What am I worth?

I have changed my tactics to writing, blogging, and book selling, in large part because I am not where I want to be. Obviously, if you're not where you want to be, you need to do something differently. As part of that, I've been reading a lot. I've joined a thousand and one groups, forums, mailing lists - you name it. I've reached out to who knows how many different blogs, writers, publicity gurus etc.

About 75% of the time these people write back, in some way. Usually it is a helpful way.

In one particular instance, it was a situation where the person was making the age old case that you have to spend money to make money.

Now between the two of us, my husband and I have a little under $40k of student debt. My husband works in an industry that does not support its employees, in fact, they kind of shit all over them and then stomp on them, no matter how well trained they are. Of course, he makes too much money for us to qualify for government assistance. Our parents happen to live in one of the most expensive housing markets in the country, which means we have to live with them in order to have a place to stay and food to eat. My son has health care because of the ACA. Because of where we live, we have to commute to jobs, and because of a lack of childcare, it doesn't really make sense for me to work at this point.

This is the stress I carry on my shoulders every day.

I have tried a thousand and one tactics already to get my books into readers hands, and here is this person saying the only way I can be successful is by spending money. Money. Something I don't have right now - haven't had for a few years.

I wrote the guy and he actually wrote back, and said nothing I didn't already know. I was grateful he actually responded, but the response did something to me that was unexpected. He wasn't mean, in fact, he was very professional. But it was the fact that he told me things I already knew - things I felt like I couldn't do anything about.

I broke. I just broke. Here was this guy who was supposed to be a guru and he was telling me things I already knew. I felt so defeated.

Here I was, putting every last bit of soul and effort into this - and I still wasn't financially successful. I wasn't getting reviews. I wasn't getting people to buy my books. Granted, people love the books when they read them. Any time I talk to people about them they end up buying a copy. And loving it. Seriously. But I wasn't connecting to enough readers. People weren't coming across my books and buying them. I had a steady trickle of purchases, but nothing to write home about.

I felt like a failure. I was ready to jump off a bridge. The thought actually entered my mind. I cried the rest of the day.

Slowly reason seeped into my consciousness.

The voice (in this case my father's) said: You might not be able to buy another domain, but you could change the landing page to allow for multiple brands.
Me: Okay, I can do that. Next week on update day I can do that.
The voice: Stop 'asking' for reviews. Call in all your chips. Tell anyone and everyone who you know has read your books - I need reviews.
Me: Okay. I can do that. I'll do that.

I started doing that. I felt a little better.

The voice came back (in this case my husband's): You already knew the things this guy told you. Keep working at this. Keep tweaking things. Write a blog post about this. You have more.

I did. I felt even better.

The voice came back a third time (in this case the one in my head): There are more things I haven't done. Try them. See this through. I have a purpose. I am enough.

So here I am. I have a purpose to my writing. I want to educate empathy - specifically compassion. I want everyone to know what is possible in books, with characters, with life. I want to be a catalyst for social change. I want to leave a legacy for my son. This is my purpose.

When there is a purpose, things happen. I believe that. I have everything I need to realize my purpose. I believe I will encounter those driven to work with me. There are no accidents. No coincidences. There is will, and therefore way.

I am sharing all this because I know I'm not alone. My situation is one that has played out many times before over the centuries. I know every modern author isn't in quite as dire of straits as I am. A lot of writers have day jobs, or spouses who essentially sponsor them. I know a lot of people do not need their writing to work for them. And it is nice to have that. There is comfort in that.

I am not comfortable which is why I need you to understand exactly what is at stake for me - for people like me. I need you to know me. To understand my drive. To understand why I struggle every day to do and be more.

When you read my books, understand that through everything, I am baring myself. I am giving you a piece of me to carry with you. When you read my books, you are participating in my life through the lives of my characters. That is the gift I am giving you.

Now tell me, what is it worth?

THRIVE Book Launch Week 9: Why Everyone Needs This Book

Despite suffering, I thrive.

THRIVE is radically different from anything I've written thus far. It is memoir - and a highly personal, highly revealing memoir at that. I share things about myself in THRIVE that I have not shared to any single person, with one exception.

Christian is the one person who knew the whole story - every detail and emotional reaction.

My friends and family knew pieces, but not everything. They learned everything the first time they read the book.

And it is not an easy read. It is painful. It was painful to write. Up until this point, I have hinted but not stated explicitly. Here I will explain why. The following is just a taste of the contents of THRIVE:

• I was molested as a toddler by an older boy.
• I suffered overt misogyny and abuse at the hands of boys while growing up, even as I suffered silently with the aftereffects of my molestation.
• I was so ill in a third world country, I brushed death.
• I suffered every kind of attack a woman can suffer - stalking, following at night, verbal, emotional, and physical abuse. I was also raped by a friend in college.
• I lived in possibly the worst apartment in the developed world, which was sold to Christian and I as a reasonable place to start married life (think: no AC in a bombed out section of Phoenix and you begin to get the picture).
• I was unemployed for more of my adult life than not, including a time when multiple student loans were coming due.
• I suffered homelessness right after giving birth to my son, and struggling to accept unrealized expectations - the American Dream was my American Nightmare.

This is not everything. This is just a peek at what THRIVE contains. The book is graphic. It is not an easy read. And yet... I lived through these things and more (for details, you need to get a copy). You would never know it if I didn't tell you.

I have done so much more with my life. I am so much more than the difficulties I've experienced. And that is what this book is about. It is about using these difficult things - taking the bad and ugly, along with the good, and becoming more than before.

That is why I wrote the book. I chose to reveal these difficult, painful things, because I could not stand one more person getting blamed for their suffering. I could not stand to sit by, watching people around me not understanding the depths of pain that any person might experience, despite their station in life. I couldn't stand watching others ruined by difficulties. How could I let someone else struggle longer than they needed to when I could show them a way to not only manage, but harness their suffering? How could I stand by when I had strategies and tools at my disposal that could make a difference in the lives of individuals and their communities?

I couldn't. I couldn't any longer. I want my legacy to be something my son can take pride in - that will be a force for positive change in the world. To do that, I had to lay myself bare. I made myself vulnerable. And I know my life flies in the face of what many people think is reality. Which is exactly why I had to write THRIVE - because people have to know. Everyone needs to understand what is possible - both the levels of hidden suffering, and the potential power gained through such experience.

So please, for yourself, for your community, for your friends who have not yet broken their silence - read this book. It will open your eyes.

*********************************
LAUNCH UPDATE

Last week was big for me. I got a lot of big things accomplished.

• Published THRIVE in paperback.
• Published TRANSFORM TO THRIVE in paperback.
• Updated my author website.
• Finished revamped covers of Books 1-3 in KHLOE ALWELL series.
• Drew cover drawing for Book 4 in KHLOE.
• Finished coverart for Book 4.
• Published 2nd edition of THE BROTHERS on Smashwords.
• Published 2nd edition of LOVERS AND RIVALS on Smashwords.
• Blogged.
• Uploaded link to Patreon.
• Got 75% revamp of LILITH done.
• Pitched articles related to THRIVE to 2 different sites.
• Wrote and submitted guest post to a blog, set to go live in early July.
• Researched possibilities for audio books.

This week I would like to:

• Submit some more posts related to THRIVE
• Confirm when I need to follow up with people/media about pitches being accepted.
• Finish LILITH revamp and publish 2nd edition.
• Publish 2nd edition of KHLOE books to Amazon.
• Review potential publicist relationship.
• Pitch a guest post about women in fantasy.
• Get social media campaign figured out.
• Time to get videos done...about THRIVE?
• Blog
• Patreon

I hope this is another big week. I had a bit of down time over the weekend, and now I'm ready to jump back into the fray. I'm anxious to dig in.

Don't Be a Writer

Note: This was written to advise those thinking about pursuing, or contemplating a more professional trajectory into writing. Because, you need to know, if you didn't already, what it is really like.

The early days of a starving artist...

My dear aspiring writer, don't. Don't be a writer. This is not a job you should choose. If there is anything else you would enjoy doing, do that. This is especially true if you have remotely thin skin because you will have to defend your choice at every turn. You will have to defend your craft and your creation. This is because from the very earliest part of a writing career, you are constantly attacked.

First, everyone will tell you it is impossible. They will say it a thousand times. They will say only the superstars make it. No one, however, knows what makes a superstar, and when you ask these people how superstars become superstars, they will name someone who already made it in another field with a ghostwritten book about said field. The other true writing stars? They paid whatever dues all writers must pay and that process remains a mystery to everyone, even the stars.

Everyone will say no one knows what makes a successful book. In fact, this is one thing everyone agrees on. Family and friends don't know how writing can be successful. Agents and writers don't know what books will be successful. No one in publishing understands people's tastes. Shitty writers can make millions of sales while pure genius prose can be used as drink coasters for Big Gulps. So if you can't handle that level of unknown, just don't bother writing.

If you're impatient, you really shouldn't write. The submission process involves a painful amount of waiting. You have to submit to a thousand agents to get a read through if you are anything like the other millions of people doing the same thing. And these agents will send you letters, time and again, saying it isn't quite right. They aren't interested in repping a book they aren't totally passionate about, and your book just doesn't do it for them. They send these notes anywhere from a week after receiving your query, to never. You might never get a response at all and will have to infer that your writing just wasn't good enough for them to be your advocate.

Some people will say you should get a few stories published and that will help your chances. Maybe having a few published pieces will convince agents it is worth taking a chance on you. But you have to find the right home for your stories. You might read a bunch of magazines and think you found the right one, but your opinion doesn't matter. It's the editor's opinion that matters. And so you get rejected. Again.

Others will say, write some articles! And the process repeats with the addition of some head banging against either a table top, a wall, or both.

Finally someone will say, why don't you self-publish? But of course, self-publishing is looked down upon by pretty much everyone. You can't be writing good work if you self-publish, even though a lot of “superstars” go on to self-publish, and a lot of self-published authors go on to be picked up by traditional publishers (only after they have sold thousands upon thousands of copies under their own steam). And so many other people have self-published and have nothing to show for it. Your chances are slim, even if you follow every book marketing guru's instructions for success. After all, they have no idea what makes for a successful book.

Determined, you read more writing blogs. You read about the successes and failures of your superstars. You try to fit into the molds of different agents and publishing houses. You try to fit into the molds of the market. You make a thousand mistakes. You try again. You make more mistakes. You try again. You open a bottle of whiskey and chug half of it. You write. You lay awake at night with terrible heartburn wishing you knew what to do, that someone would mentor you to success. You rewrite. You think if you could just figure out the magical formula that mixes lead and snake oil you could get gold.

You write every day for months on end. You blog. You comment on other writers' work. You read. You drink the other half of the whiskey bottle mixed with Ethiopian coffee brewed in your French press, because this is what you have in your kitchen to eat. You have become the epitome of the starving artist. It happened some time between the first set of agent queries and one of the rounds of rejections from literary zines. You lose weight. You wear thrift shop clothes that make Macklemore proud. You only buy generic food from the grocery store, and at some point you will finally break down and go to the food pantry when your last bit of pride is stripped away.

But then, you get an email back. It is unexpected. It is a single website where you thought your work would fit in perfectly. They want to print it. SUCCESS! You got an article posted on a website besides your free blog! You're going somewhere! You're a real writer!

That iota of affirmation is all you needed to get through another series of grueling rejections of another piece of your creative soul.

The dream isn't dead. It just got a fresh shock back to life. But never fear, you'll feel this again. And again. Always just on the brink of death, you'll get jolted, pulled back in by that horrible temptress hope.

So don't be a writer. It promises a lifetime of psychological masochism. Be an accountant, or a paralegal. Be a mid-level manager in a large corporation. You'll have a regular salary and so much less psychic pain.

But if there is nothing else that you can do – if it is impossible for you to stop writing – then you must write. You can never be happy doing anything else. You will never be fulfilled. You will never have solace. You will carry the burden of creation within you and without the pen and paper, the keys and screen, you will explode. Or worse, you will rot, the stories inside their womb, dead, festering, spreading their necrosis across your spirit. It will affect every relationship. It will affect every interaction. It will mark every second of your life – with that horrible longing ache that comes when words must be written, when ideas crave expression.

No one will think worse of you publicly for becoming a writer. They will praise your courage and bravery – your commitment to the craft. They will tell you time and again how they always wanted to write a book but never had the time, the energy, or a single coherent idea. If you have completed manuscripts they will fawn over you. If you have published anything, even independently, they will gush over you, amazed they met someone, anyone, with enough discipline and courage to not only finish, but share their vulnerable creation with the world. They will marvel at you, that despite all the reasons not to be a writer, you chose it, and continue to, not because you are a masochist, but the very opposite; because you hate pain.

Because if you are a writer by birth, and do not write, your existence is sheer agony. In this case, it is much better to write, much better to subject yourself to that Promethean submission process. Then at least, there is some chance of relief. This is the curse of the writer, the burden you must bear if you are a writer. If there is no choice.

But, if you can choose, by all means, choose something else. This vocation is not for the weak of heart.

Help Me: Alexis and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Weekend

What I can't lose

It started on Friday. Christian woke up with hives and swelling everywhere. His hands were swollen. His ankles were swollen. His eyes were practically shut. I called urgent care. They wanted to know about his breathing.

"It's fine."
"Okay, well then come in here."

We went, and through the course of check in, I find out our insurance has lapsed through one thing or another (auto-debit never went through...they never contacted us...whatever the case). Then it becomes clear, despite Christian's job (or because of it?), we can't actually afford our insurance premiums. This, thanks to our collected loans, and other responsibilities (which are small compared to most households, but that's all we can manage).

I have a melt down in the waiting room.

It ends up being okay. Only just. Christian takes meds. The swelling goes down more and more. The hives abate, for the most part.

I feel like something needs to change, but I can't seem to get any interviews for jobs I do apply for, that would make childcare possible. I can't sleep well, ransacking my mind for ways that I might actually be able to support us - paths that we could pursue that would actually make a difference for our family.

Fast forward to Sunday.

My son sticks a piece of a toy in his mouth and it gets stuck. It's awkward. It's hard to remove. He's freaking out. He's coughing. His face is turning purple. My mommy sense kicks in and I reach into his mouth and yank it out myself. He is shocked. He is horrified. He cries. He wants to nurse. There is no good place. My shirt is not really the best kind for this sort of thing. We're in the middle of the restaurant, completely exposed. Christian takes him for a walk. He comes back. He wants to stay cradled in my lap. He eats half a sweet potato fry.

He cries. He grabs at me, clearly wanting to nurse. I don't finish my lunch. Christian gets everything except our child, who I am carrying in my arms, across a huge parking lot. He's over 25 pounds, wriggling, kicking, crying, and all the while grabbing at my chest to nurse. I am just trying to keep him in the middle of my body so I don't throw my alignment off worse than it is.

We get to the car. It is hot. It is small. We cram into the back seat and miraculously he's able to latch. He gets distracted and starts playing with things. We relatch. He gets distracted. We relatch. I'm  sweaty and cranky and still in shock from lunch. He gets distracted again, and I make an executive decision and put him into his car seat.

Christian declares he can't drive because of his meds. Fine. I get in the driver's seat. I'm not totally aware of how I'm still upset, but I do what I have to do. This is what I do everyday. I make it work. I check everything, I back up. The car directly behind me is backing up too. I stop. She keeps backing up, but there is no way she can move her car enough. I honk my horn. She bumps me.

I put the car in neutral and the brake on. I get out of the car and look at our bumper. Our car is over 10 years old. Hers is too. There are no dents. There are no scrapes. I see no marks on her car whatsoever, though ours has some old ones from something I can't recall.

"It was just one of those things. I looked left and you looked right," the woman says. I look at the cars again and nod. I'm upset, but no harm no foul.

There's a loud honk from behind me. I look over and there is a car. i stare the driver down. She motions as though she wants to get through - between the two cars who just had an accident. She doesn't smile at me. She doesn't wave or anything. I get into my car and this driver has the gall to drive right between our cars, before either one of us has time to move out of the way. I had visions of chasing her down, of beating her window, of taking my teenage carkeys along her freshly washed California Prius and giving her a nice cursive message to immortalize the occasion.

"Thanks you fucking bitch!" These are the words I thought because she didn't know everything I'd been through this weekend. She didn't realize I had visions of losing not only my husband and best friend, but also the fragile financial security I have. She didn't realize that I had visions of losing my son to a piece of irregularly shaped plastic just moments before. She didn't realize that I had just carried this upset, frightened little boy, wriggling, and crying, at over 25 pounds, the distance of several city blocks. She didn't realize that I had just crammed into my back seat, so that same frightened little boy, could feel an ounce of comfort before being strapped down so he could be transported safely away. She didn't realize all those things, but she did see my car bumper get tapped.

I don't know what that Prius driver had going on in her own life, but I think she could have managed a few seconds wait time to allow a young mother a little less stress to an already stressful event.

So when I did finally get my car going, and make my way out of the parking lot and on to surface street, it was amidst utterly raw weeping. Christian offered to take the wheel, but I refused. I refused in part because I did not want to move from that spot. I did not want to get out of the car. I could not take my hands from the wheel, so instead, I wept. I sobbed until my throat hurt - until the sound was impossible, until it refused to claw from my throat. The tears continued to flow from my swollen eyes. I would sniff. I would take a few gasping breaths, and this was enough to allow that wracking sound from my throat again.

I cried so hard, so long, I started to cough. I started to choke. I calmed enough to breathe. I wept some more. I wept the entire drive to my in-laws' house.

"If anyone makes any kind of comment to me, I cannot be held responsible for what I will say back. I cannot!" I said as I turned down their street. Christian nodded.

"Okay. I understand. Just go straight to the guest room. It's fine."

I parked the car. I wiped salt from my cheeks - just salt tracks because of the drought. I got out, not looking back, not thinking. I went straight to the guest room where our son takes his nap. Christian laid him down beside me, whimpering and half asleep from the car ride.

As I lay there, nursing my sleepy toddler, I breathed deeply, my limbs trembling.

I can't handle anything else. I can't. I need a break - I need to catch a break. I don't have anything left. No patience. No resources. No stamina. I am running on empty. I am bare. I am raw. I don't know what I will do if something else happens. I don't know what else I can do besides what I am doing.

So I write this, raising my hands up, empty and asking...help me.

Ignoring the News

Sunflowers to brighten the day...

I seriously need to stop reading the news. Just completely. I need a news detox. I need fluffy cats, fuzzy bunnies, and baby videos. Lots of silly baby videos. And Saturday Night Live. Some Tina Fey.

Part of the reason is I get so pissed off when I read it. Part of it is I get so depressed. I lose faith in humanity and the world generally. I just get this awful aching feeling in my gut and that small voice in my head says,

"See. We are going to Hell in a hand basket. Soda and peanuts for a charge..."

I wonder if the world will be okay for my son. What will happen to him? I wonder if I will continue to see the blue sky and green grass, or if we are doomed to super winters in some places and legendary droughts in others...forever. For the rest of my life. For the rest of his.

I wonder why leaders think it is a good idea to go to war when we aren't taking care of our recent vets, let alone civilians at home.

I wonder why people intentionally want to hurt others while couching it in terms of "personal choice" or "maintaining national identity."

Looking at pictures of new babies on my social media feed and I think, what do they have to look forward to? Is it enough to be fed, be loved, and have a place to sleep? Is that enough? Because it feels like nothing else is certain.

Despite these feelings of desperation and depression, I cling to my one true solace - my one true love - my words. Precious, perfect, wonderful words. At least I write the light as well as the dark. That is some solace. And maybe someone reading it will be impacted in a positive way. I can't know. I can only hope. But the hope is what keeps me going.

My most consuming project is not Khloe, though I love that series and gives me hope. No. My most consuming project is dark, difficult, and real. It really happened. That is what makes it so painful, so awful. And I relive it as I write. I relive every second. Anyone who has experienced what I have knows this. When you write, when you talk, it is being back there. And I don't do it because I hate myself, or I want to beat myself up. I relive every second in hopes the lessons I learned, my experiences, were not a simple personal thing, but something that others can grab on to. I want someone else to read about me and know, in her heart of hearts, "I am more than this," and "I am not alone."

We are never alone. I hold on to this thought every day.

There is my husband, who can make me laugh at the drop of a hat. He has this magical ability to crack my mother into hysterics, which makes everyone laugh, because its such a strange full body thing, she gives herself over to the experience so completely. It is such a joy to see someone else enjoying life. It is infectious and I can't help but crack into hysterics along with her.

I look at my son, who both relieves and creates stress. He relieves it because he is full of smiles and laughs, and play. He is full of wonder and life and love and I can't get enough of it. He is a source of stress, not because of the tantrums and the buttons he pushes. He is a source of stress because I know the evil in the world, and I wish he will never experience it...but he will. We all do at some point. We all know evil. There is no avoiding it. And that stresses me the hell out, because I know, even if I do everything right, I cannot protect him from the world.

So I need to avoid the news. I need to forget about Brian Williams and other talking head lies. I need to avoid the fact that police and civilians alike shoot and kill each other over the most mundane and preposterous awful things. I need to forget that women still fight for a voice, and alternative genders struggle to have even the space straight women have. I need to forget that war rages, and violence stains hands and dirt. I need to ignore the fact that we may have killed our species through some Icarus type hubris.

So please, send me your best cat videos. Send me your fuzzy bunny memes and your witty sketch and improv comedy. Recommend a good guided meditation and a fantastic quantum physics article about how small and pointless this human experience is in the vastness of space. I need a break.

The American Slave State or The Delusion of Freedom

Recently I got into a discussion with my husband over ideology. The question was, does personal ideology - or the way we think about our personal lives - impact political or public ideology - our behavior in the public sphere?

I would argue yes. Always.

This was a problem for Christian because he finds libertarian thought very attractive. And it is attractive, especially to Americans. The idea of being free, of being able to choose every aspect of life is a nice dream. But if a person believes this should govern their personal choices, it will impact their political ones.

Having freedom to choose whether to breastfeed, smoke, carry firearms, eat meat, or hunt are not personal choices. They are also political ones. Breastfeeding, for example, has long term health and psychological benefits to both the mother and child. It necessarily costs taxpayers less if mothers breastfeed. This is not just a personal choice any more because it impacts society at large.

Smoking has been linked to any number of health ailments. The potential cost to taxpayers is enormous. Again, it is no longer a personal choice, but a public and therefore political one.

Carrying firearms is not a question of being able to defend one's self, or even the pleasure of going to the range. In the face of children being shot daily or the mass shootings so regularly committed, it is a question of public safety. It necessarily becomes a public issues, and therefore, highly politicized.

Even eating meat is a political choice. By eating meat raised in large farms where animals are in close quarters and extreme amounts of waste are produced and dumped, sometimes to the detriment of the local environment, this becomes a political issue. This is not to mention the treatment of the workers, which necessarily impacts their physical and psychological health as well as their family structure.

Hunting, of course is a political issue as well. It is not just personal, especially when certain hunters pay to shoot from helicopters as herds try frantically to escape the rain of bullets. This is not a question of personal freedom, but necessarily impacts the environment, and therefore impacts future generations.

These are the same kinds of questions that come into play over the vaccine debate. It is quite clear the personal choice of a few have life and death consequences for the many...therefore the personal choice is not personal at all.

There is no such thing as as a strictly personal choice. All choices have far reaching impacts. All choices impact the communities in which we live. For this reason, extreme freedom is extremely dangerous.

It is often said that freedom is the cornerstone of American society. Freedom of expression and freedom of religion are often cited as benefits of living in the US. And they are. They are wonderful gifts that French and English philosophers inspired American leaders to codify into law. And I am grateful for that every day. However these are not personal freedoms. These are political ones. To think for one second that our freedom to be Baptist or Buddhist is a personal choice is delusional. The moralities associated with such a choice are inherently political - inherently impacting public life.

If this is true, then we cannot allow extreme freedom. We must control the amount of freedom people have, not as punishment  or in an effort to prevent people from being free, but to protect the rights of the weak and marginalized in our society. In short, we must limit the extreme freedom of the few in order to protect the freedom of all. These who benefit from such limitations are the victims of extreme freedom. These are the voices who are silenced by moneyed interests. These are the people who are shot, who get cancer, who suffer environmental degradation because some are given the extreme freedom to.

A society cannot be healthy when the rights of some necessarily hurt others. A country cannot hope to successfully continue when its foundation requires the subjugation of some to allow for the freedom of a few. This is not freedom. This is enslavement of the many by the few.

Legislating extreme freedom to, therefore, is a legitimation of the slave state. It is perpetuating the consolidation of power and freedom in the hands of a select few privileged members.

How does this happen? By those select privileged members spreading lies and spinning half truths to the masses. By letting us think we have freedom, by successfully deluding the many into believing we all have freedom to, we continue to allow our enslavement. We are, in short, handing our power over to our masters.

This is not a question of small or big government. This is not a question of assuring everyone has "personal" freedoms. This is a question of everyone getting their basic humanity respected and protected. This is a question of assuring that everyone has their basic needs met. This is a question of life and death.

So I remind you, the personal is by its nature political. I remind you, extreme freedom is no freedom at all. The rights of a few are not worth more than the rights of the many.

Total Equality: A Feminist Manifesto

Recently Obama called for the American legislature to require equal pay for equal work. There have been a lot of conversations about that.

I would argue his call is premature, not because I don't want that. I do. I absolutely completely do. I just think the problem is bigger than that.

You can't eradicate a symptom if you don't cure the disease. The disease, in this case, is sexism, and it is pandemic. The body politic is infested with this horrible, debilitating illness. And we need a cure. We can treat the symptoms, but they will keep coming back in one way or another, until we address the illness as a whole.

It is for this reason I wrote and published TOTAL EQUALITY. I don't think people realize how pervasive sexism is in America. I don't think people realize how damaging it is, how painful it is, as a woman, to be systematically disregarded over and over again (my brown skinned friends know this very well, and I empathize with that hot mess because there is a lot of overlap). I wrote this because I wanted it to be absolutely clear, in one place, easily understood, just what is required for women to be equal to men.

Obama is right. It should happen now. It has been a long time. But let's be clear - this is still a big task, especially when America won't admit there is a problem in the first place.

Open Letter to Health Insurance Executives

Dear Insurance Company Executives,

I know you have people whose job it is to figure out how to deny coverage. I know your companies have structured themselves to benefit your shareholders at the expense of customer health. I also know, if you don't change your tune, I, along with everyone else you have shafted, will work tirelessly to put you out of business in favor of single payer.

Let me offer you a bit of advice: do something different. I would gladly switch insurance companies if one was out there that was FOR customers. If there was a company that was modelled on social business - and cared for consumers' health - I would HAPPILY pay that company's premiums. I would recommend them to all my friends and family. I would write about how wonderful that company was. I would post videos everywhere on its amazing customer centered policies.

An honest, caring insurance company is what I want...if things stay as they are.

You have an opportunity here. You can change the way you do business, or you can risk death. It has already started with the regulations of the ACA. Single payer is not far behind. If you want to continue making money, abandon your antiquated ways of nickel and diming people. Pursue an ethical and responsible model of business and you might convince America that insurance companies do not have to be the scum of the Earth. You might.

I hope this letter reaches you during the holidays while you are enjoying perfect health with all your family members, courtesy of those profits squeezed from middle class America. You're welcome.

Have a blessed holiday season!

Best wishes,

Alexis Donkin

We Cannot Rest: Claiming Our Birth Right

I have been a little busy with my writing sample. Now that I am finally finished and have sent off the first doctoral application, I can take a little break before getting on with the next. Thus it is a perfect time for a post...

In my research for my paper I discovered something: the world remains stacked against women. I was astounded at how incredibly pervasive this stacking truly is. Yes it is also stacked against minority groups and the poor, but of course, you can be any combination of these and be female. Still, minorities and low socioeconomic groups are seen as marginalized. The problem with sexism is its invisibility.

Apparently having a vagina means you cannot make as much money. It means you are less likely to get a raise or be promoted. It means you are more likely to be attacked - verbally, physically, and sexually. It means you are told repeatedly by society from every conceivable avenue that you are less, despite many people claiming this isn't so (even as their actions say otherwise).

The day when "cunt" and "dick" have the same connotation - when a man is not seen as "feminine" when he chooses stay home because his female partner prefers to work - is not yet here. The day when on site day care is so common it is expected is not yet here. The day when it there are just as many women as men in positions of authority is not yet here. The day when imprisoned mothers are given the possibility of being mothers to their children is not yet here. The day when we don't have to be afraid for our daughters' safety is not yet here. The day when women control their reproductive lives is not yet here.

Until that day arrives, we cannot rest.

We must stand up. We must join hands with those of like vision - those seeking justice - giving voice to the voiceless. We must call on the power that only women wield and stand with our friends, neighbors, and family who see a better way.

We cannot rest. This is FAR from over. Our birth right awaits. The call goes out. Will you answer?

Mastermind Groups, Mentors, and Grunts - Oh My!

Recently I've begun listening to binaural beats, relaxation tracks, and subliminal affirmations.

I know. Hooby dooby shit. But stick with me on this.

As I wrote earlier this year, life has been generally sucky. In fact, it's been so sucky, I decided (with the prompting one can only get from a meditative state) to write about this experience and the lessons I've learned from it.

That, however, is a different story.

The other more interesting and helpful prompt I received was about a mastermind group. Actually, I was thinking about ways to help my husband out of his funk and in the end, I came to realize it was a route for both of us.

 

 What is a Mastermind Group?

A mastermind group is a small group (maybe 6 at the max, but generally 3-4 people) of peers committed to helping one another achieve each other's goals. This is primarily self-work in the career area, but it doesn't have to stay there. If the group decided to take a session to brainstorm about ways to get their dream houses, I'm sure that would work just fine. It is really a tool for the group, so whatever the group decides, that's how it will work.

Ideally each group member brings different things to the table within a given area. You might even be a member of several different groups that focus on different areas. In my ideal world, I'd probably have a mommy-blogger group and an indie genre writing group (and by ideal world, I mean by the end of August...hint hint!).

But this mastermind group is only one transformative tool - granted an awesome one - but still only one. I feel that both my husband and I need a little more...

 O Mentor, Where Art Thou?

In comes the idea of mentor. Now I've wanted mentors - explicitly - for some time. I just had no clue how to go about courting someone who would spend the time on someone like me (I imagine this is a common problem for people.). Of course, my little meditation prompt led me to the perfect website that had the exact information I needed to read.

Just ask.

I mean, don't ask something like (insert Mr. Rogers' theme), "Won't-you-be-my-mentor?" but instead ask specific questions to people who you admire and think would have helpful answers. These are the kinds of people you want around you anyway - helpful people. Accessible helpful people who actually look at their Twitter mentions or their Facebook pages AND make seven figures annually are kind of amazing and perfect to answer your questions.

Yes, you can wade through thousands of websites and forums trying to find the information you seek, but wouldn't it be nicer just to go straight to the source? The idea of that kind of tedious research gives me a headache. Hell, just searching for people to ask questions of gave me a headache.

The Right Steps

Now that I have a plan of action, I have to put it into action. To be honest, just figuring this out today was a huge step in the right direction. Researching people was tiring, but again, a huge step in the right direction. And now? I need a break.

Even God rested. I'm just saying.

So what will I do the rest of today? Obviously I'm going to listen to my meditative tracks because clearly they're making a huge difference for me. I'm also going to write at least 1000 words because I really need to for my sanity. And then I'm going to listen to Jackson Browne because I'm supposed to be performing in a few weeks at a tribute night to the guy and he might show up (he does live around here).

Phew. I need to get realistic here; there's actually no rest for the wicked...

Throw That Book: Celebrate Freedom

Freedom. Glorious freedom.
Liberation.
Independence.

Tis a gift to be free. Yes...or is it?

I'm not talking about the holiday coming up. I'm talking about the liberation of books.

FREE OUR BOOKS! BOOK LIBERATION!

A tweep of mine recently had her books show up on a piracy site and as many would be, was upset by this.

The first thing I thought?

I wish one of my books had enough attention to be on a pirate site.

Yes, I would probably lose some money on that book...but...I might gain some fans.

There is a tension between possession of a creative product and accessibility. I think of Louis C.K. who put up a special, DRM free, and had a tip jar situation. He made a bunch of money even though he didn't require payment. Was it a question of demographics? Celebrity? Product itself? Or was it simply the fact that he ventured to trust people enough with his craft they were so moved to support him despite its free price tag?

I have in the past made books free as well as had give aways. I have also given free chapters and of course, my ZEPHYRS short story has always been free. I don't have a tip jar, though I wouldn't mind listing a book on NOISETRADE (can I please?). All my books on Smashwords are DRM free. I did that because I want to trust people and encourage them to support art because it is good, brings them joy, and they want more of it.

On the one hand, if I was on a pirate site, I can see getting mad. On the other, would I be doing my job if my books weren't free somewhere...somehow? Probably not.

So while I don't require payment, I do expect some kind of compensation. PR will do nicely. Money would be good too. :-)

Bootstrappers, A La Carts, and Whole Hogs

I hate the word "independent" because I feel like it's false advertising. Writers should come with labels just like vegetarians:

I'm a pesca-ova-lactarian.
I eat cheese, and chicken, but no beef.
I'm a cheese and veggie kind of girl.
No, I don't even eat honey.

Now, to be honest, I think anyone who eats any kind of animal flesh cannot call themselves vegetarian. When it comes to animal products, I think there are really three categories of food consumers: vegans (purists), vegetarians (digestively challenged?), and everyone else (see-foodists).

That's kind of how I feel about writing, but maybe there's a few additional categories.

There's the traditional writers (whole hogs), or those who went with publishers (big 6 or otherwise). Then there are the hybrid writers, which are kind of like those pesca-ova-lacta-poultry-bullshit vegetarians - trying to reap the rewards of both labels (many of them doing an excellent job, it should be noted!).

Then of course, there are the a la carts. These are people who pay someone else to do various writing services. Now, I'm not saying it isn't a good idea to involve other people, or that we don't need help...but...call a spade a spade. A. LA. CART.

And finally, there's the bootstrappers. The purists. The people who are so committed to the idea of indie, it's embarrassing. I have pictures of these people in my head - you know, that crazy straight-edge punk in your freshman dorm who wrote "straight-edge" in his own blood and then listened to the Misfits all day? Yeah. Those people. Totally bonkers. I mean, why - why - would anyone in their right mind choose to go completely DIY?!

Ahem.

*waves frantically with both hands while jumping up and down and grinning maniacally*

HIIiiiiii! That'd be me.

I'm a bootstrapper. I hate when someone who is only sort of independent claims this word. It's my word. It belongs to people like me. I'm the epitome of independent. I do everything myself. I'm responsible for my complete success or failure. I'm responsible for the flowery words, the typos, the turns of phrase, and the paragraph going off on someone's delicious sandwich (food centered today apparently). Me. Only me. I'm the American myth - the American legend. I am the American dream. I'm completely, beautifully, gloriously independent. Those other guys are posers! Pretenders! They say you need to have an editor. You need to go to conferences. You need to have a cover designer. But that's bullshit. I don't need these things. I can do it myself.

Be precise with your language people! I mean, we're frickin' writers here!

I imagine this is what being vegan must feel like.

Sort of.

Except, the thing is, help is nice. I don't actually begrudge people for paying for services. I just hate feeling like everyone has a sugardaddy footing their service bill. I mean, those conference tickets are expensive. Hundreds of dollars could pay my monthly loan payment (one of them anyway). As my starving artist indie self, I really can't purchase entry to a writer's conference. I can't justify spending hundreds of dollars on editing services when I need to buy clothes for my baby and tools so my husband can do his job.

I'm not in the same league as these other "indie" authors. We're not in the same league because we have different levels of support. Living on one income, while being a stay at home mom, and writing...it's not easy. Granted, I was forced to develop a bunch of skills. I was forced to research things on my own. I was forced to do things that if I'd been in a comfy big 6 situation, I would never have done. You know, like figuring out how to make beet burgers, kale chips, or baking with agave nectar.

There's a reason why bootstrappers are so tough. It might take us a while to get where we're aiming, but we'll get there. We stumble and we trip, and we take detours. But we do our own course correction. We figure it out on our own. I mean seriously, how much more American can you get.

Repeal Obamacare?! Republican Candidates Must Be Daft

If I see one more ad for Republican running for congress I may shoot myself. The thing I hate the most? "I'm on the side of the taxpayers. I'm going to repeal Obamacare."

Yeah. On the side of which taxpayers exactly?

Sorry but Obamacare is a good thing for most people. All the problems are basically because Republicans stymied the idea of a single payer system (all the complications would be erased if there was a single payer system).

Obamacare saved our health care (too bad it doesn't include adult dental! Hint hint!). We were paying 1500$ a month for Cobra after Christian lost his job. Read: we had NO consistent income. Unemployment (which has been cut by the Feds - so thanks for that!) didn't pay for it ...and while our baby may have been eligible for Medi-Cal, Christian wouldn't have been. Now we have health care for a fraction of the cost (Off the top of my head I want to say we pay around $100 monthly for the two of us!) and our baby is fully covered under Medi-Cal.
We're just one example, but there are thousands and millions of people like us who can and do benefit from this legislation.

But...if the Republicans DO repeal Obamacare...they could kill their party and we may end up with single payer after all. Considering how completely horrid they've become (thank you Kochs!), I can't say I would mourn the loss.

Poor? Then You're Bad

If you are poor, you are bad. Why else would the American society, government, and economy be set up to penalize the poor? Let's explore all the ways the poor are punished, and how this punishment keeps people impoverished, and even works to further impoverish those on the bottom.

Firstly, in a capitalist society where money is king, poverty is connected with low status. Necessarily, someone who is poor not only has little power, as capital is a type of power - a way of changing one's environment or situation - but a poor person has low status because they are labeled as a loser in the game of capitalism.

Along with "loser" label comes the associated visible distinctions. Someone with high net worth has a certain appearance - they have nice things, they have good health (because up until this point health was something someone had to buy), they have good education, good connections, and the list goes on. These things are visible to even the most casual observer in how clothes fit, their condition, to even the vocabulary and cadence of a person's voice.

This highlights the problem of quality of life. Because a poor person doesn't have the capital to take care of such needs, like preventative health care, a good portion of their income ends up being spent on emergency situations. For example, I can't afford to pay a dentist for a regular check-up so I wait until my teeth hurt and instead of getting a cavity filled, I now require a root-canal. The cavity would have cost less, but because there wasn't spare income to cover regular check-ups, the care was put off. The result is a more significant intervention that costs more time and money - two things a poor person doesn't have to spare.

Time is invaluable to a poor person. The reason is a poor person likely has to work longer hours for lower compensation. The result is someone making minimum wage at two or three jobs, and often times this still isn't enough to cover basic living costs.

The irony of this, is government programs require a person to have no assets in order to qualify for pitiful subsidies (think: $44 a week to cover food costs). So having a job that pays more than minimum wage, an IRA, or even a car can hurt the poor more when applying for food stamps (and traditionally federal medical coverage). Also, keep in mind that good food tends to cost more money. So in order to be really healthy, as a poor person, you'd have to either make more money at your job, or try to find a food pantry that gives out fresh produce.

Now that we've covered the problems with social stigma, healthcare, and government assistance, what happens to people who'd like to better themselves? That's the American dream - the myth that keeps everyone working hard; if you work hard enough, you can better yourself.

But if you're poor, that's pretty unlikely. The reason is a poor person needs resources in order to get out of poverty - resources he doesn't have.

Let's say this person has some debt because he fell on hard times (an emergency situation like an ER visit or car problems caused him to spend some credit). Debt is built to penalize the debtor. This is because the debtors ends up paying much more than the initial money credited him. This is made even worse when he can't pay.

Take a step back and think about this for a second; the debtor can't pay, so his account goes delinquent, and then we charge him more fees that he can't pay, so we charge him more fees... until his credit is shot and he has no way of digging himself out of this indebted hole.

I don't know about you, but this makes NO sense to me at all. It's one thing if a person is refusing to pay but when they simply can't afford to pay? That's crazy. And this poor credit impacts other aspects of this person's life - his ability to rent (because of course he can't buy a house, and even if he could, he probably couldn't get a loan at a good rate), to buy a car, and even to get certain jobs...

Now let's say our poor person wants to change their fate - they want a better job. But how can he get a better job?

First, he needs a computer, printer, and a phone. He needs the computer to research potential jobs. He needs to printer to print off application forms and resumes. He needs a phone so he can call employers and employers can reach him regarding interviews.

These three things are crucial, yet many are simply out of the realm of possibility for a poor person. Even one of the $99 Chromebooks is an extravagance when you're worried how you're going to buy food or pay the electric bill. And let's not even get into all the little fees and costs involved in having a smartphone, which might substitute for a computer in a pinch...

Let's say this poor person somehow, miraculously, is able to land an interview. What are they going to wear? If he's lucky, he'll find something at the thrift shop that is in reasonable condition and is actually his size. He might not be able to wash it beforehand (laundromats are more expensive to use than having your own washing machine in the long run).

Maybe our man gets the job. What is he going to wear to work? He can't wear the same outfit everyday. Is he going to find 5 suits that fit him and are in good condition at the thrift shop? It's unlikely, but it isn't impossible. But again, he needs to make the time to search for these things....time he may or may not have. He'll need to be at the store when it's open...which might or might not happen, especially if he's reliant on public transit which frequently takes twice as long as a car in most places (and his credit was so bad, he probably doesn't have a car).

In every aspect of the poor man's life, he is penalized. He has to work longer hours for less pay because he doesn't have as good of an education. He doesn't have time with his family because he has to work so long. He doesn't have as good of clothing so he looks like a lower status person to society. He can't afford to cover preventative care, which means he waits until things are emergencies and this usually results in a worse situation for his health as well as his wallet. He is charged fees when he can't afford to pay his bills which puts him into an even worse situation. This screws up his credit so he has difficulty renting an apartment or getting a loan (which makes it hard to start a business as well!). He can't get a good job because he doesn't have the communications equipment to find and apply for one, let alone the wardrobe he would need to hold it down.

All this happens when you are poor in America. Because of this, the logical conclusion is that poor people are bad and have little to no value. Why else would everything in society be set up to punish you?

40 Things I'll do When I'm a Billionaire...

Or rich and famous or whatever... everyone has a list of things they'd do or be. I'm feeling wistful so I decided to share some of the things I'd do if I was stupidly rich.

1. Buy a boat - specifically a kayak. I frickin LOVE kayaks. Maybe two. I could go paddling with friends. That would be awesome.
2. Pay off my debts - I don't know why this is second, but I guess I just like fun a little more. Still, this is something I'd like to get done.
3. Buy some land, maybe a few plots in different locations. I REALLY want to build/design at least one house. I think it would be a marvellous adventure, and you can't beat the personalization.
4. Establish a school and after school program. I show my academic stripes here, but honestly I've fantasized about this since I was in elementary school. I'd like to have something special, for kids who have something to them, whatever that might be (regardless of their economic status).
5. Invest some money, you know, with the kind of plan that would make the Johnson family look like amateurs (Think 10 generations of wealth as opposed to 5! Beat that with your soap empire!).
6. And what would I do with that investment money? Take care of my parents for one.
7. And probably my in-laws as well.
8. And of course set something up for my son - a trust of some sort that could only become accessible after he had genuinely tried to make his way in the world. Not a drop would be his until he'd done something with himself (the same with any other children should we have them).
9. I'll hire a publicist who was more than worth her salt.
10. I'll take dance lessons. A lot of them. Salsa. Ballroom. West African. Belly dancing. Hula. Swing. Hip-hop. I absolutely LOVE dancing.
11. I'd get Lasik (well, I'd like to get Lasik anyway.).
12. And with my new eyes I'd take up archery. There's nothing like shooting a sharp-ended stick at a target using a piece of tight string!
13. I'll get regular massages, waxes, manicures, and pedicures. I believe in pampering.
14. Go to writing conferences.
15. Travel to all the places I really want to see, namely China, Ireland, Italy, Southern India, the Yucatan (assuming there's nothing violent happening there), Greece, Alaska, Hawaii, France, Germany, Japan, South Korea, Macao, Brazil, Egypt (again with the nothing violent business), and New Zealand (There's more places I'm sure, but I think that's a pretty good start.).
16. Buy a few pieces of commercial property.
17. I'll set up a foundation.
18. Of course I'd start a few businesses.
19. And I'd have to pursue all those crazy ideas I'm always having. I might even have to start a think tank just to research the viability of such ideas.
20. I'd have to hire some personal staff, including but not limited to an assistant, accountant/financial advisor, and a lawyer. It's always good to have a few extra sets of hands to deal with the mess money makes.
21. I will STILL be grateful for the wonderful things I have in my life, like my son, my husband, and my cat.
22. Oh, and I will try to actually learn a couple languages (more than just the few choice phrases I've acquired throughout my education).
23. I might buy a vineyard because that sounds fun!
24. I will host nice gatherings where people who are genuine can mingle with other genuine people.
25. Buy a space for an art and music studio.
26. Go to plays.
27. See awesome music shows.
28. See dance troupes.
29. Buy a really comfortable mattress.
30. I'll have a few more kids.
31. I might buy a horse.
32. I'll find a designer who can handle curves to design my wardrobe.
33. Someone else will cut and style my hair.
34. Take several cooking classes to get a good handle on Asian dishes and bread/pastry making.
35. I would start a non-profit consulting company that would help non-profits become more efficient/make the most of their resources.
36. I might go to the dermatologist.
37. I'll visit amusement parks.
38. Volunteer at schools and/or local charities.
39. Start a magazine or a newspaper/site.
40. Most importantly, no matter what I did, I would always live life to the fullest.

There are other things I could dream up that hinge on obscene wealth (or even just moderate wealth), but the thing about this list is that it still comes from a particular place. Yes there is stuff on this list, but there are experiences as well. There is giving. I hope that should I come into money at some point, this approach to life won't change. Then again, a stack of money probably isn't enough to undo years and years of socialization in compassion and adventurousness. At least I hope not!

What would you do with a bagillion dollars? Leave a comment below!

Who Caused Haiyan?

This post is written from Khloe's perspective about a current event that is a little too close to the premise of her saga. It's ironic I thought of this type of terror years before Sandy and Haiyan...

I was watching the news. I read it on my smartphone while waiting for Dani. I knew they had plans to destroy humans but I never thought it would get this bad. I saw Sandy and while my father caught those immediately responsible, it doesn't prevent things like Haiyan from occurring. We have to catch the ones pulling the strings if we want to avoid record wind speeds and death tolls.

Laran has ideas. Like him, I think those responsible are the same ones who killed his parents - the same ones who attacked me, and recruited Macha. And it's only going to get worse. If, as I suspect, there are Seelie and Sidhe colluding against reunification, there's only one solution.

You have to stop. You have to stop thinking everything can be thrown away. You have to stop using things that will only destroy land, water, and air. Stop now! Forget plastic. Forget industrial agriculture. Forget gasoline and constant electronic use. Forget GMOs. Forget fracking and mountaintop removal mining. Forget oil. Forget pesticides. Forget using anything that takes longer than five minutes of travel. Forget cities and computers. Forget clear-cutting and dams.

This time, this obscene industrialization and super technological age, is over. This is your last chance. If you continue, you risk your race's complete annihilation. I'm going to do what I can, but there are no guarantees. You have to do your part. If you don't take responsibility for your actions, for the destruction you've wrought, there's nothing I can do.

In the end,  it's your choice. You decide.

When You Lose It All

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you already know I asked for positive thoughts and prayers in the last day or so. If you've been keeping up with my various blogs, you know we've had a few hurdles this summer, except none of them was as big as the one that appeared this morning.

Christian lost his job.

I'm taking a deep breath now, so I can let that sink in again. It doesn't seem completely real. If I stop to think about it, I begin wondering about the logistics we face in the next month.

There are the bills we have to pay. There is the food we need in order to live. There is the fact that rent in the Bay is exorbitant and now, even with our loans on forbearance we don't have the income to support the measly loft where we currently reside. There's the fact that we have a baby on the way and I'm not sure what our insurance situation is going to look like, or if we will have to move out of the area and look for a new care provider in the last few weeks of my pregnancy. Oh, did I mention we don't have any baby gear AT ALL right now? There is no car seat, no diapers (cloth or otherwise), and no place for kiddo to sleep.

We are, more than ever before, at a crossroads. We have nothing. There is no emergency fund. There is no job waiting in the wings. We have fallen as low as we've ever fallen and there is no net (Thanks America for not believing social democracy is a thing worth pursuing! You've made this possible!).

We have three main things we can do (and I'm not even sure if they're doable):

1. Christian can file for unemployment.
2. Christian can apply for jobs.
3.  We can try to start our own business.

These could all happen at the same time. They're not mutually exclusive, and frankly, I think they're all worth pursuing at this point. As such, my writing and publishing goals are going to be put on hold while I help Christian get things going. Being able to eat, having a place to sleep, and taking care of the baby are my top priorities. I don't think I'll completely stop working on book stuff, but I doubt that I'll be able to be nearly as aggressive as I wanted to be. If I can get 3 or 4 books published this summer, considering the craziness surrounding our living situation, I'll be amazed and incredibly proud of myself.

Granted, if I still pulled off publishing 7 books I would call that something near miraculous.

Whatever the case, print versions of the books are going to be put on hold until I have money to spend on purchasing proofs (you have to order a proof of each book to check for errors, formatting etc). The cost of the proofs varies depending on the type of book (binding and size), as well as the number of pages, and whether it is in color or black and white. I'm disappointed by this, but I don't have a choice at the moment.

I can't submit stories to magazines with reading fees.

The reality of my present situation is starting to set in, especially as how this will impact my personal goals.

And it hurts.

Even though I know practically what will happen on Monday (we'll put our loans on forbearance or deferment, start the unemployment papers, apply for jobs, and begin developing a business plan) I don't know what will happen to us after that. So much hangs in the balance. This is such a big change and it is incredibly scary and painful. I have to believe there is a reason for all this. I have to believe this was a way to clear the slate, to allow for something bigger and better. After all, I have been feeling like this year was going to be a big year. Maybe this had to happen to allow for the really good stuff to come into our lives. I hope so. I don't know that I'll be able to handle a lower fall.

An Open Letter Reminding Congress & Senate of Their Responsibility

Madison may have been right. People might be too stupid to be entrusted with the ability to choose. Maybe we didn't have any good choices. I don't know. I think it's gotten to the point now where I see an article daily about how the legislative branch is proposing or voting on some bill that makes me want to bang my head against the wall.

So, in the spirit of correcting undesirable behavior (wow, I already sound like I'm an attachment parenting pro!), I have decided to write a little letter reminding our dear representatives of their responsibilities:


Dear Congress/Senate,

I am married, 30 years old, employed part-time, and pregnant with my first child. I have good health care benefits through my husband's job and a mountain of educational debt courtesy of two degrees in higher learning. I am a Christian and a patriot. It is because of who I am and what I've experienced that I am writing you about several concerns. Based on your actions in recent years, I feel you have as an institution and individuals forgotten your vow and commitment to the population you represent.

Firstly, your vow is not to get re-elected. Your entire purpose is to represent the needs and interests of your community. You represent us. Rather than spouting pretty words and taking pictures with babies or paying lip service to issues you have no intention of championing, work on getting something done that will make this country and the world a better place. That means sometimes doing things that people don't like, even if it is the right thing. When in doubt, do the right thing, not the thing that will get you another 6 years in office.

While it is true that your constituents voted you in office based on your perspective, I would urge you to recognize the fact that we work in a two party system and there are very few real choices for us. In short, remember: you may be the lesser of two evils, not the beloved darling of your district or state you imagine.

Your stances on issues may not *truly* represent the people of your state or district. Your constituents may agree with you on say what to do about taxes, but they may fundamentally disagree with you on your creationist perspective of evolution. For the purposes of representing your community, you should assume you have no opinions until you know, without a doubt, what the needs and interests of your community *really* are.

This means rather than focusing on party lines, which are limited and often do not represent the needs and views of real people, please consult with your constituents and see what will actually benefit them. If you represent a community which consists of a number of elderly, social security and health care should be your priority, not airplane travel. If you represent a younger community, you will want to support more funding for education or labors' rights, rather than voting to increase spending on military research and development.

In addition to keeping close to your constituents, let me remind you that corporations and businesses are NOT constituents. While they may fund campaigns and give all manner of gifts, make no mistake - they are not voters. They do not have voter interests at heart, and often want the opposite of what voters need.  Helping corporate interests does not guarantee job creation, in fact, many times it does the opposite (I think of tax loop-holes and laws that allow corporations to ship jobs overseas as opposed to paying their due and employing hard-working Americans).

Another thing to do is brush up on our amendments. I'm not sure if all of you realize that we are guaranteed things like freedom of speech and that church and state should be separate. The reason I don't know if you are aware of these things is the regular actions and propositions made in the name of "security" and "God."

This is one of the most diverse countries in the world. Our diversity is a strength and a weakness. We have every opinion, ethnicity, belief, creed, and orientation under the sun. This gives us incredible resources when creating ideas, but it also means we have to work incredibly hard to protect minority groups from being steam-rolled. It is easy to say, for example, this is primarily a Christian nation. That said, even in Christianity the nature of God is disputed. Though I am Christian and Baptist, I would disagree strongly with many of my Baptist brothers and sisters about how God acts in the world. I do not want their version of God dictating how I can live or what I can teach my children.

Still, even in the most diverse populations, we can agree on many things. We agree that our people should have safe places to sleep, food to eat, and care when they are sick. We want education and fulfilling work for our neighbors, family, and friends. We want green spaces and natural resources for our children and grandchildren to enjoy. We want freedom to be who we are, in a safe, healthy, and sustainable community that honors our contributions and those of others. These are things we can agree on. These are the things you, as representatives, can work to protect and ensure.

Moving forward, remember these things. Remember who is important - not you. You are not important. You are a tool - a vessel. You are *our* tool. We can wield, hone, or break you. When you act, you act for us - as an extension of us. We are important - your constituents are important. The long-term health of our country is important, and our country is us.

I am one of many, and I hope my words fall on your open and listening ears.

Sincerely,

Alexis Donkin

Budget Beauty for A Pregnant Nose

The increased sense of smell can play havoc on your life if you're pregnant. Suddenly scents you once loved are vomit-inducing. Your lotion, shampoo, and facial soaps can become your worst enemies. So what do you do? You have to replace them with a more subtle or fragrance free alternative. I had to figure this out by trial and error. That doesn't mean you have to.

First, it should be noted that companies like Burt's Bees, Avalon, and Alba have fragrance free options.  However, if you check out these product lines, you'll notice immediately that you're paying PREMIUM prices.

I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend $11.00 on a 4 oz bottle of shampoo.

So what is a preggo lady to do? Well, you can benefit from my trial and error.

First, let's examine the options for haircare. I will admit my chief concern with haircare was shampoo and conditioner. This is because when you're in the shower the steam helps to enhance the smell of whatever products you're using. Suddenly "Head and Shoulders" was "Head To the Toilet." Christian, good man that he is, smelled an obscene amount of shampoos. The best he found was Prell. Yes, Prell! It has a lilac scent. It's simple. It's dirt cheap. It works. Prell also has a conditioner, making it a completely inoffensive scent haircare combo for those on a budget.

A second option? Suave. All Suave choices are not created equal. I like the Moroccan knock-off in the gold bottle. It smells like a lightly floral chocolate. It doesn't overwhelm or overpower, and like Prell, has a corresponding conditioner.

What about body wash or soap? I'll be frank. Most body washes are down right putrid when you're pregnant. I couldn't handle the thought of wading through the gagging scents as I tried to find a budget option. Instead, I pulled out a hand-milled bar of soap I'd gotten from a living museum. Obviously you don't need to get basic soap from a living museum, but this should help direct you to some real life budget options. I recommend checking out good-ole Ivory. If you want to be a little more swank, go for my typical favorite corp bar soap - Dove (which also comes in sensitive). These soaps barely register on the preggo sniffer which makes them IDEAL. They're also incredibly budget friendly and can be found EVERYWHERE.

When it comes to your face, it's better to be a little more discerning. I *did* wade through some scents on this one because face wash is something that actually comes in contact with my nose. I didn't just want to tolerate whatever smell of product I was using. I wanted to love it. Welcome Purpose face wash! This is a Johnson and Johnson product that while being cited as great, is under appreciated. This stuff smells light and clean, but doesn't come even close to overpowering. I ENJOY using it. Like most face washes, it is a little pricier than other products (about twice as much as that bottle of Suave shampoo you just picked up)

I might have picked up the lotion attached to my face wash if they had a night version available at the store where I was, but they didn't. So I looked around and actually bit the bullet for Burt's Bees sensitive night cream. Yes, it is pricey, but it IS low on the fragrance scale (though I have to say I don't like the cotton smell as much as I like Purpose's clean scent) and it works for delicate preggo lady skin.

I did NOT check out alternative toners or day lotion. This is because I have used witch hazel forever with great success. There was a *short* period where the witch hazel scent was...ahem...difficult, but I got over it quickly. The price and it's effectiveness was enough to keep me loyal despite the temporary preggo sniffer setback.

As to my day lotion, I get the Target knock-off of Aveeno's lotion. It's cheaper but has the same ingredients and I love the light summer sunblock scent. It always makes me happy!

And how do I keep the rest of my skin moisturized? I like the shea and cocoa butter based lotions. There are plenty of them out there with all variety of scents. The one most often suggested for preggo ladies trying to prevent stretch-marks is Palmer's. I have used it in the past and liked it well enough, however as summer hits, I'm not sure how much of the thick goop I'm going to want on my skin. We'll have to experiment.

One thing every preggo lady MUST HAVE in her skin regime is sun-block. I absolutely LOVE the sprays. I can't get enough of them. I used them before I was preggo, and I use them daily now. While I have a knock-off Target version, the other name brands are close enough in price that even the brand slave won't feel too put out by shelling out a few extra bucks for the label. The knock-off doesn't have a strong smell but I do recommend applying any spray in a well ventilated area. I haven't had any problems with them since being pregnant.

So there you have it. Every thing in low or no fragrance on a budget - perfect for the discerning mommy-to-be who wants to save a buck (probably to spend later on that Diono Radian Rxt Car Seat in Shadow). Enjoy your scent liberation! 

Looking For Opportunity in a Forced Stay-at-home-mom Hand

The Real Face of Stay-At-Home Mothers: Those Who Have No Other Financial Option - Forbes

I found this article because being this side of 20 weeks makes the issues of financial stability that much more pressing - that much more frightening.

Today when I got home from work, Christian was looking at other apartments. We don't want to move yet, because I'm so close to my job now (let alone the birth center), but come July when my contract's up we may have to.

We're also looking at the retirement accounts that we've acquired which have been losing money for years. When you're not making enough interest to cover inflation, it doesn't make sense to continue doing what you've always done. Does draining those accounts scare me? Yes. Absolutely. Am I more concerned about paying less interest on our student loans and being able to pay for essential baby gear? Yes. Absolutely.

And like the women the Forbes article cites, I find myself in a situation that is less of a choice and more forced at this point in our lives.

Unlike the supposed new face of SAHMs, I'm not foreign-born. I am younger, but certainly not the youngest mother-to-be on the block. The economy may be coming back, but I happen to live in a place where many of my skills are redundant. The Bay Area is flooded with young, highly educated people - many with less experience who are willing to work for less money. 

Who needs someone who studied interfaith dialogue? Politics? Art? Who worked in education without a teacher's certification? Who doesn't have a doctorate? Who has no interest in being a corporate stooge?

When I was looking for full time work, there wasn't any. Even the jobs that were in line with my professional experience weren't interested in me for whatever reason. I guess I didn't know enough people in the area or whatever. Regardless, I decided to give up on full time work to pursue something else - the result of which is partially this blog (the other half being my books which you should buy and read - of course!).

Now I find myself in a position where my hand is forced. I DO want to stay at home, actually. I want to have time with my kiddo. I want to see every first. But I also don't want to become lonely, depressed, or crazy (or any combo thereof). And unfortunately, that is a real possibility.

I grew up having everything I wanted. My family went on regular vacations. I didn't have 20 sets of lessons, but I spent my time in self-directed exploration with kits, tools, and crafts my parents gave me. I had my own room.

As of right now, I can't give those things to my child and it pains me. It pains me that I feel like they will have a worse life than I did.

I know other couples have started with less and ended up doing remarkable things. My parents went from a parsonage with piddily salaries in Philly to living in their own condo in Santa Barbara wine country. Christian's parents worked hard and went from renting a tiny place outside of Camarillo to owning a sizeable house in Santa Barbara. Neither was (or even is) easy. Still they did it. It's not impossible, or at least it didn't use to be. But I don't want to get ahead of myself on the cynic train...

So I remind myself that life leads us in directions we cannot anticipate. I remind myself that J.K. Rowling wrote some of her books on bits of napkins when she was a struggling single mother. Other writers have dealt with scores of rejections and gone on to do great things and have best sellers (even with some of the books that were originally rejected time and time again). Other women have made SAH work for them even with only one income that was lower than the national median.

I can do it. I know. I can be strong. I just don't want to have to be. I feel like we've been doing this our whole marriage and I want a solid break. I want my time of blatant abundance to arrive already. I want zero debt, healthy investments, and a fat savings account. I want vacations to places I've never seen that involve visiting museums or taking lessons that cost more than free because I can afford it.

I want more than I grew up with.

I think this is a more common occurance than many would like to admit. Perhaps we were brainwashed so well we thought we could have a loving marriage, a nice house, well adjusted kids, AND healthy finances. Maybe the truth is we can't have all those things. Maybe we have to let go - be more zen and less attached to these ideas of what happiness and security mean. If I can open myself up to possibilities and begin to dream of ways life can be more wonderful, perhaps I can see opportunities for greatness staring me in the face.

That is my personal goal - to dream of ways life can be more wonderful every day and to be open to possibility. Life can surprise us. We must remember. Every moment ends as another begins.

So yes, I am staying at home under uncomfortable circumstances at first. But I know this is a big year. I know this isn't a grim situation, but an a opportunity. I just don't know exactly what opportunity it is. I'm keeping my eyes and heart open.