Saturday was an amazing day. Actually, it started Friday evening. I got home to discover that Jasmine was LIVE digitally, out there on Amazon (don’t worry, it’s becoming available on other formats as the week goes on-I’ll keep you posted). What an incredible feeling. I”ve been doing guest blog posts here and there, marketing and sharing and suddenly, there she was. I downloaded it to my Kindle right away. As soon as I flipped to the title page, I started to cry. I’d realized my dream of being published.
I’ve been so focused on guest blog posts and lining up marketing, so focused on the date on the calendar, that when my husband suggested we do a little something to celebrate, I couldn’t fathom it. Being the loving, wise, man he is–he completely ignored my protests and picked up some delicious gluten free cupcakes from Piece Of Cake (if you haven’t eaten their wares, you MUST) and a bouquet of beautiful flowers. At the top, you can see a cute collage photo of our celebration my daughter made.
I’m like a proud new mama–there she is, isn’t she pretty?
Have you ever realized a dream–or are you still waiting for one? I’d love to hear your stories.
And thanks for all your support in making this one happen for me.
Saturday approacheth! What’s so great about Saturday? Lawn work? NOPE. Well…maybe. But, better than that, you can download the digital release of my novel, Jasmine. Can I get a hurrah?
Ever since June hit, I’ve been hearing that Rocky theme song music in the back of my head—complete with wakka wakka guitar riffs and string section. You know the part where Rocky is running and training and he finally gets to the top of the stairs and tadah! Then he goes on and fights a lot and gets brain damage. Um…Where was I going with that?
Writing is a bit like Rocky. You develop a story idea, get it all on paper, edit it to death, let others edit it, polish it and start pitching it (this process can take years). Then it’s all cake, right? Nope. You’re just at the top of the stairs, exhausted, hoping for a Gatorade—because now starts marketing. Actually, you’ve got to be marketing all along, really, but you really start pushing and connecting and chatting up your book at this point. The hard work keeps going—hopefully without the brain damage (this is in direct proportion with how many times you whack your head against your computer screen).
To whet your interest, here’s the Jasmine book trailer. You didn’t know that book trailers existed? Yep, they do. Would you do me a favor? Forward this blog post to a friend or two. Share the video. All that lovely social media stuff. I’m in your debt.
And please don’t forget to hop over to the Shepherd’s Door at Portland Rescue Mission (indicate women and children’s recovery) and Door to Grace websites to donate to their amazing ministries, helping hurting women and children. You can make a difference in someone’s life today.
Jasmine works with young women, giving them a plan not just for survival, but hope for a rewarding future. You see, she knows how important that is—because she was one of those girls once. She had nowhere to turn, so she ran. And things went from bad to worse. While my novel, Jasmine, is a fictional tale, it’s based on some pretty horrible facts.
Take a minute to imagine with me. You’re a twelve year old girl with a neglectful family. Your parents fight—even beat you. Your mom’s addicted to alcohol, and your dad’s always angry. The refrigerator doesn’t have much food in it. School’s tough. You feel like an outcast because you can’t connect with anyone. Every instinct in you tells you to stay where you are, because home is the only place you’ve ever known—even if bad things happen there, at least you know what to expect. And then comes along this guy. A wonderful, attentive guy that dotes on you and listens to you. He’s a little older than you, too. Suddenly, you feel appreciated—even adored. He buys you nice gifts and tells you how pretty you are. It’s the first time anyone has shown you true concern and affection. You feel special. So when he asks you to run away with him, you don’t have to think about it long. This is it and he’s Mr. Wonderful, your very own Prince Charming. You go.
And that is where the fantasy stops. Before you know it, this guy has given you over to another guy. He’s not kind or adoring. He’s demanding and cruel. There’s no getting away. If you did get away, you’d have nowhere to go. Your parents don’t want you (or so this man keeps telling you)—and now you’re damaged goods. You’re more alone than you’ve ever been. Plus, that cruel guy, your pimp, is now controlling your every move—he’d probably kill you.
Such is the plight of many runaways. Some meet Mr. Wonderful in their own home towns, or at the mall. Some meet him after they’ve ended up on the streets. Either way, the result is the same. It’s all a huge lie, and now they’re trapped in a life they don’t feel they can escape. They need help.
Most of us don’t know what to do with that kind of information. How do you help someone like this? But there are places that know just what to do. Door to Grace is such a ministry. They’ve built a wonderful network to reach out to exploited children and give them a safe place to live while recovering. And they lead them to the Savior that can heal the hurts—the ones deep down that no one else can see.
Please take some time to check out their web page (click here) and donate. Help get a girl off the streets, give her back a secure life—let her know there are real people who thinks she is special and worth saving. Thanks.
Oh happy day! It’s June first! And that means my novel, Jasmine, will be released to your favorite digital format in two weeks! Mark the date: June 15th! If you don’t have a digital reader, don’t worry, it will go to paperback in September (and I’ll remind you of that when it happens).
Another announcement I’m excited to make is that I’ve partnered with Portland Rescue Mission’s Shepherd’s Door. Shepherd’s Door is an amazing ministry that helps at-risk women and children get off the streets, gives them a safe place to live, and supports them during their physical and spiritual recovery from abuse, sex-trafficking, homelessness and drug abuse. They offer hope and grace. When I first approached them with the idea that I’d like to promote their ministry in my novel, they came back to me and said, “We’d love to make a landing page for your book on our web page.”
Why? It so happens that my character, Jasmine, does a very similar job in my novel. Her heart aches for those untouchables here in the U.S. that we might look past on our way to shopping or eating out. We often forget that those girls and young women aren’t out there because they think it’s an awesome place to be. Most are escaping a bad home-life–or they’ve been tricked, and now they are trapped in a lifestyle they don’t think they can escape. The typical age of indoctrination into the sex trade here in the United States is twelve. Doesn’t that feel overwhelming? The good news is, places like the Portland Rescue Mission gives them a safe place to turn to.
So, without further fan-fare, check out this link for Portland Rescue Mission (click here), and after you do, please donate to the women’s and children’s recovery. Your donation will make a huge difference in someone’s life.
Last night my son came in the living room and said, “I love Tuesdays because we get to watch something fun and we always have popcorn.” He looked so happy. And that really struck me, because up until about five months ago, Tuesdays were not fun. Tuesdays are the day I do my infusion treatment for my CVID.
I’ve blogged a couple times on how my attitudes have changed since I started treatment for my CVID. I wrote in a previous post how I started thinking of my IgG infusion as immunobuddies rather than an enemy making me feel fatigued, achy and stealing my night and part of the next day away. I also stopped looking at Tuesdays like I wanted to skip them altogether. Instead, I started to think about how I could make this routine into something a bit more enjoyable.
I used to just try and keep my stress low on Tuesday, and make an easy meal before I started my treatment (I won’t share with you the perils of trying to cook whilst carrying around a pump—let’s just say getting your lines caught on a cutting board makes you want to plan ahead!).
But now, not only do I get dinner all prepped and finished before I start my infusion, but I also make popcorn. Popcorn??? Yep. Because I’ve turned Tuesday into ‘low stress, let’s have fun’ night. We’ll turn on a show I love or put in a movie we’ve been waiting to see.
My kids used to say, “Oh, it’s your treatment night,” in an empathetic sad voice. Now, all of us have something to look forward to. My two hours pass and we’ve had a nice evening together. I’m still curled in a ball in the chair after my infusion is over, but at least I’m in pretty good emotional condition now.
And I get popcorn.
What sorts of things do you do help you cope with a rough time? I’d love hearing about it.
May our Lord bless and keep you.
***Novel release update: June is around the corner, and Jasmine will release digitally on the 15th. I’m finishing final edits as you read this, my book trailer is just about ready, and I’m going to have friends popping over here now and then to share about their books. See you next week.***
Do you ever find it’s hard to live up to someone else’s expectations? Although you may be embarrassed to admit it, you just can’t quite measure up?
My daughter has been in more than a couple events that required costumes. As the mom, the ‘stay-at-home homeschooling mom’ no less, it’s assumed as rolls are handed out, that I can sew. To which I always find myself in a bit of a conundrum.
I come from a long line of seamstresses. My grandmothers sewed, one of them quite expertly. My Mom1 sews pretty well. My Mom2 was a professional seamstress (and still is, but now she only does it for ‘fun’). All of these wonderful women tried to teach me to sew. My Mom2 even gave me a brilliant sewing machine to use. They were all patient, and caring and encouraging in their instruction.
And yet…
The other day my daughter went through my sewing kit and found a bag inside. “What’s this?” She held up a sack and proceeded to dump the contents out. I knew what was inside—I didn’t need to watch.
“A baby bib,” I responded rather quietly—trying not to look at my failure.
“For who?” She held up the tiny circular bib with teddy bears on it, edging hanging askew.
“You.” Keep in mind, my daughter is fifteen.
You’ve got that right, I can’t sew. Well, I take that back, I can sew rectangular things-like tablecloths and curtains and pillow cases. But, as for the aforementioned circular bib-no. Doll clothes? Nuh-uh. Dresses? Let’s not go there.
Sometimes it’s hard to admit you’re beat. At other times though, I’d love to wear a sweatshirt that says, “Yep, I’m a mom who isn’t crafty and who doesn’t sew!” just to get startled looks from people. Because, really, I do get them. (I would naturally have to BUY the sweatshirt).
As I’m maturing, though, I’m learning that it’s okay not to be able to do everything. God made me for a particular purpose, with gifts and talents and it doesn’t mean I have to live up to other people’s expectations of me—just His. That sure takes off a lot of pressure when I remember that.
As I put the half-sewn bib carefully back into the sack (with about three others I had cut out) she wondered why I didn’t just give it away. I shrugged, but in the back of my mind, there was that nagging voice saying I might be able to finish them in time for grandchildren one day in the far future. Well, you never know…
Saturday was an amazing day. Actually, it started Friday evening. I got home to discover that Jasmine was LIVE digitally, out there on Amazon (don’t worry, it’s becoming available on other formats as the week goes on-I’ll keep you posted). What an incredible feeling. I”ve been doing guest blog posts here and there, marketing and sharing and suddenly, there she was. I downloaded it to my Kindle right away. As soon as I flipped to the title page, I started to cry. I’d realized my dream of being published.
