All's fair in love and war ... but not in politics!

I do not watch "The View." As a Catholic, it makes my stomach roll and my ears bleed to listen to Joy Behar bash the religion of my choice every chance she gets. She sits there and calls people profane names, makes vile judgements, and tosses out threats. Someone needs to smack the shit out of her. Just the mention of her name or an image of her face (excuse the puke-worthy image to the right) makes my skin crawl and my uvula twitch.  Her vitriol has not only turned me off to the show, but off to the entire ABC network for the most part. Seriously. In the past five years, I've only watched two shows on the network -- "V" and "The River." And they were DVRed so I could skip through all the commercials and network promos.

So, it was an oddity when I flipped the TV to the show on the morning of Friday, May 11th. I had just seen a post on Twitter saying that E.L. James, author of "Fifty Shades of Grey" for those of you who've been living under a rock, was about to be interviewed on the show. And, having been absolutely smitten with Christian Grey since April 20, 2012, I had to tune in. After the DVR got over its "Are you serious? You want me to tune into this channel?!?" shock and changed from the Disney Channel, James wasn't on yet and I ended up catching the tail end of an interview with Eva Longoria before the show went to a commercial break.


It is at this point that I should reveal the purpose for this blog. At the end of her interview, Longoria was answering a question about her involvement with the Obama 2012 campaign and she made a comment about how she had many "Republican friends and fans," that they were nice, well-meaning people, but that "as a Latina woman," she felt she had to support Obama.

And that made me wonder. Why is it that liberals -- be them celebrities like Longoria or your relatively unknown, struggling book authors -- are free to express political opinions but their conservative counterparts are not?

Now, I used to be a raging liberal -- supporter of Bill Clinton in 1992 and 1996 and campaigner for Al Gore in 2000. I spent many Saturday mornings in front of the now-defunct Palmetto State Medical Center on Laurens Road in Greenville, South Carolina escorting women into the clinic and to block them and their cars from the pro-lifers next door who were led by the notorious Ruth Trippi.

As the years have gone by and I've experienced things and had to deal with two problem pregnancies (both of which were monitored closely through ultrasounds at each visit and which landed me on bed rest with preterm labor problems), I have had a change of heart in many aspects of my life thus causing my pendulum to swing from the far left to right of center. I have become conservative, agreeing with the Tea Party in many areas, but remained a liberal, HSUS/ N.O.W.-esque voter in others.

With this change, I have learned to shy away from talking about my political opinions. The rhetoric and mud-slinging are annoying. I tire of liberals calling me a Rush Limbaugh Republican and conservatives calling me a Nancy Pelosi Democrat. I am neither. I think both parties have good things for which they stand ... but that they both are neck deep in complete bullshit, too. Being more jaded with the current two-party system, I've gone into the booth and voted for candidates instead of punching a straight party ticket since 2004. I do my homework and vote for the best person for the job, not just some faceless candidate who happens to have a (D) or (R) by their name.

Close friends and family know this about me. They also know that I am a struggling first-time author who is trying to find a niche and a way to be discovered by the public. "Don't dare post political things on your Facebook, Twitter, or your website!" I have been warned. "You don't want to be blacklisted for not being a staunch liberal!" "You'll never get noticed if you admit to holding any conservative values!"

Now, I do agree with them to a certain degree. I left my former publishing company, Fantasy Island Book Publishing, after becoming sickened by the owner's vulgar and hateful political rants, as well as his personal attacks against people who dared disagree with him in his views or the way he ran the company. Many of the authors still with the company are raging liberals and freely post their views for the world to see. But, I have taken the advice given by people I trust and stayed neutral. But when I really think about it, I have to wonder  why? Why should I have to remain silent? Should I really fear speaking my mind?

I am an unknown author so what do I have to lose by stepping out from behind my self-made wall and admitting here and now that I will be supporting Mitt Romney in the election this November? Nothing. And even if I were famous, why should I fear that support? Why can't I enjoy the same freedom of speech as my more liberal counterparts?  Why can't I be given the same respect for that choice? After all, isn't that part of the liberal mantra? Freedom to choose something without a backlash? Without fear?

I will be voting for Mitt Romney for many reasons, none of which have to do with President Obama's race (something people love to throw out at those who aren't supporting him), his religion (I could care less about his faith of choice), or his birthplace.  From the tax hike that is the Affordable Care Act and the problems that will come with it to the failure to revamp our economy, I tire of this administration. I tire of the constant "Blame Bush" rhetoric and the constant bypassing of Congress. I tire of the class warfare. (Trust me, I am NOT rich. My family pretty much lives paycheck to paycheck.) And don't get me started on the protection of Eric Holder after the Fast and Furious debacle!

These are just a few of the reasons for my rocking the red this year and I am more than happy to discuss them should you be curious.

In ending, I don't want live in fear of offending people, of harming my book because I happen to be more Elisabeth Hasselbeck than Joy Behar. I sincerely hope to one day have fans on both sides of the aisle, who are open to other views and ideas without being offensive or close-minded.  Because that is what life is about -- variety. How boring would it be if we all agreed 100%?  And my independent political views, however crazy they might be, have nothing to do with my book or what happens between their covers. As a matter of fact, my ARMS OF SERENDIPITY series is devoid of any political views.  There are none espoused in book one, HARBINGER IN THE MIST. Book two, FLIGHT OF THE GRIGORI, is currently being edited and is silent on politics as well. 


So, let the race to November begin, but let's not lose sight of the fact that in the end, we're all on the same team here. Berating each other, name calling, and outright hostility gets us nowhere. Perhaps someone should tell Behar that.

Go USA!

How do you spell relief?

I might be showing my age here, but do you remember that old 1980's commercial where Heisman Trophy winner Roger Staubach walked around the city with a funky, silver microphone asking people, "How do you spell relief?"

Of course, the buinessmen and women would always say "R-O-L-A-I-D-S!"

This past weekend was one of those weekends where anxiety, over indulgence of food, and lack of sleep left me seeking any kind of relief today. You see, when I'm nervous, I eat. And when I eat, I eat big. Good food is my Valium. And I started OD-ing on it Friday. You'd think Rolaids would be my answer, too. But it's more complicated than that.

I had gone to be Thursday night knowing in a few hours the big, freebie weekend ushering in the the debut of my novel Harbinger in the Mist would begin. It was to be available to be downloaded for free all weekend. I went to bed wondering if anyone would notice it was free, if anyone would download it. I worried that I'd end the weekend depressed because it had zero downloads. I caught only a couple of hours sleep that night. After taking my oldest to school Friday morning, I went about making chicken parmesean instead of waking the laptop and logging on to the Amazon KDP site to see if I'd gotten any downloads yet.

Now I make a mean chicken parmesean. Seriously. It's not some slapped-together-from-frozen-chicken-patties-and-spaghetti-sauce thing. This is a from-scratch, rolling-in-breadcrumbs, hour-long dish to make.  It's time consuming but yummy. If you want the recipe, let me know.

By 11 a.m., I'd already eaten breakfast (something I never, ever do) and had a meal baking in the oven. The antsies got the best of me and I log into my KDP account. I sent my husband a text half in shock that the book had already been download 117 times and half wondering if that was a halfway decent number.
I turned the laptop off and did some laundry, made a refrigerator chocolate cheesecake (uber yummy and easy to make ... maybe I'll have to start posting recipes here...), and played a game on the Wii. I even picked the Galaxy Tab back up and began re-reading The Hunger Games. Nothing eased that ever growing tapping in the back of my mind, like a leaky faucet while you're trying to sleep. I had to log back on, just had to. But I resisted with the help of a pint of strawberries. 

Once I'd picked my oldest up from school, I came back home and took a nap with the toddler. My husband came home from work and began reheating food. The aroma woke me. We ate dinner and I succumbed to temptation and logged back on. I nearly peed my pants. Not only had the number gone way up, but the book was No. 6 in the Amazon Top 100 Free Downloads for its category... which is the same as the Twilight saga. I took some screen prints and posted this on my Facebook page:



604 downloads was twice the amount I'd hope to achieve during the three-day freebie.

That was all she wrote. I spent most of Friday night refreshing the KDP page. And with each refresh, a couple of more downloads were added. I slept for a few hours before jumping up and jerking on jeans and a tee shirt. I managed one quick data check before running out the door to meet the uber-awesome Lorrie Gunn for a lunch day full of website stuff and general frivolity.

Holy smokes, I was over 800 downloads and holding strong to the No. 3 spot on Amazon.

I posted the following on my Facebook as I slipped my feet into a pair of old Crocs:

"As of 10:20 a.m., the book is THIRD in the Amazon Top 100 Free ebooks for its category (wich is the same category as the "Twilight" series) and its been downloaded 863 times here in the US, 80 times in the UK, and 21 times in Germany (that's was .de means, right?) Nice!"

But the entire time we were at the restaurant, I was sneaking peeks at the data and watching it sneak toward 1,000 downloads.

As the evening passed, I managed to spend some quality, computer-freee time with the kiddos. We colored eggs, jumped on the trampoline, fed the ducks at the duck pond, made sun catchers, and ate dinner. But that same tapping was pulling at my brain. I snuck a peek on the iPhone while the kids were looking elsewhere.  We were at 1,042 downloads. I texted my husband again. He, too, was excited because up until this point, the book had been little more than a poorly written file on my computer. The rewriting and editing process with Ragz books had been gruelling, but these stats told me -- an unknown author -- that it was all worth it. Here were real people downloading this book, reading it even.

My supper began to churn and I turned the computer off. I took a long, hot bath, helped the Easter Bunny with his job, and collapsed into bed. I hadn't had very much sleep the past couple of nights so, thankfully, sleep found me quickly.

 Sunday morning showed a slowing of downloads, which increased the anxiety. After seeing the 1,150 stat, I went into Easter mode. I manage not to check in again until just after two when I peeked with my phone. I took a screen captured and texted it to my husband. It seemed that theflurry of readers had slowed to a trickle.

But still, 1,340 downloads was so much more than I'd hoped for.

I was sad as the rate crawled through the evening. Then shocked as it sped back up that night. At 10:05 p.m., I sent a text to my husband telling him that we'd just hit 1,472 downloads and that "I sooooo want to hit the 1,500 mark before the freebie ends."  I knew it was doubtful that I'd make that mark, but I could dream, right?

It must be noted that my birthday is November 11th. In numerology, 11 is a master number that is never broken down. 11/11, 11:11, or 1,111 are also seen by some as "angel numbers." It's always been a number that I've found magical in a way, so it came as a big shock when I picked up the iPhone in the middle of a movie and checked the stats. Note the time and the downloads number.

With time waning and downloads slowing again, I went to bed happy that I'd had five times the number of U.S. downloads for which I'd originally hoped.  No matter what, I can always say that, "I am a published author. People have read my book."

I might never name a cent off the novel, but I know that at least 1,500 people - not counting my family and close friends that already had copies of the ebook - had voluntarily downloaded and read something on which I had worked so very hard.

I lifted some candy from each of the girls' massive Easter hauls and cuddled into bed with mixed emotions. All these people downloaded the book. Now what?

Would they like it? Would they hate it? Would I be strapped with a bunch of reviews giving me 1's and 2's?

I mentioned this anxiety to a group of fellow authors and was told to calm down and to understand that the numbers would virtually cease  for the next few weeks until everyone had read the book and (hopefully) started to tell others. Even then, the numbers would be a trickle, that the book really needs to be out at least a year before the numbers start rolling in.

<<big sigh>>

I checked my stats this evening, curious as to what the final promo numbers were. I was excited to see that I had not only gotten 71 more downloads after I turned everything off  Sunday night, but that sometime during the day I had also made a couple of actual sales. Only in my house would an author be tickled over selling a measly six books. But I am. It means that there are other people out there interested in a story that has been playing out in my brain since 2003.



 Looking back, I finally know that answer to Staubach's question. How do I spell relief?

F-A-N-B-A-S-E.  

Sure, after all I ate this weekend, a roll of Rolaids might be beneficial, but it wouldn't be pure relief.  Because nothing would be more therapeutic than knowing that other people love Lindsey's story as much as I do.

So, will I ever find "relief"? Only time will tell.