Shameless Plug - if you're an author

I have not written books, but if I may, I shall plug two written by real life friends. One is a bio, the other a cookbook

Tupelo’s Table Spoon: A collection of recipes written by a Mouse !: Boyle, Mrs Carole R: 9798577223007: AmazonSmile: Books

And this one written by the lady I used to work for. So yes, I am mentioned and pictured in the book
I May Have CP But It Doesn't Have Me: Henchen, Kimberly A.: 9781478778394: AmazonSmile: Books


View attachment 232721
They both look interesting!!
 
I put a small piece of my book on there, I have not had a real hard time, selling this book, but sometimes it slows down, at the store I had online, I sold a total of 5100, on Amazon, I have sold close to three hundred.
 
If I can be straightforward, my only purpose has been to try to get important information out there- not any personal recognition, page-views, or sales. But although I've made numerous attempts during the last year or so, the fact that there's never been a single comment on any shows no one is really interested.

Again, it's not about me, it's lack of interest in the subjects that I find extremely discouraging. It makes me think I don't belong on this forum, except for the age factor.
 
If I can be straightforward, my only purpose has been to try to get important information out there- not any personal recognition, page-views, or sales. But although I've made numerous attempts during the last year or so, the fact that there's never been a single comment on any shows no one is really interested.

Again, it's not about me, it's lack of interest in the subjects that I find extremely discouraging. It makes me think I don't belong on this forum, except for the age factor.
I feel the sam @JaniceM, about money not being the important thing.
I want to get the words of the angels out to the people. That's the important goal.
 
If I can be straightforward, my only purpose has been to try to get important information out there- not any personal recognition, page-views, or sales. But although I've made numerous attempts during the last year or so, the fact that there's never been a single comment on any shows no one is really interested.

Again, it's not about me, it's lack of interest in the subjects that I find extremely discouraging. It makes me think I don't belong on this forum, except for the age factor.
I like for you to give me idea's.
 
I recently found out that my novel The Lion and the Nurse is now available for free on the Internet Library. Somehow, someone uploaded it there. I am tickled pink. That site has a lot of books on it, and they are all free to read. Just sign up to read and "borrow" the book. It's as simple as that. The Lion and the Nurse is about a nurse who goes to Kos Island to nurse her ailing mother (who is also a matchmaker), and ends up falling in love. I tried to make it entertaining and funny. I have been to Kos Island a few times. It is located in the Dodecanese Islands of Greece. If you have a chance to read it, let me know what you think. Thanks! :)

https://archive.org/details/lionnursenovel0000apos
 
I like for you to give me idea's.
Thank you!

(I'm typing this in a .doc to c/p, and hope the format is ok)

I currently have three books out there. There were two reasons I wrote this book. First, if my experiences can be helpful to someone else, it was worth writing. Second, I don't know anyone who has all the facts- the information in this book- so I believed it was time I "had my say" to clear up misunderstandings.

When I was a young child, I already knew there was something wrong with my mother- other people didn't do the things she did, didn't act the way she acted. Much later, I concluded she had Narcissistic Personality Disorder. While she had all the characteristics, the most troublesome were her sense of entitlement over other people and to other people's lives, and total lack of empathy that ranged from scary to sickening. Her mother shared those characteristics.

My mother occasionally remarked that she'd wanted two kids, and had two kids. When I showed up many years later, I guess the inconvenience accounted for a comment she made throughout the years: "I own your life! I bought it!"



She prided herself on her ability to make anyone believe anything- no matter how outrageous. Not only did she often say so, I knew of some almighty scams she came up with to get what she wanted out of some other people, and, as they were much older than I, solid citizens, well-liked and well-known in their communities, I knew I didn't stand a chance.

Her sense of entitlement to my life came down to one goal: that I would never leave her house, that I'd take on her responsibilities in her home until either one of us died. Her con to achieve that goal was to make people believe I was incapable of living on my own and having an independent life.

Stunned to this day about how people can be so gullible, she managed to get people to believe I was intellectually-substandard, grossly immoral, and very lazy. During my earliest years, she started by presenting me as Different- that I was not like other people, and could not have the opportunities they had.

The first situation I was aware of: when my older siblings were small children, they were sent to Sunday School, but I was denied the opportunity when I reached the appropriate age. Next, she pressured me to mispronounce words; I was praised when I complied, but when I refused and said words correctly she'd retort "Who do you think you are?!" and "You think you're really something, don't you?!" Mispronouncing words was the reason I lost a second-grade spelling bee.
She also encouraged me to use baby-talk throughout elementary school.


Cons and scams went on throughout the years and decades. Shortly after I graduated from high school, my father's attitude and behavior toward me changed. Throughout my childhood and teenage years he'd been a good father, so it was scary when he turned into a male version of her. My eldest brother and I had a compatible plan: when I finished school, I could live with him and he would put me through college. I guess I somehow knew this would not happen. Although I'd been legal age in my home state for more than three years, I needed police assistance to safely get myself and some belongings out of her house.

In one instance I was scammed by a much-older cousin; on two other occasions I fell for my mother's scams. Regardless of age or time-frame, threats continued: threats of physical violence, but, worse, "if you ever dare cross me, I'll convince the authorities you're not quite right, and have you put away." When I had kids- even when the oldest was on the way, not yet born, she began using them against me, too. If I were to do anything other than what she demanded, she'd misrepresent me as an unfit mother and take my children away from me.

Even when I was on the opposite side of the country, she always found individuals in my location that would go along with what she wanted. When I was nearby, her two main requirements were that I not get a job so I could save up money to move, and that I not associate with anyone outside the family because old friends or neighbors might see what was going on and help me. The only person on my side was my aunt who was supportive, compassionate, and helped as much as she could, but she was very much afraid of my mother (her younger sister).

When I was young, I'd had pen-pals- many, many of them. It occurred to me perhaps individuals who weren't involved in this mess might have advice, so I started this practice again. However, it didn't occur to me there was a difference: my youthful pen-pals talked about music and similar interests, but those I began writing to when I was middle-aged had much different lifestyles than myself. Yet, if you're in a desperate situation and someone offers hope, it's like a life-raft tossed to a drowning person- you don't know it's not a life-raft until it's too late. As I explain it: if you look for answers in the wrong places, you'll find the wrong answers. One pen-pal- a woman around my age- agreed my life sucked, and I deserved better. She said my life could change for the better, but there was something I must do: I must 'work the Twelve Steps.' So, although I'd never used drugs, didn't have a drinking problem and hadn't even had a drink in more than six years, I followed her advice, and, an expression I'd heard in the past, went from the frying pan into the fire.

GSB.jpg
 
1. Long before I wrote this article https://medium.com/@c.a.sheckels/recovered-memories-learning-from-the-past-268aab93863e I wrote a post on this subject. I think it included a link to an online news magazine that covered one specific case. After I noticed the post had had well over 200 views, without a single comment, I gave up.


2. I wrote this article https://discover.hubpages.com/politics/Housing-Programs-Helpful-or-Harmful mainly to expose an agency that is using a housing-for-homeless program. However, this is not simply a local issue, it's backfiring all around the United States. I included links to articles written by a journalist who works with a housing agency in New York, but have also read articles by personal bloggers and addiction specialists.
Although I wouldn't know who the person was, only one member was interested enough to read it.


3. A member posted interesting, important information on cults; various others contributed information. While most appeared to be copy/pastes from sites like Wiki, my contribution was the introduction from one of my books (not the one I'm mentioning here). Yet there wasn't a single comment.


4. What bothered me the most: I posted a poem I'd written long ago about a local tragedy; although I didn't include names or details of the crime, an innocent teenager who would never have harmed anyone was 'taken in' by a group of individuals in their twenties. He believed they were his friends. One of these individuals slit his throat, and when that didn't kill him they beat and stabbed him til he was dead.
This is the most violent environment I've ever been in, and this crime was only one example. I deleted the poem because nobody said anything, seemed no one thought it was interesting enough to comment on.


I just get very discouraged when it seems no one cares about serious problems that are going on.
 
Thank you!

(I'm typing this in a .doc to c/p, and hope the format is ok)

I currently have three books out there. There were two reasons I wrote this book. First, if my experiences can be helpful to someone else, it was worth writing. Second, I don't know anyone who has all the facts- the information in this book- so I believed it was time I "had my say" to clear up misunderstandings.

When I was a young child, I already knew there was something wrong with my mother- other people didn't do the things she did, didn't act the way she acted. Much later, I concluded she had Narcissistic Personality Disorder. While she had all the characteristics, the most troublesome were her sense of entitlement over other people and to other people's lives, and total lack of empathy that ranged from scary to sickening. Her mother shared those characteristics.

My mother occasionally remarked that she'd wanted two kids, and had two kids. When I showed up many years later, I guess the inconvenience accounted for a comment she made throughout the years: "I own your life! I bought it!"



She prided herself on her ability to make anyone believe anything- no matter how outrageous. Not only did she often say so, I knew of some almighty scams she came up with to get what she wanted out of some other people, and, as they were much older than I, solid citizens, well-liked and well-known in their communities, I knew I didn't stand a chance.

Her sense of entitlement to my life came down to one goal: that I would never leave her house, that I'd take on her responsibilities in her home until either one of us died. Her con to achieve that goal was to make people believe I was incapable of living on my own and having an independent life.

Stunned to this day about how people can be so gullible, she managed to get people to believe I was intellectually-substandard, grossly immoral, and very lazy. During my earliest years, she started by presenting me as Different- that I was not like other people, and could not have the opportunities they had.

The first situation I was aware of: when my older siblings were small children, they were sent to Sunday School, but I was denied the opportunity when I reached the appropriate age. Next, she pressured me to mispronounce words; I was praised when I complied, but when I refused and said words correctly she'd retort "Who do you think you are?!" and "You think you're really something, don't you?!" Mispronouncing words was the reason I lost a second-grade spelling bee.
She also encouraged me to use baby-talk throughout elementary school.


Cons and scams went on throughout the years and decades. Shortly after I graduated from high school, my father's attitude and behavior toward me changed. Throughout my childhood and teenage years he'd been a good father, so it was scary when he turned into a male version of her. My eldest brother and I had a compatible plan: when I finished school, I could live with him and he would put me through college. I guess I somehow knew this would not happen. Although I'd been legal age in my home state for more than three years, I needed police assistance to safely get myself and some belongings out of her house.

In one instance I was scammed by a much-older cousin; on two other occasions I fell for my mother's scams. Regardless of age or time-frame, threats continued: threats of physical violence, but, worse, "if you ever dare cross me, I'll convince the authorities you're not quite right, and have you put away." When I had kids- even when the oldest was on the way, not yet born, she began using them against me, too. If I were to do anything other than what she demanded, she'd misrepresent me as an unfit mother and take my children away from me.

Even when I was on the opposite side of the country, she always found individuals in my location that would go along with what she wanted. When I was nearby, her two main requirements were that I not get a job so I could save up money to move, and that I not associate with anyone outside the family because old friends or neighbors might see what was going on and help me. The only person on my side was my aunt who was supportive, compassionate, and helped as much as she could, but she was very much afraid of my mother (her younger sister).

When I was young, I'd had pen-pals- many, many of them. It occurred to me perhaps individuals who weren't involved in this mess might have advice, so I started this practice again. However, it didn't occur to me there was a difference: my youthful pen-pals talked about music and similar interests, but those I began writing to when I was middle-aged had much different lifestyles than myself. Yet, if you're in a desperate situation and someone offers hope, it's like a life-raft tossed to a drowning person- you don't know it's not a life-raft until it's too late. As I explain it: if you look for answers in the wrong places, you'll find the wrong answers. One pen-pal- a woman around my age- agreed my life sucked, and I deserved better. She said my life could change for the better, but there was something I must do: I must 'work the Twelve Steps.' So, although I'd never used drugs, didn't have a drinking problem and hadn't even had a drink in more than six years, I followed her advice, and, an expression I'd heard in the past, went from the frying pan into the fire.

View attachment 234402
First of all, congratulations on writing your book, @JaniceM! It takes courage to write about this! I have experienced narcissistic personalities in my life and can relate very well! I am sorry you went through this in your life. At the same time, I am glad you were able to put this into words and share it with others who would benefit from it. I would be interested in reading your book(s), if possible.
 
1. Long before I wrote this article https://medium.com/@c.a.sheckels/recovered-memories-learning-from-the-past-268aab93863e I wrote a post on this subject. I think it included a link to an online news magazine that covered one specific case. After I noticed the post had had well over 200 views, without a single comment, I gave up.


2. I wrote this article https://discover.hubpages.com/politics/Housing-Programs-Helpful-or-Harmful mainly to expose an agency that is using a housing-for-homeless program. However, this is not simply a local issue, it's backfiring all around the United States. I included links to articles written by a journalist who works with a housing agency in New York, but have also read articles by personal bloggers and addiction specialists.
Although I wouldn't know who the person was, only one member was interested enough to read it.


3. A member posted interesting, important information on cults; various others contributed information. While most appeared to be copy/pastes from sites like Wiki, my contribution was the introduction from one of my books (not the one I'm mentioning here). Yet there wasn't a single comment.


4. What bothered me the most: I posted a poem I'd written long ago about a local tragedy; although I didn't include names or details of the crime, an innocent teenager who would never have harmed anyone was 'taken in' by a group of individuals in their twenties. He believed they were his friends. One of these individuals slit his throat, and when that didn't kill him they beat and stabbed him til he was dead.
This is the most violent environment I've ever been in, and this crime was only one example. I deleted the poem because nobody said anything, seemed no one thought it was interesting enough to comment on.


I just get very discouraged when it seems no one cares about serious problems that are going on.
I understand the feeling when we post our poetry or writing and get no comments or feedback! You might want to consider joining a local writing group of like-minded people who will get to know you and can provide feedback and encouragement. I have done that. But no matter if you get comments or not, that shouldn't stop you from writing, because many times famous authors and poets were not read and yet they kept writing - people were just not ready for them or the topic was painful, or whatever. It was an internal desire to write that drove them on. They did not really depend on external rewards. Often, long after they passed, did the authors and poets become famous. So I would recommend for you to keep writing your poetry. Make a portfolio of it. Gather at least 60-80 poems, and then make a poetry book. I don't know if you've written a poetry book or not, but these are my thoughts. Good luck with your writing!
 
Hey @JaniceM I read both of the articles you provided the links to. You are a good writer, and a logical thinker. Even handed, I saw no strong bias, but still good critical analysis. We need more media folks like you!

What bothered me the most: I posted a poem I'd written long ago about a local tragedy; ... I deleted the poem because nobody said anything, seemed no one thought it was interesting enough to comment on.
Don't assume that, stories like this one can be hard to comment on, hard to think about, and hard to form a coherent response that does the story justice. I know when someone posts something like that here I can be at a loss of words to respond, but it does not mean I don't care. Why not post your poem on SF?
 
I understand the feeling when we post our poetry or writing and get no comments or feedback! You might want to consider joining a local writing group of like-minded people who will get to know you and can provide feedback and encouragement. I have done that. But no matter if you get comments or not, that shouldn't stop you from writing, because many times famous authors and poets were not read and yet they kept writing - people were just not ready for them or the topic was painful, or whatever. It was an internal desire to write that drove them on. They did not really depend on external rewards. Often, long after they passed, did the authors and poets become famous. So I would recommend for you to keep writing your poetry. Make a portfolio of it. Gather at least 60-80 poems, and then make a poetry book. I don't know if you've written a poetry book or not, but these are my thoughts. Good luck with your writing!
One thing I've learned is I cannot do creative writing on a computer, so that's the main reason I stopped because I can't write by hand anymore.
 
Hey @JaniceM I read both of the articles you provided the links to. You are a good writer, and a logical thinker. Even handed, I saw no strong bias, but still good critical analysis. We need more media folks like you!


Don't assume that, stories like this one can be hard to comment on, hard to think about, and hard to form a coherent response that does the story justice. I know when someone posts something like that here I can be at a loss of words to respond, but it does not mean I don't care. Why not post your poem on SF?
I did post it here a few months ago.

Thank you for the compliments on the articles! I do appreciate it!
In the distant past, I worked for in-print newspapers; for many years I've been working for online companies, but since covid started work ranges from rare to nonexistent.
Occasionally I come up with ideas for articles; Medium and Hubpages are the only places I found to post them.
 
Well, post it if you are comfortable and its not too much trouble. I will read it!
Will do- when I find it. Thanks!!

edited to add: I stopped writing structured poetry when I was in my mid-twenties. While books and articles are for "people"- anyone who is interested, that is- creative writing was for "myself," a creative outlet. So I'm not claiming it's good writing.
 
Last edited:
Thank you!

(I'm typing this in a .doc to c/p, and hope the format is ok)

I currently have three books out there. There were two reasons I wrote this book. First, if my experiences can be helpful to someone else, it was worth writing. Second, I don't know anyone who has all the facts- the information in this book- so I believed it was time I "had my say" to clear up misunderstandings.

When I was a young child, I already knew there was something wrong with my mother- other people didn't do the things she did, didn't act the way she acted. Much later, I concluded she had Narcissistic Personality Disorder. While she had all the characteristics, the most troublesome were her sense of entitlement over other people and to other people's lives, and total lack of empathy that ranged from scary to sickening. Her mother shared those characteristics.

My mother occasionally remarked that she'd wanted two kids, and had two kids. When I showed up many years later, I guess the inconvenience accounted for a comment she made throughout the years: "I own your life! I bought it!"



She prided herself on her ability to make anyone believe anything- no matter how outrageous. Not only did she often say so, I knew of some almighty scams she came up with to get what she wanted out of some other people, and, as they were much older than I, solid citizens, well-liked and well-known in their communities, I knew I didn't stand a chance.

Her sense of entitlement to my life came down to one goal: that I would never leave her house, that I'd take on her responsibilities in her home until either one of us died. Her con to achieve that goal was to make people believe I was incapable of living on my own and having an independent life.

Stunned to this day about how people can be so gullible, she managed to get people to believe I was intellectually-substandard, grossly immoral, and very lazy. During my earliest years, she started by presenting me as Different- that I was not like other people, and could not have the opportunities they had.

The first situation I was aware of: when my older siblings were small children, they were sent to Sunday School, but I was denied the opportunity when I reached the appropriate age. Next, she pressured me to mispronounce words; I was praised when I complied, but when I refused and said words correctly she'd retort "Who do you think you are?!" and "You think you're really something, don't you?!" Mispronouncing words was the reason I lost a second-grade spelling bee.
She also encouraged me to use baby-talk throughout elementary school.


Cons and scams went on throughout the years and decades. Shortly after I graduated from high school, my father's attitude and behavior toward me changed. Throughout my childhood and teenage years he'd been a good father, so it was scary when he turned into a male version of her. My eldest brother and I had a compatible plan: when I finished school, I could live with him and he would put me through college. I guess I somehow knew this would not happen. Although I'd been legal age in my home state for more than three years, I needed police assistance to safely get myself and some belongings out of her house.

In one instance I was scammed by a much-older cousin; on two other occasions I fell for my mother's scams. Regardless of age or time-frame, threats continued: threats of physical violence, but, worse, "if you ever dare cross me, I'll convince the authorities you're not quite right, and have you put away." When I had kids- even when the oldest was on the way, not yet born, she began using them against me, too. If I were to do anything other than what she demanded, she'd misrepresent me as an unfit mother and take my children away from me.

Even when I was on the opposite side of the country, she always found individuals in my location that would go along with what she wanted. When I was nearby, her two main requirements were that I not get a job so I could save up money to move, and that I not associate with anyone outside the family because old friends or neighbors might see what was going on and help me. The only person on my side was my aunt who was supportive, compassionate, and helped as much as she could, but she was very much afraid of my mother (her younger sister).

When I was young, I'd had pen-pals- many, many of them. It occurred to me perhaps individuals who weren't involved in this mess might have advice, so I started this practice again. However, it didn't occur to me there was a difference: my youthful pen-pals talked about music and similar interests, but those I began writing to when I was middle-aged had much different lifestyles than myself. Yet, if you're in a desperate situation and someone offers hope, it's like a life-raft tossed to a drowning person- you don't know it's not a life-raft until it's too late. As I explain it: if you look for answers in the wrong places, you'll find the wrong answers. One pen-pal- a woman around my age- agreed my life sucked, and I deserved better. She said my life could change for the better, but there was something I must do: I must 'work the Twelve Steps.' So, although I'd never used drugs, didn't have a drinking problem and hadn't even had a drink in more than six years, I followed her advice, and, an expression I'd heard in the past, went from the frying pan into the fire.

View attachment 234402
Do you have a link where we can get your book?
 
Well, post it if you are comfortable and its not too much trouble. I will read it!

City Streets


In the field of stone and concrete
Each day new frozen footsteps
Trudge the remainder of his blood
Into oblivion.
The jungle as if a tombstone
Graceless wonder hiding forgotten names
Faces carved into no one's memory
Those who lived and died
Without a voice.

How in any vision of reality
Where the continuation of life and
Threat of death being near the same
Could the former be but stark emptiness
The latter as a preferable end
In an unmoving swirl of helplessness
That eats away at the soul
And erodes the will to live.

And the godless and self-proclaimed godly alike
They turn their heads and turn away
The sight of broken birds and fallen angels
Gnawing at their lack of conscience to care.

One more death, to them, is like
Another dried leaf..
Crunched under sturdy boots of apathy
And blown away in the wind.
 
Not exactly a book, but a series of stories about trips we have taken, planes I have flown, and trains ridden on. Go to the trip story page to read them. Down at the bottom are some of my travels before I met my wife. Enjoy!
www.stevekathytravels.com
@bowmore, I just finished reading:

The 8-day Mexican Rivier cruise during New Years 2016-17 was Fascinating! Wonderful photos! I felt as if I were there! I liked the ending with the green flash and "matters of the heart." Well written!
http://www.stevekathytravels.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/newyear2016.pdf

Interesting reading about your flying and the photos!
http://www.stevekathytravels.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/t6.pdf

When I get a chance, will read the other stories. By the way, the photo of you and your wife is lovely!
 
City Streets


In the field of stone and concrete
Each day new frozen footsteps
Trudge the remainder of his blood
Into oblivion.
The jungle as if a tombstone
Graceless wonder hiding forgotten names
Faces carved into no one's memory
Those who lived and died
Without a voice.

How in any vision of reality
Where the continuation of life and
Threat of death being near the same
Could the former be but stark emptiness
The latter as a preferable end
In an unmoving swirl of helplessness
That eats away at the soul
And erodes the will to live.

And the godless and self-proclaimed godly alike
They turn their heads and turn away
The sight of broken birds and fallen angels
Gnawing at their lack of conscience to care.

One more death, to them, is like
Another dried leaf..
Crunched under sturdy boots of apathy
And blown away in the wind.
Your poem was full of imagery and the mood was dark ("unmoving swirl of helplessness" and "erodes the will to live."). I can picture the city streets and the concrete "jungle." It makes one pause and think. Thank you for sharing, @JaniceM. What would be a solution to this? Have you written a poem suggesting hope to those living in this "jungle" or to those who could help, how to help those in need? Just a thought.
 


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