What I hope for in the New Year

Closeness. Peace. A decent haircut.

I'm thinking about doing a "Julie & Julia" type blog where I date my way through three major dating search engines.  (should I? shouldn't I?)

I'm hoping I can keep my fingernails in better shape.

Oh and loose ten pounds. Guess we have to put that in there.

But there's something about a new year that is full of hope. A clean slate. Starting again.

I hope that things continue to go well with my book sales. I'd love to be able to quit the "day job" and help out more with my elderly parents (who are doing great right now, but I want to be sure I'm ready in case I need to take care of them.)

New Year's Book Giveaway Blog Hop

Welcome to the year of writing dangerously!
I'm pleased to be participating in the giveaway blog hop, which is hosted by "I Am a Reader, Not a Writer" blog and Bab's Book Bistro (don't you just love that name? A lot of alliteration. I love it. Say it three times fast)

Here's the 4-1-1 and tips on how you can WIN free stuff.
First, everyone who leaves a comment on this blog will get a coupon code for a FREE electronic copy of my latest novel, "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves" (what better for the new year?) You can read a bit more about it--including a sample chapter--- here.

Second, all of those who leave a comment will be entered into a drawing to win a FREE hardcover copy of "Traveling Light" by Max Lucado OR "Love" by Toni Morrison. (winner's choice). I am giving the winner a choice because, in the interest of full disclosure, "Traveling Light" is a religious book. I love Max Lucado (particularly his "Applause of Heaven") and while I make no apologies for my beliefs, I do NOT want anyone to think they were being "back-door evangelized," so if you'd prefer (or if you've already read the Lucado book) you can have a hardcover copy of "Love" by Toni Morrison. I think both authors write with an intense sense of imagery and emotion---so please feel free to pick the one you wish. (Though please be aware that the Morrison book is PG-13).

Not trying to offend anyone, just keeping it real.

PLUS if you've happened to land here on or before the 30th, you've got a special treat....right now my first novel, "Saint Jude," (which is about a young adult with bipolar disorder) is FREE on Amazon throughout December 30. It's a part of some promo thing I'm working on, so if you want to get a free copy for your Kindle, just click here and (hopefully) enjoy!

So in short:
1. Leave a comment to get a FREE e-copy of "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves"
2. When you leave a comment, please leave your e-mail addy OR, if you prefer to send it privately, you can send it to me at dawndeannawilson@gmail.com
3. All those who comment will be placed in a drawing to win a hardcover book: either "Traveling Light" by Max Lucado OR "Love" by Toni Morrison (winner's choice).
4. I will post a video of me drawing the name of the winner from a hat (I know it's hokey, but I love the theatrical) .
5. I will contact that winner via e-mail to get his/her snail mail addy and send the book of his/her choice.

Also, I do NOT send your e-mails, addresses, etc. to some kind of spam list, because 1) that is just not cool 2) I wouldn't know how to do that anyway and 3) that is totally rude.

So...read the sample chapter of my "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves" right here if you want to see if it's your cup of tea (I've had a blast writing it and I really do think you'll enjoy it). Hang around a bit. I'll talk about some of my favorite characters I created for the book, and I'll talk to you about HOW I came up with the characters.  So have some coffee. Have fun. Chill out. Follow my blog because I'm insecure and need validation...
But last, and CERTAINLY not least, PLEASE visit the other blogs on this list to get other chances to win cool free stuff.
And on behalf of writers everywhere---thank you. Writing can be a solitary profession, and it's great to connect with readers.

Cool Maya Angelou Quote

I love this quote:

"Life is pure adventure,
and the sooner we realize that,
the quicker we will be able to treat
life as art."

A Cool Christmas Video

Merry Christmas to my friends, readers and followers---no matter your faith---know that at this time when I celebrate the birth of my Savior that I am thankful for you and the many, many blessings I have.

I have so much more than I even remotely deserve. We are loved far beyond our capacity to imagine.

I wanted to leave you with this.

Kindle and e-Publishing 4-1-1--plus writing tools

I finally did it.

So many people have asked me about the indie e-publishing movement and how to get on board and self publish their book that I’ve actually made a link to a short guide on my website.

So in celebration of the 99-cent indie book blowout (click icon to the right), I’ve posted a link to this quick guide.

You can find it here:

Kindle 4-1-1

But before you go there, I highly suggest you review some of the great tips (new for some, a refresher for others) from my creative writing classes at this link:

The Write Tools

One important caveate about self publishing on Kindle—and author JA Konrath said it best in this article from USA Today:

But before you quit your day job to become a best-selling e-book writer, Konrath points out that the vast number of books released in any form, print or e-book, don't sell. To become a successful writer, talent, hard work and self-promotion are important. But publishing remains, at heart, a lottery. "I've always had that caveat. You have to get lucky," he says

Link to the full article is: here

Though that may sound discouraging, it does hit on one note:

We write because we love to write. It’s fun. It’s cheaper than therapy. The bottom line is we continue to write, whether we become writer millionaires or not. There’s got to be a love for the process.

And why does it seem that so many books / discussions about writing deal with the publishing or e-publishing process and not the craft of writing? That’s like wanting to be an Olympic figure skater and obsess over what network will carry the Olympics instead of perfecting your figure skating.

What is it like finishing a book?

Exciting. Frustrating. A relief. A terror.
Maybe a bit gassy.
Maybe all of the above.

I'm very excited about the release of my next book-- "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves"--(no relation to the movie that is also coming out about New Year's Eve---though (expletive) I have been working on this novel  for the past three years)

But what's it like to finish a book? Some writers have routines. They do something. They treat themselves.
Some get emotional and cry.
What do you do?
Well...
...for me I have kind of a state of shock. I feel like I've just gotten off a really bad carnival ride--one of those that thrashes you around. It's like a wave of relief followed by...now what?  In many ways, after the final edit, the work continues. You have to put it out in the world. You wonder if anyone will like it. You wonder if it will play well with others, eat its vegetables, and wear its boots in the rain.
You treat it like a child.
And there's the contradiction. It's not a child. It's a thing, but it's a living breathing thing.
For me, I get the shakes. Kind of like the adrenaline dump that you get after being in a minor fender bender. I have a moment of surreal...what just happened?

It's like the dog who chased the car for three years finally caught it.
What did I catch?
You can read the first chapter for free at www.carrawaybaypress.com. 
The book is 99 cents through...well, New Year's Eve as a part of the Indie Book Collective Promo.

SHOULD I have a routine when I finish a book? Any suggestions? What do you do? Should it be a major deal, like the writer in "Misery" who ceremoniously has a cigarette and a bottle of expensive wine? Should it be something crazy like putting on a pink wig and doing karaoke night?
I don't know.
Maybe the ceremony for me is that there is no ceremony. Maybe because I feel through promotions that I will still be dealing with these characters.
But I'm open for suggestions....

WHEW!!! It's done!!! Ten Thousand New Year's Eves is now on Kindle

Thank God!

It's a strange feeling, finishing a book---but that's really an entire post in itself.
Long story short, I finally found a new cover (I like it better than the one below) and the book is already up on Kindle. I'm selling it for 99 cents until Jan. 2---and I'll be participating in a giveaway where folks can get free copies in mid December. I'll also start shopping around the print rights in the new year.

I'll be posting excerpts, etc. in a couple of weeks.
Meanwhile-- "like" me by following the Amazon link (if you please) and celebrate the release with me.

"Imagine this: It's New Year's Eve and you're at a party, in a ballroom, standing beneath a crystal chandelier. At midnight, you look up. On each piece of cut crystal you see an image of someone else's New Year's Eve. In "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves," Dawn DeAnna Wilson shines a light through that chandelier, illuminating a handful of random (or are they?) characters, luring us in, drawing the lines, revealing a simple but powerful truth--we are all connected."
-----Billie Hinton, author, "claire-obscure"






About the book:


Mallory has a neurological condition which causes her to see certain letters in different colors and taste certain flavors whenever she hears sound. The condition is synesthesia, and researchers believe it may be caused by overlapping brain neurons...but try explaining that to her well-meaning but clueless friend Rochelle, who seems to be more concerned with rescuing animals. 

Rochelle takes Mallory to New York City for New Year's Eve to help Mallory forget about the man she has a crush on, and en route to city, their paths intersect other pilgrims seeking a new beginning, including:

Stephen, a washed-up contemporary Christian singer who has "crossed over" to mainstream rock music and is expected to perform in Times Square on New Year's Eve.

Tad, a NYPD wannabe who never finished police academy due to a bad knee.

River, a tree-hugging kayak enthusiast who believes she's in love with Poseidon, the god of the sea.

David, a psychologist who is conducting extensive research about synesthesia...and Mallory...

Wendy, a teenage gospel singing sensation who is madly in love with her minster's nephew, but she cannot tell him the truth about a past relationship.

Liam, a blind man who is not what he seems.

Kelso, a nervous German Shepherd and former police dog who has been traumatized by an event in his past.

The novel takes the reader from North Carolina to Atlanta to New York City, illustrating that all things are bound together in a web of life---all things connect. What we do to the web, we do to ourselves.

On short hiatus for rest of November---why? You'll see

I am participating in TWO major promos for my upcoming novel "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves." The book is finished, though the last three chapters are giving me a bit of trouble in the revision process. Also, I am having the book copyedited by a professional freelance company (I'll be happy to suggest companies for you if you need a good copy editor.)

So to be sure the book is polished and ready in time, I'm taking a short hiatus until December 1. Because it makes no sense to write up the blog and miss my deadline.

If for some reason you did not get your code from the Halloween Spooktacular, please e-mail me at dawndeannawilson@gmail.com.

I will be having similar promos where you can get the book for free, and might even have a "beta" test version of it up on Kindle (to test the links, etc.)  for 99 cents (though I can't guarnatee all the typos will be caught in that beta version.

In the meantime, here's the 4-1-1 for the upcoming novel:

Mallory has synesthesia: her brain is wired so that she sees letters and numbers in color. Recently, she has noticed certain tastes that occurr when she sees certain words. Her friend Rochelle, fearing that Mallory  is developing an unhealthy crush on a psychologist who is researching her (David), whisks her away to New York for New Year's Eve. This novel follows the paths of Mallory, David, and others who are seeking out their new beginnings that night. These seekers include a police academy drop-out, a washed-up Christian rock singer, a schizophrenic kayak enthusiast, and a neurotic bomb-sniffing dog. These characters are unaware that they are actually linked to one another as midnight appraoches...

Did everyone get a coupon code?

I just wanted to double check to be sure that everyone who particpated in the Spooktacular got a coupon code. If you didn't, please e-mail me at dawndeannawilson@gmail.com and I will get it to you ASAP.

Thanks to all those who made the blog hop possible.

Tips for a sore "mouse muscle"

I want to talk a bit about the physical aspect ofwriting---since we rarely think of writing as physical unless we have a problem. I’ve complained about arm and hand strains before to a massage therapist. I still don’t know what it’s properly called, but I call it the mouse muscle, and it seems to be right around the elbow. A while back, it got incredibly sore and I had to use the mouse with my left hand (I’m right--handed), which feels very unnatural. I’ve also been known to have a flare up of carpel tunnel every now and again.

I confess, before I had carpel tunnel, I didn’t really understand how debilitating these repetitive motion injuries could be. For me, thankfully, relief came from massage therapy, arm braces and Advil –the arm braces were very helpful because when I sleep I rest my head on my hand, which I’m sure doesn’t help.

I think that it is technically a type of tendonitis that gives an ache to the mouse muscle, which is kind of like tennis elbow (which I’ve learned has very little to do with playing tennis).

I’m in that “ounceof prevention = pound of cure” club, so here’s some tips I’ve gathered on how to take care of your hands. (oh, and my lawyer wants me to insert a disclaimer –i.e. I’m not a medical doctor, if you try this stuff and die, don’t sue me, yada, yada, yada…)

Use of the proper technique when using your mouse can help. Here are some useful diagrams at this occupational health website:

http://www.mflohc.mb.ca/fact_sheets_folder/mouse_related_pain.html

For me personally, massage therapy has helped a lot---particuarly with my mousemuscle. Parafin wax treatments have helped my hands and wrists.

Also, ake time to stop and stretch. Ask your doctor / nurse / massage therapist to show you some useful stretches to help. A good yoga routine could be helpful as well.

I’ve found it helps me to perform a workout that involves the muscles in a different range of motion (kayaking, for example).

Check the height of your office chair. I’ve found if mine off, it will knock everything else out of kilter.

Here's some more info:

Good exercises--

http://www.livestrong.com/article/218011-how-to-exercise-the-mouse-finger/

What to do if it hurts:

http://www.livestrong.com/article/395316-what-to-do-for-tennis-elbow/

Anyone else have any methods that help you'd like to add?

Halloween Spooktacular---and the #1 THING THAT SCARES ME

Thanks for joining me and all the other bloggers during this blog hop as a part of the Spooktacular. If you'd like to get a free copy of my short story collection, just leave a comment, or follow the instructions at right to click on the wonderful blog, "I'm a reader, not a writer."

To celebrate this week, I've counted down the top ten things that scare the crap out of me.

Feel free to scroll through past entries, but to recap, they were:

#10. Bob Saget
#9. Parking Garages
#8 Ventriloquist Dummies
#7. Going to the bathroom in strange places
#6. My sister's cat
#5. Tales told around the campfire
#4. Paranormal stuff
#3. Heights
#2. Eyeballs...


And the #1 thing that scares the crap out of me?

THE MOTHMAN!!!!!!!!!

Okay, this is to show people why the Mothman Prophecies movie scared the crapola out of me. I am convinced I saw the mothman. Now before everyone dismisses me as a conspiracy theorist, let me just say that I am typically the logical sort. I realize that this may have been some kind of rapid flying squirrel from hell, or an earlier reincarnation of my sister's evil cat...all I'm saying is whatever it was, I'm calling it Mothman.


The  Mothman was a creature or something that was most famously seen around Point Pleasant, West Virginia.

Here's a two-minute primer from Animal Planet. And for the record, there is also a school of thought that the Mothman doesn't CAUSE these disasters, but rather is a warning, or harbinger.

Here's my story...

 I was in 10th grade, it was the middle of the night and I felt kind of barfy. So I went to the bathroom. (it's a second story bathroom that overlooks the pasture behind our house). I looked out the window and saw this bat-like thing with red eyes--just all the descriptions you hear about the mothman.

Note: this was not a bat (wasn't flapping wings), was not an owl (give me a break), it wasn't a crane or bird.  The thing that really struck me--and that you see in all the Mothman stories--was that it was moving toward me, flying, but was not flapping its wings. There was something really creepy about it, and I just had this feeling of dread.

So being the logical sort, I thought it was just the result of a fever or feeling as I mentioned, "barfy." As a writer, I realize that I do tend to let my imagination run away with me.

This is supposedly a drawing --possibly from a
police report about the Mothman. I swear to
you guys--this looks EXACTLY like what
I saw.  When I saw this picture, I couldn't
feel my legs or fingers.....

So I wiped my face with a cold washcloth, slapped my cheek a bit and rubbed my eyes, thinking, "man, that was a strange hallucination." Then I looked back out the window ...
.......AND IT WAS STILL THERE!!!!

That's what freaked me out. That and it seemed to fly closer to me without moving it's wings. Not an owl, though maybe it could have been a big bat (but it didn't move its wings) So I screamed and mom came in and of course it was gone.

On the plus side, I had forgotten about barfing.

Now before everyone dismisses me as some kind of nut---let me relate this story:
Some of my Facebook friends had asked what was the deal with me and the Mothman (I think there was some silly quiz about what frightened you or what not) and so I just wrote the whole epistle about my encounter with the mothman....
...then one of my FB friends told me she was babysitting not far from where I live and saw the same thing.

Her account, as posted on my FB wall:

"Now this is weird, Dawn, because I had a similar thing happen not too far from your house when I was in high school. I was babysitting and the home was in a cul-de-sac. I saw the same thing. I was babysitting these two little girls and I had put them in bed. The littlest girl yelled from the bedroom and told me she had seen a monster climb up her wall and was scared. I thought she was just lonely. So I went to her room, retucked her in and went to the dining room and looked out the window into the cul-de-sac and I saw what looked like a dark skinned very old man with red eyes. It looked at me and then moved toward me JUST LIKE YOU DESCRIBED. I got the girls in one room and we huddled up until the parents came home. I was so freaked out and scared the kids so badly that the parents never let me babysit again after that. The part that always scared me so bad about the "apparition" was that it was looking at me through the window before I saw it, like it was expecting me. That is what I never shook."

I forgot about it until 20+ years later when I saw the Mothman Prophecies movie. It really freaked me out ---bad---but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Then, out of curiosity, I went online and looked up some of the sketch stuff that people had submitted that were in police reports and thought, "that looks familiar" then I realized I had seen it before....

So, whatever it was---whether it was a bat or bad mayo or some crazed flying squirrel having a crack fit--- it scared the poop out of me. So I'm just calling it the mothman, because I'm afraid if I discount it I will accidentally summon the mothman.

And here's the trailer from the Mothman Prophecies movie... I had to drive home from a blind date in Raleigh after I saw this movie. I was sufficiently creeped out.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Thanks for joining me.
Feel free to follow my blog. I'm releasing a book on Kindle in December, and if you follow, you'll get first dips on a coupon code to get it for free, too. It's called "Ten Thousand New Year's Eves," and it follows seven people (and a bomb-sniffing dog) on their search for new beginnings.

And btw, if you do like me, please "like" my books on Amazon.com. I mean, don't do it if you do NOT like me (no hard feelings there).

Thanks and please feel free to support our authors and the awesome "I am a reader, not a writer, blog."
Peace out.

#2 on my countdown list....

Things that scare the crap out of me?

#2 EYEBALLS!!!!

I cannot stand anything near, around or even looking like it's coming into my eye. When I saw the movie "Minority Report," and the "I have to have an eye transplant to evade the retinal scanner detection" scene--it didn't matter that things were SUGGESTED instead of SHOWN. I felt myself swoon.

Demonic Cat Update---and Alfred Hitchcock Trailer

DEMONIC CAT UPDATE:  As if realizing I had profaned him in the blogosphere, my sister’s cat (#6 on the list of things that scare the crap out of me) just recently threw up on the top of her new car. Some of it leaked into the car itself. My, that’s a great way to start your morning. And yes, the car was in the garage. There are those of you who will say “Oh, the poor cat. He was sick. He couldn’t help it.” 

Riiiiiiight.

Trust me. It was planned. 

The only thing that cat is sick over is that he didn’t get to barf all over ME.

Now, to continue with the Spooktacular giveaway (details in sidebar at right)….

So many of you have come SO CLOSE to guessing the #1 on my list to win FREE copies of all three of my books, that I’m giving one more hint – a BIG one. In fact, this is probably going to give it away, but heck, this is all supposed to be in fun…

This “creature” was featured in a movie that starred Richard Gere.

But now, on with my countdown with #4 and #3 of the top 10 things that scare the you-know-what out of me…

#4. Paranormal stuff

Okay, first let me make this statement and get it out of the way: I respect what other people believe. It’s the first amendment and God Bless America. I do not apologize for what I believe, nor do I force or push my belief system on others, though I am not ashamed of what I believe.

That being said, I am a sincere (albeit heavily flawed) Christian, and I personally believe there is a reason that in the Bible, God says about the paranormal: Do. Not. Mess. With. That. Stuff.

Well, He doesn’t say it like that, of course.

I know that believing in ghosts is not theologically sound, but let’s just say that I’ve experienced some things that defy all scientific explanation. It totally freaks me out, and that’s one reason why you won’t see me going into amateur ghostbusting or ghost tours. I don’t know what that stuff is. I just know that ---whatever it is---it is real. Let's face it--when it comes down to it, we know relatively  little about the universe.

And whatever this stuff is, it scares the crap out of me.

So—I’m not messing with it.

Why? The story (one of many):

I was at a writer’s retreat, staying in a room that was reputed to be haunted. Writers in that room have experienced something sitting on the bed with them, items neatly arranged in order / lost/ reclaimed without any explanation, and doors loudly slamming when it is obvious that there is no one else on that side of the house.

For some reason, the ghost (or whatever it is) only bothers women, and if you are easily wigged out by it, it messes with you. If you aren’t, it leaves you alone. (And yes, I found that out through trial and error). Long story short, I was staying in a room beside the “ghost room” (because I was totally creeped out). I was taking a break in the communal kitchen and my writing group partner, B (who was also in residence) came by. She was surprised when she saw me.

“I thought you were in your room.”

“No, “ I said.

“How long have you been here?”

“About twenty minutes. Why?”

“I just walked by your room to ask you if you wanted some tea, but I heard you typing on your laptop really loudly, and I thought ‘Dawn must be in the zone’ so I didn’t bother you.”

Yep, you figured it out.

THERE WAS NO ONE IN MY ROOM WHEN SHE HEARD THIS.

And no one on the other end of the house.

What did I do?

I played the Jesus card.  I don’t know what it is/was, and I do NOT want to mess with it. In fact, I don’t WANT to know what it is. Like I said, prayer is a part of my personal belief system. I don’t apologize for it.

So if other folks want to find out about the “Ghost” in that room, go for it. But not me.

I’ve also had other mild paranormal experiences like this (one while working as a tour guide at Biltmore House in Asheville—but that’s a story for another Halloween.)

#3. Heights

I’ve always, always, been afraid of heights. Ever since I was a little girl. I don’t know why. I’ve never fallen or been trapped on a roof. Airplanes only bother me on take off and landing (because looking down from so high is kind of surreal that it all looks like a movie set).  But otherwise, I get shaky when I stand up on a stepladder more than two steps high. I’ve only fairly recently got to the place where I could change lightbulbs without shaking.

Well, this clip describes it all. Alfred Hitchcock was absolutely brilliant. I also love me some Jimmy Stewart.

Man! I miss men wearing SUITS!

Tomorrow--#2 and #1

Also, feel free to follow my blog. I've got some good stuff coming up---mainly info on Kindle publishing, ergonomics, and other crazy random stuff.

Also--some of you may be surprised to note: SNAKES and SPIDERS are NOT on my top list. Not at all. 

Snake in the garage? No problem. (granted, I'm not thrilled over it, but no problem.). HUGE spider web at the back door? No problem. In fact, maybe it will eat some of the gazillion mosquitoes that frequent Eastern North Carolina. 

But ask me to stand on a stepladder and change a lightbulb? Freak out city.

Spooktacular Giveaway -- and continuing with my creepy list

Welcome to the giveaway --- details and cool stuff are in the sidebar on the right. Woo hoo!

See previous posts for scary things  #7-10 by scrolling below.

To recap, I'm counting down the Top Ten Things that Scare the (insert expletive of your choice) Out of Me

6. My sister’s cat.

My sister’s cat is what Billy Bob Thorton would be if he were a cat. It’s one of those cats that is so sweet, kind, gentle…purrs up to you… leans lovingly against your hand…. gives a sweet ‘meow,’ as you lean close to it….
…then it scratches your face off.

Actually, I don’t know if Billy Bob Thornton does that…but I’m sure he could if he wanted to…

Case in point: On Dec. 24, I was staying in my sister’s guest room and the cat (ironically, named “Baby”) was snuggling up to me and purring in that way that cats do. I felt this was a breakthrough in our relationship (I actually do like cats) and so I was very thankful...

"Baby" hijacks my suitcase during a visit to my sister's. 

...but at 12:01 Christmas morning, the cat got on the floor (within easy smelling range of me) and hacked up the nastiest, smelliest, most disgusting furball I've ever seen/ heard/ experienced in my life. Then the cat looked at me as if to say, "Merry Christmas, you stupid b--"

Once I just looked at the cat and he hissed. The cat will snuggle up to me. "Love me" he seems to say, then, when I attempt to pet him--and I am not kidding-- he once slapped me so hard my glasses flew to the other side of the room.

I know he's trying to kill me.

I hate this cat. Wait, what I meant to say was....
....I hate this cat.

Put Bob Saget, a creepy puppet, the cat and me all in a parking garage and it’s my own ninth circle of hell.

Tune in tomorrow for #5...

Head back to the linky link list for more giveaways by clicking here...

Continuing my fearful countdown for the Spooktacular giveaway

How does it work? Well, all you need to know is on the right underneath the logo.
Be sure to scroll down for the hints to the #1 thing that scares the (expletive of your choice) out of me...

And in the spirit of the season (and, well, because I have no social life and nothing better to do), we continue. Scroll on down for numbers 9 and 10...

Top Ten Things that Scare the Bleep Out of Me....

8. Ventriloqust dummies…such as Jeff Dunham’s Walter or Peanut


(kewpie dolls, creepy dolls, and the like)

Surprisingly though, not clowns. I don’t particularly LIKE clowns, but they don’t really creep me out like they do my sister. But “dummies” or any dolls that look cutesy and TALK…well, that’s just strange. They act human. Some of them look human. Some look VERY human. But something just isn’t quite there.

 Maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to really get into Jeff Dunham, though my friends tell me I’d love his humor. Peanut isn’t some cute purplely-muppet-thing. He’s scary. He’s going to snap my neck when I’mnot looking. Want to know where his other shoe is? He shoved it down someone’s throat and killed them….

Disclaimer #2--- like Mr. Saget (see #10) I’m sure Mr. Dunham and Mr. Peanut pay their taxes, take out the trash and are good citizens. But that doesn’t mean I want to invite them over for dinner.

But only some puppets freak me out. Go figure.

Miss Piggy = not scary (can’t say why….maybe it’s the overdone mascara? Hard to be afraid of anything with that much mascara)

King Friday from Mr. Roger’s neighborhood= SCARY

Grover from Sesame Street = Meh

Those realistic-looking American Girl-type dolls you can get that look exactly like you = VERY SCARY.

Any psychology majors out there want to take a crack at why?

Seems like when I was little (4 or 5) there was a movie on TV about a voo doo/African doll that came to life and chased its owner around with a spear and knife (This was the early 70s, so I’m sure it was all very politically incorrect and racially insensitive, so my apologies there---I'm just the messenger).

 I vividly remember her having to throw the thing into the oven and even then it about came out, on fire, trying to get her. I didn’t sleep well that night. I had to be reassured that those dolls were not sold in stores. Somewhere deep down inside, I was afraid that maybe Santa would mess up, get my list confused with someone else’s, and put that doll in my stocking one year.

Since then, any doll / toy / thing that seemed to have human characteristics always caused me to freak out.

Except the bionic woman. She was cool.

But if you really want to go back to one of the earlier –and in my opinion--- best version of creepy toys, I say look no farther than Rod Searling’s twilight Zone and Talking Tina. I think this is still incredibly effective because it’s understated. Granted, I first saw this episode when I was in seventh grade, and it scared the poo out of me, but I think it is still chilling because of it requires a lot of viewer imagination to fill in some blanks. Although by today's scare meter, it is mild, it does make the point that sometimes less is more...
Take a gander below. Twilight Zone. Classic stuff. Still one of my all time faves.

7. Going to the bathroom in strange places

If I have to go to the bathroom on a plane, I'm desperate. I mean, come on. I just know part of my rear end is going to be sucked out into space. I can't go to the bathroom on a bus or train, either. I've tried. I sit down, and then I start wondering, "I wonder how fast we're going? I wonder what city/ state/ we're in? I wonder what would happen if there was a wreck and I was the one caught--literally--with my pants down that like scum lawyer dude who was hiding in the loo in the movie "Jurassic Park"? If this thing came to a sudden stop, would the laws of physics dictate that my pee is traveling at the same rate of the train?

Once, when I was in  England  (lovely country, btw. I LOVE the BRITS), I was with travel buddies L and G on the train from Manchester to Birmingham when nature called. Now, I had to cross to the next car where the bathroom was. No problem, right? I can handle this.

I open the door, and while it was a nice, simple walkway, I was very conscious of how fast we were going and then the whole thing turned into a scene from  "Lord of the Rings." Suddenly, I didn't have to go anymore.

This is why they call us Ugly Americans, I guess.

Tune in tomorrow for more, but in the meantime --- check out other way cool blogs on the linky link list by clicking here.... 

Spooktacular giveaway...and top ten things that scare the bleep out of me

Welcome to the Spooktacular giveaway blog hop. Because I'll be posting a lot this week, I want to be sure everyone coming to the blog this week gets all the information they need on how to get a free e-book from me. The information is in the sidebar on the right...
And in the spirit of the season, I’m counting down the Top 10 things that scare the crap out of me. NOTE: this list is supposed to be all in fun. I’m not putting “nuclear war” or global economic meltdown because those things are just too real.

ADDED BONUS?

…..if you can guess the #1 thing that scares me, you will win a coupon for a free copy of all of my books!  I’ll give a series of hints, and you can guess any day of the blog hop. Winners, (and the number one thing that scares me) will be revealed on Halloween

(insert ghost-like “wooooooo” here).

Following are six hints to the #1 item on my list…if you can guess it, you get a coupon for free copies of ALL THREE of my books….Just leave your answer in the comments section. (Friends who know me, please e-mail me privately and refrain from commenting and giving a spoiler to everyone…)

1---It is a “monster”---though not one the kids typically dress up as on Halloween

2—It has never been portrayed by Robert Pattinson.

3—It was featured in an episode of “The X Files”

4—It has been seen all over the world, but particularly in the Southern United States

5— Movies have been made about this “monster.” (Two that I know of...)
6---It scares me most because I believe I have actually seen it. (Though it could have possibly been the effects of some bad mayo…)

And now, we'll begin... (come back if you want to visit again and see all the items on my list...(cue drumroll....)

Top 10 things that scare the crap out of me.


10. Bob Saget

No, I’m not talking about that adorable widower with his cute kids on “Full House,” I’m talking about the wise-cracking host of “America’s Funniest Home Videoes” (AFHV) who kept telling jokes THAT WERE NOT FUNNY. And then he’d LAUGH. And then he’d do different voices for the people in the videos. That was creepy.

Okay, rule number one—don’t laugh at yourself. If it’s really funny, you won’t have to because everyone is already laughing. Seinfeld doesn’t laugh at himself. Foxworthy doesn’t laugh at himself (although if you do, you might be a redneck, yada, yada, yada….)

I’m sure Mr. Saget is a wonderful man and outstanding American citizen. He has done wonderful work for charity, and for this, he should be applauded. (Though I have heard that some of his more Vegas-rated comedy routines are profanely R-rated, in stark contrast to his “Full House” role. ) This is not a personal attack on Mr. Saget and I am definitely NOT suggesting that you leave flaming bags of poo on his doorstep. I’m also not suggesting that if you like him that something is wrong with you....

…but his hosting on AFHV is like nails on a chalkboard to me.

I give you the clip below…

(Shudder, shudder, shudder)

9. Parking Garages


Why is it in the movies, when everything goes downhill, there’s a drug deal shootout, the undead appear for the first time, it’s always, always, in a parking garage?

In the Matrix Reloaded freaky albino twins attack…in a parking garage.

Some movie where killer toys come after people who are trapped……in a parking garage.

Law and Order opening sequence…in a parking garage (cue Lenny with his wiseacre quip “Parking in this city will kill you…” –doink, --doink)

In Aliens, the alien hive is just basically a big parking garage for mutant evil alien eggs.

Doesn’t the Terminator make his first appearance in a parking garage? If not, he should have.

It’s for this reason I rarely park in a parking garage. Ever. Even in broad daylight. Even if I have to walk six miles to get to where I’m going.

Any other movies where the “fit hit the shan” in a parking garage?

Tune in tomorrow for more from the list.... :)
But in the meantime...
...visit some of the authors on the link list of this wonderful blog and get some cool free reads by clicking here.

FREE Halloween Short Story: Proverbs 31 Woman

I entered the NPR three-minute fiction contest last year, and didn't win, but I wanted to share my entry because it was really fun to write.

The parameters were:
1--story had to be three minutes when read aloud.
2-- the first sentence had to be "everyone thought the house was haunted"
3-- the last sentence had to be "and nothing was the same after that."

I hope you enjoy it....and check back in for the Spooktacular promo on Oct. 24 for FREE stuf---plus a countdown of the top ten things that scare the crap out of me.

Here is the story. Copyright, all rights reserved, all of that.

Proverbs 31 Woman

By: Dawn DeAnna Wilson

Some people swore that the house was haunted. But in our town, people swore the moon shot was faked. Our “historic” home had creaky floors, rattling windows, and it didn’t help that our hallways echoed with the bloodcurdling grind of electric sanders and the heart-sickening thunder of the sledgehammer. Kids would ring the doorbell and run, as if trying to get Boo Radley to come outside. Ted ignored them. He was imagining our Queen Anne fixer-upper as a bed and breakfast.

But then Ted got an abnormal PSA. He announced it to my in-laws during Thanksgiving dinner.

“My prostate’s shot,” he declared between spoonfuls of cranberry sauce. “I might even have the cancer.”

“Oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” my mother-in-law, Judith, said while awkwardly crossing herself, lest we mistake her prayer for taking the Lord’s name in vain.

“In the meantime, I’m starting my bucket list.” Ted was surprisingly upbeat.

I supported him like a true Proverbs 31 woman—the heart of her husband safely trusts her--- I helped him research skydiving prices, the best time to hike the Grand Canyon, and European travel bargains.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph came through for us; additional tests showed no cancer, but Ted’s bucket list was starting to metastasize. Next morning, I found him at the kitchen table, dark circles under his once-animated green eyes, surrounded by a hurricane of crumpled roadmaps, AAA guidebooks and legal pads covered with his awkward cursive.

“You know it only costs 30 grand to climb Mount Everest?” he said.

“Only?”

“If I take the accelerated course, I can get my pilot’s license in two months.”

“What’s all this?”

“My bucket list,” he said.

“But you don’t have the cancer.”

The doorbell rang. I answered it. No one was there. Kids.

Who can find a virtuous wife? Her worth is far above rubies.

I guess everyone just needed someone to inspire them—the economy sucked, the textile plant closed, and businesses were leaving town. Every other day someone from the church gave me another casserole. Ted wasn’t inspirational. He was convenient.

When Ted was supposed to get estimates on rewiring the house, he got estimates on scuba trips, the kind where they put you in shark cages.

“I understand bucket lists, honey.” I gently massaged his shoulders. “But some of this stuff…it’s just ridiculous.”

“That’s not what Earl said.”

“Earl?”

“Editor at the weekly paper. He wants to do a feature story on me.”

“For not having cancer?”

“On my trip to Angor Watt Temple. In Cambodia.”

“Who’s going to pay for rewiring the house while you’re in Cambodia?”

She willingly works with her hands…she rises while it is yet night.

Judith tells me to support Ted’s dreams-- he’s still her little mama’s boy. She says maybe the bed and breakfast was a bad idea.

“It was his idea.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

“How is he different from millions of people who don’t have cancer? How is he different from those who pay taxes and are living in houses worth less than they owe?”

She handed me a casserole and left me standing in the middle of sawdust and splinters.

She girds herself with strength, and strengthens her arms.
That’s when I finally realized the house was haunted. Every time Ted added an item, I hammered another hole in the wall. The kids don’t ring the doorbell anymore. Some dreams should just die. Some hopes shouldn’t be on life support. Some walls should be torn down.

Nothing was ever the same again after that.

One of the coolest things I've seen on You Tube in a long time

Unexpected inspiration…..How cool is this?


I was going to initiallyask him to marry me, but I saw the wedding band when he did “Droopy Dog.” So near and yet so far. Another man slipped through my fingers (as opposed to running, screaming as they head out the door.)

But seriously, this guy shows incredible talent. There just simply aren’t enough examples of Woody Allen doing Shakespere.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8PGBnNmPgk

Paying money to get published is still a dicey idea...five things to keep in mind

I think though the self-publishing trend has been revived due to Kindle and electronic publishing, it still stands as a good adage that the money should flow toward the author. Although Kindle may be considered self-publishing, it does not cost to publish on Kindle, and even Amazon’s Create Space for print titles is moderate (I think $35 for a package that lists you with Baker and Taylor and the major distributors.)

In addition, many print-on-demand publishers take a percentage of what is sold (unless you opt to purchase marketing services…which is a whole other ball of wax. ) For the record, I would be hesitant to pay for marketing services unless said organization has a proven track record of ROI (that is “return on investment.”)

You don’t need me to “mother hen” you, but here’s five things you should always consider when sending your book out in the world:

1. Track record of the publisher. Go to Preditors and Editors --- a VERY useful “buyer beware” website.

2. Can you do this yourself? Seriously. How is this publisher different from a print on demand publisher that won’t charge you an upfront fee?

3. Charges for cover art and editing? Well, you SHOULD get your work professionally proofread. That’s a given. But you may be able to find reputable freelancers who will do this (if you don’t, e-mail me and I’ll leave you the names of some I’ve worked with in the past). Cover art? Just like everyone thinks he/she can write, everyone also thinks he/she is an artist. Unless you have a background in graphic design maybe it’s best to leave it to the pros. JA Konrath’s blog has listed some of his cover artists. I can also forward the names of reputable freelancers I have dealt with in the past. Ask yourself if it’s more economical to hire a freelancer. You want your book to be professional.

4. I’m counting #3 as two items because, well, I’m just that lazy.

5. DISTRIBUTION. I’ll say that again. DISTRIBUTION. How do they plan to get this book out and into the world? Just putting it on their website (as opposed to Barnes and Noble, Amazon, etc. and Kindle among others) doesn’t cut it.

Any thoughts?

So happy fall is here!!!!!!

This is my favorite time of year, and in the hot, humid, swampy flat landscapes of Eastern North Carolina, it hasn't come too soon. In fact, it seems that summer has wanted to hang on, and linger, and linger, and linger forever. 

I've always found summer so oppressive.

Fall reminds me of two things:
1-- Football weather.

I don't watch football. Don't really care for it, to be honest. But, I do remember sitting in the stands with my friends as members of my high school marching band, watching the "Mike Man" do push ups from my seats in Kenan stadium while at the University of North Carolina, and yes, even looking over at the leaves starting to crisp from the 7th floor study lounge of Davis Library (I was a geek, what can I say?)

2-- Possibility

I remember the first "floor" meeting we had in my dorm. It was my freshman year at UNC-Chapel Hill (a place I dreamed of going since 7th grade) and there was something about the fall that first year. It let me know that there is always possibility, that there are always new beginnings, that no matter what we've done, it seems we can reinvent and transform ourselves into something greater.

I have a quote on my laptop that I like by Ivy Barker Priest.
It reads:
"The world is round, and the place that may seem like the end may actually, in fact, be only the beginning."

That's what I think of when I feel the first crisp of fall.

Spooktacular Blog Hop Oct. 24 - Oct. 31

I'll be doing the Spooktacular Blog Hop on Oct. 24 - Oct. 31...everyone who leaves a comment will get a FREE copy of "Welcome to Shangri-La North Carolina." This is a collection of short stories that were done as a part of my master's thesis. (I have my master's in English / Creative Writing from East Carolina University).

All you have to do is leave a comment (and obviously, an e-mail addy) and I'll send you the coupon code.

And no, I DO NOT SPAM. First --I don't know how to do it and second---it's totally not cool, man.

But (as the guy says on the infomercial at 3 a.m.) there's MORE -- from those commenters, I will draw THREE who will win my other two books -- "Saint Jude" and "Leaving the Comfort Cafe."

As an added bonus (or not) That week, I will be counting down the TOP TEN THINGS THAT SCARE THE CRAP OUT OF ME.   A note here---this is all meant to be in good fun, so I'm not going to put things like "nuclear Armageddon"  or "collapse of the global economy" because---well, those things are a bit too scary because they are a bit too real. The point of this countdown is not to give you a front row seat on my therapy sessions, but rather to tastefully celebrate some of the spooky season.

Join me. It'll be fun. Plus, if my book isn't your cup of tea, there are TONS of cool books available at this blog hop. I'll have links available.

Dawn to J.A. Konrath: Pass the Kool-Aid

In his recent blog post, author and Kindle powerhouse JA Konrath quoted a literary agent as making this statement:

Do NOT drink the kool-aid on E-publishing. It's too early to be making sweeping statements about any of it. We're all learning this as we go and the right answer to almost everything is "we'll see what happens."


Well, while I agree you can't make sweeping statements about ANYTHING in this world, I do think to say "don't drink the Kool-Aid" leaves out some major opportunities for writers---mainly putting up their books from traditional publishers which have gone out of print (as I did.)

But Konrath takes her statements one by one and I'm not going to reiterate what he said, but the link is here:

http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/

Also, while you're there, check out the "e-publishing predictions" that JA made back in 2009 with astonishing accuracy. Link is here:

http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/2011/09/konraths-ebook-predictions-from-2009.html

Update on my Kindle Venture -- three-figure club and print interest?

For those of you who have been following, I have launched my own mini "Kindle experiment" by putting up my out-of-print books and a short story collection (workshopped stories that were done as a part of my master's degree). I was interested to know if the Kindle venture would be beneficial, and I had nothing to lose.

I currently have three titles up on Kindle, and I hear that the more you put up, the more yo sell.

Over the last three months I have earned between $74 and $84 a month total.
This last month I entered the special "three-figure" club--- I have earned $102.

All of this is with every little advertising, though I do participate in some book giveaways and a few events like that.

I've also found that folks are now interested in buying my hard copies. Since they are out of print from the publishers, I will have to find a way to get them up myself, and am looking at Amazon's Create Space to do it.  I think that's interesting that folks have found an interest in the print copies, and I wonder if it has something to do with some random person selling one of the few new print copies of "Leaving the Comfort Cafe" for $43.

To recap, I started this whole thing by putting up my short story collection in the fall of 2009. From there, I eventually put up my other titles. All three titles were up sometime in late 2010. In short, I've not been at this very long.

I'll keep you updated as I progress.

My goal: to earn enough $$ to go to an international writing retreat in Ireland I've had my eye on for a while....

Strike the stage: last Jesu show success. Thank you Waxhaw!

Museum of the Waxhaw

The final showing of "Jesu of Fondue" was this afternoon. Once again, such a great job by such a talented cast. My hat's off to Waxhaw----what a wonderful town, what a wonderful welcome, and what wonderful talent.



The folks who made it possible---the cast of Jesu of Fondue with Judy (front right) who is the artistic director (and also a playwright herself)



Of course, unphotogenic me had to get in on the action. Pay no attention to the geek on the far left....



It's hard to describe the feeling you get as a playwright to hear your work read aloud and with such skill. I was floored (though not surprised) to realize that two fo these folks have appeared in national commercials and national touring companies.

 

Our wonderful stage manager with
"Martha" (also known as Catherine,
the voice behind the Harris Teeter Vic CARD!!!

 

These are the folks who played Hope,
the runaway, and Roger, the reporter.







And no, I am not pregnant in any of these pictures. I really have been doing ab crunches. Honest.

The cast also witnessed me taking the first bite out of a fried pickle. Oh Waxhaw, how you opened up my world.  I want to later list the name of the cast members with their bio on their achievements, because if any of my followers (or non-followers) are in the Charlotte area, you really should check out the theatre venues to catch these folks in a show. I'll post their cast bios later on....

....but for now, it was a great adventure, and a whirlwind trip, and my Ambien seems to be finally kicking in....so ...until the curtain comes up next time.



Jesu Performance: Blogging from Waxhaw, NC

The Storefront Theatre in Waxhaw, NC is performing my play, "Jesu of Fondue" as a part of their reader's theatre.  For those of you not familiar with it, "Jesu" is about a housewife who sees the face of Jesus in a billboard advertisement for a fondue restaurant, and the whole town becomes a media circus. It's a comedy that tackles issues of faith and family.

Last night---first performance---was AMAZING. It played to a packed house (not quite sold out---it is a small and intimate theatre which is great for shows). The talent of the folks here just absolutely floored me. The woman who played Martha is a NATIONALLY recognized voice talent. I'm sure you've heard her. She's the : "Use your VIC card at Harris Teeter" voice. The guy who read for Jed also played Jacob/Potiphar in the NATIONAL touring company of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat."



Downtown Waxhaw

 But first, an aside about Waxhaw. I knew nothing aobut this small town (40 minutes east of Charlotte, right on the board of SC). I wasn't sure what to expect. WOW. This is the birthplace of the 7th US President, Andrew Jackson (for my international peeps, he's on the 20 dollar bill) and there's a homestead and museum here where the theatre is. There's also an outdoor drama done here. It's kind of like a smaller version of the Festival Park / Lost Colony thing.

The town of Waxhaw is incredibly cute. A vibrant downtown (see photos). Usually, when a play / booksigning/ reading of mine takes place, I try to buy a small, inexpensive piece of jewelry, preferably done by local artists. There was a gorgeous local beading jewelry store, and I not only got myself some stuff (Dawnster loves the bling) but bought about 6 Christmas presents for folks as well. I like the beading stuff because I have an allergic reaction to metals on my neck. Any kind---cheap or real deal.

Anyway, there was such GREAT feedback from the audience, and I was able to basically sit back and enjoy the show. I was in the audience, but not introduced. until after the show. It's kind of awkward, as you can imagine, to be sitting next to the playwrigthtI confess, one of the things that touched me most, was after the show and the actors took a bow, a few folks started calling "author!" The director smiled and said the playwright was in the house. Someone called "where's the playwright?" Then I was introduced and took a bow.
I gave away two copies of my books as a part of a drawing they have for audience members---it's good advertising / publicity, and I like to give a :) to folks who support the arts.



I'm staying at a cast member's house ----which is an incredible 5,000 square foot house---and I confess, I feel like the Queen of Sheba. What an incredibly warm welcome from such talented folks.



From the Museum of the Waxhaws, where
the Storefront Theatre is located.



Any of you near the area should check out Waxhaw. In addition to all the Andrew Jackson museum stuff, there is also a museum for Wycliffe Bible translators. Waxhaw is where one of their airports / plane operations are for pilots who fly copies of the Bible into jungles, etc.

I'll try to post a few pics from the play and maybe even film a scence if I can do it without being too distracting.

My play will be presented this weekend

I'm very excited about this...
...my play, Jesu of Fondue, will be presented this weekend in a concert play reading format by the Storefront Theatre in Waxhaw, NC (outside of Charlotte.)

Information on the theatre can be found here: http://www.storefronttheatre.org/

I've been swamped as of late trying to get book #3 out and ready, but I'll post some excerpts and video from the event.

Final Aussie Post (on SNAKES) -- AND WINNERS!!!!

First, I want to give a big THANK YOU to Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke for providing some of the most entertaining posts I've seen. I'm prodding him to put all these together in a Bill Bryson-esque publication.

Speaking of publications, Michael will have a poetry chapbook coming out soon from a US publisher in Texas. I'll post the link to the book when they are available.

Before we go to this one last post from "Aussie August" (that is now obviously Aussie September)--I wanted to announce the winners of our two prizes from the drawing.

A copy of Doris Betts' "Souls Raised from the Dead" goes to..... NEVYN!!!!! Nevyn, you can e-mail me at dawndeannawilson@gmail.com and give me your snail mail addy and that book is in the mail to go halfway across the world.

Michael has offered another prize --some stuff from the ever-cool Writer's in Townsville (Australia). And that winner is .......JACK COLTON!!!!!!
Who is Jack Colton? (other than a character from Romancing the Stone) . He's someone whose Facebook / e-mail account was hacked and because of employer / privacy, etc. cannot use his "real" name. However, I will get him in touch with Michael, and they'll work it out.

(Seriously, Jack Colton is a real person. I promise.)

Now, the final, and perhaps my favorite, Aussie post....

The Female of the Species is More Deadly than the Male


Americans have guns. They have nukes, too, or at least their military does, but their venerable Constitution, penned by their venerable founding fathers, means that Americans have guns. And they shoot each other too often.

A scary place? Perhaps, if you’re in a swamp being hunted by a serial killer. But I pretty much guarantee that the swamp itself is not as scary as the beach promenade here in Townsville.
Last Wednesday, I was out walking with a friend, and she suddenly yelled.

“Watch out! There’s a snake!” I started, jumped backwards, in fear of my life. And for very good reason.

Forget the Indian king cobra, forget the American rattlesnake. Did you know that Australia, dear old Down Under, home of the koala and the kangaroo, is also home to the eleven most venomous species of snakes on the planet? And, may Our Good Lord strike me down and confiscate my jelly beans, I have been bitten by one of those snakes, and here I am to recount the tale.

I was a kid of about nine. My family lived in the country in the southern, colder state of Victoria, but, like one of those eerie, scary movies, that are made to make girls cling close and trembling to their dates, “there is no escape” from the omnipresent threat of the snakes.

Dad, mum, brother and sister and I were black berrying – blackberry picking – in what the Brits might call a wood. (By the way, the Brits, with their lone paltry adder, are rated by Aussies as nature effeminates. And as for the Irish, since Saint Patrick put the cleaners through the place, they’ve been pathetic spectators to this sort of stuff.)

I had a large, yellow plastic bucket, which was filling up with the sweet-tasting berries. My little hands were stained purple, from the juice. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt a something bite my right ankle. And, as I quickly looked down, a snake slithered back into the dense, thorny undergrowth of the blackberry bushes.

“Snake! Snake! I’ve been bit! I’ve been bit!” I yelled.

Instantly, dad was by my side. “Show me.” I rolled down my sock, and yes, the evidence was indubitable. Two telltale puncture marks, just above my ankle bone.

“Right everyone, into the car. We’ve got to get Michael to hospital,” said dad, bundling us all up into our sardine tin white Cortina. Already, I was sweating, shaking, and having visions of Jesus telling me off in person for playing hooky from Sunday School.

Our little car was rattling down the road at the rate of knots. We got to the town limits, when we heard a siren.

Now it is at this point in the story that I must protect myself against a possible libel suit. The person I am about to refer to may still be, in fact he probably is, still alive, so I’ll call him, for safety’s sake, “Nathaniel Dungwit”.
Nathaniel, or “Big Nate” Dungwit was a local hero. With dark, moustachioed movie star good looks, it was a moot point whether his main claim to fame in our small town was his exploits each weekend on the field for our town’s mildly successful Australian football team, or that he was our local police constable.

Yes, we heard a siren. Nate Dungwit overtook us, and motioned for dad to pull over.

“Nate, I’m so glad to see you,” said dad, “my eldest son’s been bitten. Would you mind giving us a high speed escort to the hospital?”
Nate, seemingly oblivious, was pulling out something from his back pocket.

“We really must hurry, constable Dungwit,” added mum.

Nate began writing on his pad.

“I’m issuing you with a speeding infringement,” he finally said, as he put his biro back in its holster.

Dad’s face went the colour of a sink of water that had been used to wash a load of greasy dishes, and then left to go cold overnight.

“Look at the puncture marks, constable,” he said, through gritted teeth, pulling down my right sock.

“No matter,” said Dungwit, with the casual, confident authority of one who knows the feeling of power, and how to use it, “you were speeding. Go home. See how he is by tonight. And if I catch you speeding again, I’ll throw the book at you.”

From that day, to the Saturday afternoon he played his last game, there was one player on our local footy team that our family booed every time he got near the ball. More to the point, though, on that snakebite day I was basically at death’s door.

Well, not quite. I was mega-ill, though. We did go home, and I curled up on the sofa, covered by umpteen blankets, teeth chattering, sweat pouring off my fevered brow. No joke. May Our Good Lord dematerialise my confiscated jelly beans.
In the end, after about two days, my fever subsided, and I recovered. What saved me from prematurely having Moses and Elijah teach me at ethereal Sunday School was that I was bitten through thick socks, and the puncture marks weren’t deep, evidencing this. A close call, though...

And yes, here in Australia we have quite a number of species of venomous spider as well, the redback and the funnelweb being the most notorious.

What is even more notorious, though, to Aussies of my generation, is the truly execrable song “Redback on the Toilet Seat”, by country music singer Slim Newton, which came out in 1972 and did well on the pop singles charts.

Rumour has it that the lead singer of the 1980s glam, hair metal band Poison heard the song on the radio, late at night, when he was a kid, and it so frightened him he resolved to spend his life cultivating his coiffure and easing into glittery, spandex pants, so as not to be mistaken for redback spider bait.

And yes, the female redback of the species is more deadly than the male, but that’s another story...

Canberra: Australia's National Capital--guest post by poet Michael Fitzgerald Clark

Historically, even in the 1800s when Australia was a set of British colonies, before Australia as a country came into being in 1901, the peoples of Melbourne and Sydney were fierce rivals. (That rivalry continues to this day; I’m not sure what the US equivalent is, New York and LA perhaps? But all that is another story.)

So, in the late 1800s, when it came to deciding whether Melbourne or Sydney would be the capital of the new Federation, of course they couldn’t agree. The colonial politicians ummed, and arred, and it got quite vitriolic.

And so, after much to-ing and fro-ing, in 1908 (yes, it took the politicians that long to get their act into gear) Canberra was established as the compromise choice.

No-one was happy, really. And to this day, no-one outside Canberra really is. Canberra tries to market itself as the “bush capital”, and is home to the Federal Parliament and many national institutions such as the National Library, but to the vast majority of Aussies living elsewhere, it is known only for its politically generated hot air, and sneered at accordingly.


I’m sure that sneerability factor extends to visiting political delegations from overseas, as Canberra is the only national capital in the world, other than an obscure African country that is so obscure that no-one knows which one it is, that doesn’t have an international airport.

And yes, may Our Good Lord strike me down if this is not true, kangaroos can often be seen hopping about the streets of the inner suburbs early in the morning.

Canberra has an incredible amount to offer as a place to visit. As someone who has lived there for most of my adult life, I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone reading this from outside Australia, and to those many Aussies who ill-advisedly malign it on the basis of stereotypical nonsense.

But this post is not about me being an apologist for Australian Capital Tourism, the local government tourist body. Let me instead give advice on the best pick-up spot in the city.

Apparently, I have this on good authority – I’d never do this myself, of course – the best pick-up spot in town was (I left Canberra in July 2009, so this info is not quite current) not a nightclub, it was a supermarket. Specifically, the Coles Supermarket in the ritzy suburb of Manuka.

If you are on the trawl, apparently you go to this Supermarket, and linger in the fresh produce section. You then suggestively fondle the avocados and cucumbers, or peaches and plums, depending on your gender. Don’t you just feel your arousal level rising, even in cyberspace?!

I can’t end this post without some reference to politics, it is so intrinsic to what happens in the city. Up to 1989, the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) – the US equivalent is the District of Columbia, I think – was governed by the Federal Government, but some Canberrans agitated for self governance, and in 1989 the first ACT Legislative Assembly election was held.

Dry as dust, you’re thinking. Well, hang on just one sec. As you would expect, many political parties contested the election. And among them were the “Party! Party! Party!” party, the “Surprise Party” party, the “Sun-Ripened Warm Tomato” party, the “Sleepers Wake” party, the “Home Rule OK” party, and, of course, the “No Self Government Party” party.

I kid you not. The election campaign was a hoot. Aspiring politicians in pyjamas and tomato costumes. It could only happen in Canberra...

99-cent book sale

*** SEPTEMBER 2 – 5 ONLY ***
The first ever INDIE BOOK BLOWOUT – To celebrate this exciting event, I’ve reduced the price on my book to only 99¢!

To score dozens of FANTASTIC indie books for only 99¢, visit indiebookblowout.com. While you’re there, register to win a brand new Kindle & up to $100 in Gift Cards (entry form on the site).

*** Also- if you're looking for a good read, may I humbly suggest a book by my writing group partner Billie Hinton---"The Meaning of Isolated Objects" (dang, I love that title!)

Aussie August will Continue into September....(thanks to Irene)

Aussie August continues into September ---


I have two more wonderful posts from Australian poet Michael Fitzgerald Clark---publication was delayed due to a power outage and my general wigging out during Hurricane Irene (and I’m fine and my place is fine, praise the Lord. I’m about 2 hours from the coast near the state capital, and we still get a decent punch when something hits the Outer Banks).

This means two things (obviously)

1--- Drawing for winners will be pushed back to Sept. 12 (see previous Aussie August posts for how to enter and win, etc.)

2--- You have a few more chances to win—all you have to do is leave a comment.

Michael’s next posts will be about the capital city of Canberra and ---perhaps one of my favorite of his posts---one about his close encounter with a deadly snake (which, in Australia, is evidently ALL snakes)

Aussie August: Australian Football

Continuing with Aussie August with guest blogger, poet Michael Fitzgerald-Clarke. Leave a comment to be placed in a drawing for a chance to win FREE stuff!

First played in Melbourne in the 1850s, and long known as “Aussie Rules” or “footy”, it used to be in the DNA of every boy growing up in the traditional football states: Victoria, Western Australia, South Australia, and Tasmania. The heathens in New South Wales, epitomised by that Gomorrah Sydney, played rugby league as their winter sport, and were despised by all Victorian kids, and adults too. We were the true believers.

Let us begin with the formation of the Victorian Football League, or VFL, in 1896. The winner of the League each year won the Premiership flag, yes, it was a real flag, and still to this day is, known as “the flag”, by winning the final play-off game of the finals series. That game is known as the Grand Final.

But the aspect of footy I wish to highlight, and in this day and age it’s politically incorrect to do so, is its brutality. Truly, American readers, the NFL is for wimps. Our gladiators don’t bother themselves with padding, or helmets, they just go for it until the blood begins to flow.

Yes, as all footy fans know, over the years there have been many breathtakingly skilful, graceful players. Such as the St Kilda 1966 Premiership captain Darrel Baldock, or “The Doc”, who bemused opposition teams with his blind turns (an especially graceful manoeuvre, a sort of pirouette, sadly not seen much in the modern game).

But it is the enforcers, the tough guys who were in the team to bash the opposition to bits, who made Aussie rules what it is. Notable among them were the Carlton Football Club legend Bob Chitty, whose mother was so afraid of him even as a baby she put barbed wire around his cot.

Chitty played in “The Bloodbath”, the notorious 1945 Grand Final played in the rain-lashed mud between Carlton and South Melbourne in front of 62,986 fans baying for blood.

The next passage of this post is not for the squeamish.

Here is the official charge sheet for the game:
Ten players were reported for a total of sixteen offences:
• Ted Whitfield (South Melbourne): Charged with using abusive language to goal umpire Whyte, attempting to strike field umpire Frank Spokes, kicking the ball away after a free kick was given against him, and attempting to conceal his guernsey so the goal umpire could not report him. Suspended for 21 matches.

• Jack “Basher” Williams (South Melbourne): Charged with using abusive language to Carlton's Rod McLean and goal umpire Whyte, and adopting a fighting attitude to goal umpire Whyte. Suspended for 12 matches.

• Bob Chitty (Carlton): Charged with elbowing Billy Williams (South Melbourne). Suspended for 8 matches.

• Don Grossman (South Melbourne): Charged with striking Jim Mooring (Carlton). Suspended for 8 matches.

• Ron Savage (Carlton): Charged with striking Don Grossman (South Melbourne) in retaliation for Grossman having king-hit teammate Mooring. Suspended for 8 matches.

• “Gentleman” Jim Cleary (South Melbourne): Charged with striking Ken Hands (Carlton) after a mark, and attempting to strike Bob Chitty. Found not guilty on attempted striking charge; still suspended for 8 matches.

• Fred Fitzgibbon (Carlton): Charged with one count of melee involvement; despite serving a four-match suspension from the preliminary final for having king-hit Collingwood forward Len Hustler, he ran onto the field during a final quarter brawl and fought with Ted Whitfield before being ejected from the arena. Suspended for an additional four matches.

• Herbie Matthews (South Melbourne): Charged with throwing the ball away after a mark was given against him. Severely reprimanded.

• Ken Hands (Carlton): Charged with charging Ron Clegg (South Melbourne). Found not guilty.

• Keith Smith (South Melbourne): Charged with striking Jim Mooring (Carlton). Found not guilty.

Carlton won the game, incidentally.

OK, so you’re thinking that’s ancient history, and the game can no longer be like that. Cut to the epic 1989 Grand Final between Hawthorn and Geelong, considered by many aficionados as the greatest Grand Final of the modern era.
Here’s an excerpt from the match report:

Geelong made their intentions clear right from the start when Mark Yeates ran through Hawthorn's champion centre half-forward and enforcer Dermott Brereton. As Geelong coach Malcolm Blight later admitted, this had been a premeditated strategy to protect star midfielder Paul Couch and negate Brereton, who constantly used his aggression to unsettle the opposition.

Yeates was chosen to carry out the deed, partly as payback for when Brereton had flattened him in the classic Round 6 clash earlier in the season. Amidst the chaos in the middle of the ground, the Cats rushed the ball forward to Gary Ablett, who kicked the first of his nine goals for the afternoon.

Yeates’s hit left Brereton with broken ribs and a bruised kidney, which caused him internal bleeding. Hawthorn physiotherapist Barry Gavin recalled the scene years later:

“The thing that really struck me was how bad he was when I got there. He'd lost all the color in his face and was vomiting. He'd dragged himself back on his feet by this stage. But he was doubled over, dry-retching and his color was grey... There was no way he could stay out there. I remember looking up at [Hawthorn coach Allan Jeans] in the box and starting to try to get him off. Dermott said, ‘No, no. Just get me down to the pocket’. Terry Gay (Hawthorn's team doctor) came out. He was more worried than me. He recognized the gravity of it.”

Despite the insistence of the club doctors and trainers, Brereton refused to leave the field and instead was helped to the forward pocket. Hawthorn eventually narrowly won the game. They finished with just thirteen fit players out of twenty-two.

I’ll spare you the match charge sheet.