was sleep chewing. Now I had a craving for some crunchy nuts. Wait a minute, what if he choked to death?

I scrubbed my hands like a surgeon before I opened his mouth to take a closer look. There was nothing. I even went underneath his tongue to see if he stored some extra nuts away like a squirrel, but it was empty. Not only was he still sleeping, but the noise continued. When I decided to go back in for another look, he caught me in the act. When I explained that I was looking for the lost nuts, he assured me that there weren't any. That's when we both realized that he was grinding his teeth.

Soon he was fitted for a mouth guard, and the grinding stopped. Next came braces for both of us. I wore the tops, while he wore the bottoms. We lived in fear of locking braces, which only ignited our passion. By the time things finally quieted down, the snoring began. It is amazing that this thrill seeking couple managed to have two children together.
   

IWSG: Serving Up A Savory Story

                                                                         

Congratulations to Alex J. Cavanaugh on the second anniversary of the  Insecure Writer's Support Group.  The group has grown to over three hundred participants, and continues to flourish. I've watched many of the writer's become published authors over the last two years, and would like to finally fulfill my dream of writing a novel. As tomorrow begins the Jewish New Year, I can't help but equate the essentials of a good story to the ingredients of a traditional Rosh Hashanah feast.

The prologue sets the tone for the story. You want to provide just enough to whet their appetites for more. A little chopped liver goes a long way spread out on a slice of challah. At first the gefilte fish complements the liver; however, there's no telling if things will erupt later.

The most difficult part about serving the soup is in making sure it is the right temperature. Although the broth tastes better when it's hot, it's important not to overheat the matzo balls. This could bring on severe shrinkage which draws more attention to the lopsided noodle.

The secret to preparing the brisket is adding the right amount of savory spices. You want it to be mild for your parents, sweet for your kids, and to have just enough bite for your contemporaries. The potatoes are the loyal sidekick. They are there to support the main course, while the squash and green bean casserole conspire a takeover. The squash goes down smoothly, as the casserole teases us by slowly peeling off crunchy layers. By this time you're too full to fight, thus leaving the potatoes out in the cold.

Being over-served usually works one of two ways; you either pass out at the table, or you keep going in fear of not regaining consciousness from a food coma. There's a two dessert minimum followed by a caffeine fix. We toast to a sweet New Year, and hope that everyone leaves before the gefilte fish kicks in. It could take hours or even days which always makes for a surprise ending.

Happy and healthy New Year!

For The Sake Of Arguing

                                                                      
                                                               

The phone rang just as I was about to leave the house.
Mom: It's raining hard now, so you don't have to take me to physical therapy.
Me: But it was raining earlier.
Mom: Yes, but I'll just cancel my appointment. That way you won't get wet.
Me: You weren't worried about that before. I told you I don't mind. Besides, I made you lunch and didn't you want to go shopping first?
Mom: Yes, but it's too much trouble going back and forth in the rain.
Me: It's not coming down as hard now and don't you think you need the therapy to get stronger?
Mom: Well if it's not too much trouble.

Later that afternoon my mom told me that I really should be more patient.

This made me think about other ridiculous arguments I've had throughout the years. Shortly after I started driver's ed, my dad suggested that I drive to work. As I was pulling out of the driveway, my mom came home. She hopped in the back seat, while my dad sat by my side. All was calm, until I had to make a left turn without an arrow. My dad was telling me to be assertive and speed up before the light changed, while my mom was telling me to slow down. Instead, I got so nervous that I backed out of the intersection and waited for the next light. Needless to say, neither of my parents volunteered to take me driving again.

The summer my younger son turned thirteen was during travel baseball season, so we decided to have a little celebration after the game. We ordered pizzas, and brought a cooler filled with soft drinks for the team. Earlier that evening I asked my husband to pick up a few bags of ice for the cooler at McDonald's. He asked me how much it would cost. I told him 99 cents a bag. Then he wanted to know how much other places in the area were charging. I assured him that 99 cents was the best rate in the Chicagoland area  and that if he wanted to miss his son's birthday to scout for 97 cent bags of ice in Wisconsin, I'm sure that he would understand. Of course, he still had to make some calls just in case there was a fire sale on ice at the end of July. It took me a long time to thaw out from that whole experience.

After all these years, my mother still puts her foot on the imaginary passenger side brake whenever I make a left turn. As for my purchasing power, I'm in charge of finding the best deals on cars and the occasional travel destination, but I never go further than my freezer for ice.


This is a repost from November 2011. In a few days we will be visiting my mother-in-law, so I'll have limited Internet access. I look forward to catching up with everyone at the end of the month.