For everyone who needs a bit of hope

So I haven't been blogging because I'm pregnant and my brain is made of jello. However, I still have a lot of THOUGHTS, the difficulty is in corralling them, like wayward cattle, into anything resembling order.
Pregnancy is a weird mental state because I have a lot of FEELINGS which leads to ideas, and ultimately new insights I want to expound on, but then when it gets to the actual point where I can write some exposition on the subject, all my focus dribbles away.

That said, I have so many idea's about things to write more on. Depression Awareness, Writing, more book reviews. (My TBR stack of books is going to crush me in my sleep I swear.)

Despite my scattered disorganization, I did want to take the times to write a post today. The somewhat surreal thing about blogging, especially anyone who's blogged for years, is that you put so much of yourself into your posts. Whether it's actual life experience, and personal accounts, or simply the way a blogger tries to share their own perspective in a way that people can relate to, ultimately a huge amount of Who You Are winds up spilling onto the page, hiding in your words and the things unsaid.

This is a great thing for a reader, because it makes them connect to your writing and care about it beyond the mere words on the page. The see the author as a person who exists, and not just some mindless vessel spewing out information. The surreal part happens when someone who is reading your words, and feeling their own connection to them, feels that same vicarious connection to the author. Most of the time this is great, it can lead to meeting people and realizing your words have an effect. Sometimes it's just a little bit strange, when you don't realize how much of your own insecurities and issues might be laid bare for another to see.

I'm a very passionate reader, and I have a brain that likes to latch onto small details and save them for later. I'm also not a very social person, which is why I'm often afraid that when I do communicate with the people I've read that I'll come of just a few hairs shy of batshit crazy. I'm the kind of person who remembers that a persons favorite color is yellow, because they mentioned it in a blog post... four years ago... and then I show up, a perfect stranger to this person, and thrust a bunch of their favorite flowers at them tied with a yellow bow while babbling about how amazing they are and how I've memorized all the things they love... Yeeeah. I don't TRY to be creepy, in fact I make a special effort NOT to be, but unintentionally remembering all this stuff can be a little weird.

But I'm veering from my original intent. Basically, what I'm trying to convey is that there are a host of authors whom I've only conversed with casually, if at all, who I care about. I feel like we have things in common, and I find myself hoping that they are well, and that whatever problems they've mentioned via blog or twitter are something they get through.
Thoughts you have about your friends.

You don't ever really know how far or how deeply words online, on a page, can reach people. You don't know if one post you make about overcoming trials makes a big difference to someone, or if it just sits on the page read but unnoticed. You don't know if merely by the act of expressing your feelings to the wide internet, that you might be making friends who actually care what happens to you.

I'm thinking about this a lot today because to many many people's relief and excitement, a blogger we know and love returned to post today. Allie Brosh of http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com has returned, and her incredibly honest post about dealing with her depression and the struggles she's faced is one of the best written posts on the topic I've ever read.
So much of what she's gone through, and going through, sound so familiar. So much of her fight is something I can relate to. I've always loved her work, but knowing she's fighting a similar battle has made me even more a fan of who she is, and not just her work.

While I don't know Allie personally, and I can't say we're "friends", I know I'm rooting for her. Along with a huge portion of the internet. Her art has become famous through Meme's and her posts are witty and hilarious. It's a weird paradox to know that someone who has literally millions of fans, and hundreds of thousands of people who avidly follow her work, can still feel, at the end of the day, just as alone and unhappy as anyone else.

Depression sucks. Depression is the mind killer and the liar who tells you everything you are is wrong. But depression is wrong. For Allie, for everyone else out there who is struggling, one day at a time, to regain some sense of self and worth in this world, I'm rooting for you. Hang in there. It's hard and it's crippling and it sucks, but you can make it out the other side. Life may never be sunshine and rainbows everyday, but there are always things that will make you glad that you kept going, little joys and triumphs you wouldn't trade for the world.
Don't give up.
Please hang on.
And even if I don't know you yet... I still understand.
You ARE worth it.

Mental Health: The Invisible Stigma

The Invisible Stigma

Recently I read an article, frankly it was a rather superficial piece, on mental health, published originally in a Mommy Magazine, but it got enough interest that it was republished online via CNN. The interesting thing about it, is that my first immediate reaction upon reading it the first time was outrage. I reposted the article along with a diatribe. This isn't anything new, I have some of the most interesting discussions when I get irate about something, but this time something unique happened.

Over the course of the day when different people saw the link, I got two very polarized responses. The first, irate agreement with my annoyance, the second was polite confusion trying to pinpoint what exactly had struck me so wrong. It was the second response that made me think. I reread the article, trying to pinpoint the exact phrases that set me off, and they were there, but it was a subtle game. The article never directly said anything pointed, in fact it was the very calm, nonspecific nature of the piece that made it all the more frustrating, and all the more difficult to combat.

I'll bring back a link to the article, and discuss my arguments about it at length further on, but first a little background on me, and the experiences that have affected my perception.

I was diagnosed 'depressed' at seventeen. This didn't come as a surprise to anyone, I'd known I was unhappy, and frankly sick of fighting an endless battle with my sadness, apathy, and loneliness. It was back in 02, and even though more and more people were learning about depression, aware that it existed, and the TV and magazine ads for prozac had already started making the rounds, it was still something no one really wanted to admit happened to them.

I had a lot of reasons to be depressed. In addition to the dramas of adolescence I'd been fighting a long hard battle with another invisible disease, Ulcerative Colitis, that left me dangerously underweight, exhausted, wary of everything I ate, and frequently in the hospital. The thing is, depression doesn't care if you have a reason to be depressed, reasons just make it all the more difficult to fight it. Getting diagnosed with depression was a relief, it gave my problem a name and a description of ways to combat it. Like my other disease, not knowing what was killing me was far worse than giving it a name.

The irony in my struggle is that if I told people I was depressed and taking antidepressants as a teenager, they had no argument with that. For most it was something so indefinable, that they didn't bother to question it, they just accepted it. No, the irony was in the way people reacted to my actual physical disease. I had UC. I was diagnosed by doctors through many, many tests. I went through many courses of medication. I had a doctors note requiring teachers to forgive my absences because sometimes I was in the hospital, sometimes I just couldn't get out of bed. But when I did go to school, it was such a relief to see my friends, I preferred to act like nothing was wrong. I joked with friends, goofed around, and tried to have a normal school experience.

Some people couldn't accept that. Teachers, especially, couldn't grasp the idea that I could be deeply ill, and yet joke with my friends during class. They assumed I wasn't trying hard enough to do their coursework, some seemed to assume I was outright 'faking' a disease to get attention. I was deliberately failed by one teacher, despite my A on the final exam. Another teacher refused to give me a letter grade, and only supplied a 'course completed' stamp that got me out of her class without contributing to my GPA. Passive aggressive punishment for having a legitimate disease.

I am far more bitter about the experiences I had at the hands of adults, I admit. There were other incidents with students, more petty and cruel, but I don't expect better from teenagers. Stupidity at sixteen is almost required. It was the people that should have known better. Those that should have been past such petty judgments, those are the wounds that I remember.

It was situations like this that made me all the more sensitive to meta-messages. All the things you read between the lines, all the cruelty and subtle emphasis you make clear without ever saying a word. I think many people who become depressed are more sensitive to the opinions of others. Many of these people are highly intelligent, artistically inclined, and clever enough to see through the fronts others put up.

This might make them too sensitive, maybe even paranoid at our most insecure, seeing daggers in every sigh, and judgment in every silence. But we aren't stupid, and when we say people judge us for our 'mental disorders' we aren't wrong.

I was fortunate to know, quite acutely, that I was depressed, and I needed help when I first sought it. It made it easier to accept the diagnosis, but it didn't mean it was easy to stay there. Depression is like a cancer, you can beat it back, and sometimes go for a long time free of it, but there's no guarantee that it will stay gone, and all too often it comes back. To make matters worse, it might not be just depression. It might be anxiety caused by stress factors that you can predict, or panic attacks that come on violently for no reason. You could be diagnosed depressed, but actually suffer from a manic depression where half the time your unable to sleep, sit still, or stop chasing a dream, then you crash and fall into a pit of despair and lethargy. Mental disorders are tricky to face, hard to diagnose, and even harder to treat long term without difficulty.

Yet, if given half the chance, I'm sure almost everyone you know can tell you a 'solution' to your problems. Everyone has been sad, or unhappy at some point, but not everyone has been depressed. The fact that so many people believe sadness, mourning, or normal unhappiness is equal to clinical depression is one of the hardest logical fallacies for both depressed and 'normal' people to overcome.

If I have an ugly infected boil on my toe, it takes a special kind of person to give me advice on how to cure it, let alone someone who'll want to talk about it at all. Yet if you say you're "depressed" for most people they assume it's your way of asking them to 'fix it', and they'll try. (Sometimes I wish Depression had a fancier name. I think I'll start calling mine 'Johnson's Apathy'. If I tell people I'm on medication to cure my Johnson's Apathy maybe they'll stop telling me how I can quit my pills and just take a vacation instead.)

People who have fought the battle for their mental health, especially people who are willing to talk about it openly, have all dealt with the oftimes crushing advice on how to get better. "Just try to cheer up." "Maybe you need more sunlight." "Maybe you need more vitamins." "When I'm sad I just…" "If your so stressed, you should take some time off." "You need to get out more." "You need to relax more." "Get a hobby." And the far worst one, the one that so few actually say, but we can read it loud and clear between the lines. "Maybe it's all in your head." "Just stop being that way."

Passive aggressive, condescending, sometimes well meant, but all the more painful, the advice from people who've never truly understood mental disorders all carries the same stigma, "I'm fine. So what is so wrong with you?"

People with depression aren't seen as 'sick', they're seen as weak, unmotivated, not 'really trying' to get better. The burden of the judgment can be a weight that crushes you, especially when you're already deeply convinced that you cannot escape your flaws. Someone who is depressed, but afraid to be labeled 'mentally ill', will run from that stigma. Sometimes until it kills them.

I am fortunate. I know that my depression is a physical chemical imbalance that I need medical help to manage. I know my depression is not a sin, a personal flaw, a choice or a weakness. I know that I cannot always help the sadness that swallows me whole, and that when that happens, my job is to get support, see my Doctor, and remind myself that it will get better. You know what, even though I know all that with the same certainty that I know the sun will rise… When I am depressed, it doesn't stop me from hating how I feel, hating who I become, and feeling like a burden and a failure to my family.

Knowing that depression is a disease I can fight, with proper medication, therapy, and support of friends and family is the rope I need to climb out of the pit that depression throws me into. Having the certainty that I will keep fighting, and this is not my fault is all the difference in the world sometimes.

This is why a fluff piece in amagazine offended me so much. (Specifically titled, "Xanax Makes Me a Better Mom") The article began with a 'depressed' mother who went off her medication and 'cured' her depression with moments of solitary meditation, the article ended with a 'depressed' mother who's daughter said 'she feels sad' (An early sign of depression, though in a child it's contingent on a LOT of factors, like duration, severity, frequency, before deciding it's an actual concern.) so the Mother's conclusion from her daughter's sadness was to go off her medication and try to deal with her disease (and her potentially depressed 6yo) unmedicated.

Basically looking at the structure of the article, if you begin a news piece with a statement about using alternative (to medication) methods to combat depression, then end that piece with a similar statement about getting off the pills and reconnecting with life, the position of those two pieces make them your strongest 'argument'. Thus, the article is saying "American parents are over-medicated and need to stop taking pills in order to better experience life".

This is why I found the article a bit offensive. If you also look at the statements they included in the article statistics from the CDC stating one in ten people are on antidepressants, include a therapist who thinks people just want a pill to deal with normal feelings in life, and a snippet from a psychologist who says taking pills without seeing a therapist is never going to fix the problem. Even though they couched all this language in fuzzy anecdotes about parenting and interviews with parents on medication, their implication is clear. "You don't need a pill. You just need to get over it."

The stigma is right there, wrapped in statistics, and couched in anecdotes. "They fixed their depression. Why can't you?" "You don't need medication." "People just want a pill to deal with normal sadness." The words are there, "It's just easier to take a pill." along with the implication, you are weak for needing a pill to survive your illness. You are a failure for 'not facing' your depression and getting over it. You are broken.

If someone is depressed an already hating themselves then all they see from these words is not an offer of help, or an observance of the medical possibilities for getting better, instead they just see how they can't fall into the fallacy of the over-medicated society.

The thing is, there are probably a great many people who are not clinically depressed, but have had a rough time, get on a dose of pills to get through it, and never think to stop. There are probably many people who would benefit from therapy to deal with traumas and triggers in their life that still effect them today. There are even people who are depressed, but choose to face it without medication because they feel they know what they're doing and they know the risks.

The problem isn't if people are taking too much medication, or if it's the wrong medication. The problem is that we don't bother to learn what depression is, how to help, and what to do to support those who have it. Instead we assume the media is to blame, that people are taking pills they don't need, and no one has a legitimate illness.

Doing that just takes us backward, and leaves us marginalizing mental illness, reducing it to 'an illusion' and stranding the legitimately sick people without aid, and without the understanding they desperately need. Depression is a captor, it takes your mind, it tears down your confidence, it divides you from your ability to judge rationally who you are, and if what you’re feeling is normal. If everyone who isn't depressed learns to think it's all a lie… then who will be there to help the person who can't help herself?

Every article that boosts the stigma that mental illness isn't 'really a disease' does damage to the way people perceive mental illness, and each other. My biggest fear is that too many people will believe that lie, and those of us who need help will be left to die by inches, imprisoned in our own minds.

The Myth of the "Alternative Lifestyle"

 
As a writer, I've come to know that words are very powerful things. The right words will resonate with people, bringing people to empathize with a character or to sympathize with a viewpoint. The right words make people stop, they make people listen, and they make them think.
Similarly, the wrong words at the very least will cease to make sense or resonate with readers, at their very worst they wind up angering people, exposing flaws in the speaker, and bringing people to the opposite opinion of what the speaker wanted them to see.

Which brings me to focus on the word "alternative". The dictionary posits that an alternative is a secondary choice, an additional option. The word by itself doesn't have a negative connotation, yet when we tie in the word "lifestyle" it suddenly takes on the nature of a label. A code people use, when for whatever reason they are afraid to say "gay".

The obvious fallacy in this term should be clear. Basically it furthers the "us vs them" in the debate of what relationships are real and valid. We call homosexuality an "alternative" to heterosexuality as though it was a choice these poor souls made just to make their conservative neighbors uncomfortable.

Avoiding the potential bear trap of making this about politics, I'll stick to the wording here. The other flaw in this reasoning, is it implies by its very nature that there are in fact only two ways to live, two ways to parent, a normal way, and an alternative. This is absurd.

The "nuclear" two parent model is as alternative these days as a homosexual household. We have homes with step parents, half siblings, and split custody, we have single parent households, we have family's where multiple generations live together, or children share a home with aunts, uncles, and cousins. We have families of blended race and multiple languages, families of devout religion, and families who don't express their faith.
There is no one way to build a family, and as such, there is no inverse alternative. Instead there's a plethora of options for how families live and come together, and trying to label one, just one, choice in a sea of options as "alternative" is what really shines a focus of hypocrisy on this phrasing.

Ultimately, I hate labels. They seem to be a way of oversimplifying issues and people into mere terms that can be cataloged and set aside. When I look at a family, my ideal isn't based around one man one woman, it isn't even based around the number of parents a child has. In my ideal, a family is a group of people who live together, love each other, and work hard to provide the very best they can for each other. If people are happy together, if they care for each other and provide for each other, I don't see how that is an "alternative" to family.

Writing Character: The Lies that You Believe

I've spent a lot of time reading in the past few months. I've gotten back into the Game of Thrones Series, and I re-read Agatha Christie's "And Then There Were None". Between them and watching Downton Abbey, I wound up thinking a lot about character in writing.

Building believable characters means they have to be more than just props to fuel a plot, even side characters have to be more than a two dimensional trope filling space around the hero. I'm not saying they have to be perfect, but quite the opposite, they have to be imperfect in a way that sets them apart from a casually contrived paper doll. They have to have motivations that fuel their actions, and believable reactions to their situations.

One thought that I've been focused on a lot in the past few weeks as I look at the characters I want to write, and characters others have written, is that deep down, almost everyone lies to themselves. It's a perfectly human coping mechanism.

Some lies are altruistic, "I know I can save the princess!" He cannot possibly KNOW that, and if your reading something like Game of Thrones he'll more likely die, horribly, than succeed. He's lying to himself to build confidence and faith in himself and his mission.

Other lies are more destructive, "I had to kill him! There was no other way! I'm not a cold blooded murderer!" This clearly paints a character desperate to reconcile their actions with their own guilt, or the judgment they know they'll face from another. Even the character himself doesn't really believe his words, and that insecurity and desperation can easily creep into their actions causing them to be reckless or unnecessarily judgmental.

As a reader, we have the unique perspective to look at a characters entire path, from beginning to end. Even as the character chooses not to believe a gristly truth, or they convince themselves of a more optimistic future, we as the reader can see. Sometimes the imminent danger is so obvious to us, from our view, that we can't help be shout, "Can't you see he's lying to you!" or "Don't! It's a trap!". Yet within the narrative, the character instead embraces those comfortable lies and falls headlong into peril.

A truly good book keeps you reading even if you've become furious at the character for what they've chosen. Even if you hate the character for becoming the opposite of what you hoped or expected, you may still find yourself reading, turning the page, and going even further. Ultimately we find it hard to walk away from characters that are real, characters who believe in certain truths, and believe in certain lies because we want to know how they evolve from what they are.

The worst thing you can do is create a character that is flat, boring and without depth. That character might not anger anyone with their choices, but they won't win any devotion either. Two dimensional characters are not real, so we don't care if they get thrown away. If you want anyone to care about your characters plight, they need to have a depth that is relatable. They have to think, they have to feel, they have to lie.

So what lies does your favorite character believe?

An Open Letter to Barnes and Noble: Changes to improve a struggling book business

I wrote this up, this morning after having spent several weeks thinking about it. I've talked about this with a lot of people who buy books, and most people share the same complaints.
See, the thing is, I don't like monopolies. I've never been published by Amazon, and I have heard some great things about their e-publishing services, as well as their audiobook department. Be that as it may, I worry about getting too bound to one business to sell books. I don't believe any ONE company should run the market, and I don't feel I can trust a company that seems determined to own the market and crush any competition.
That said, Barnes and Noble doesn't 'own' me either. Frankly if I'm buying an e-book I prefer to download it directly from the writer as a .pdf when available so I can avoid a host of DRM problems. I shop indie bookstores when I can. Yet because they are geographically closest to me, Barnes and Noble gets a lot of my business. (To be honest, I'd probably like Amazon a whole lot more if they had an actual STORE I could go to, where I could walk in and touch the books. I'm a tactile person, physical presence with a product is important to me.)

In any event, regardless of my loyalties, when I see an easy solution to a problem I like to offer it up, so today I wrote to Barnes and Noble customer Service. Below is exactly what I sent, and I'd be interested to hear feedback from other shoppers/readers if I got it right or if I missed anything obvious.

"Dear Barnes and Noble,

As a frequent customer, I'd like to see your business continue to exist. The thought of physical bookstores not existing is something that would be a terrible loss to my community. Having made use of your services, I have a few suggestions.

First, your site to store ordering system is a brilliant tool, that is in your case, fundamentally flawed. Comparing your system to say, Walmart, with Walmart I can add ANY item and pick it up in a physical store, prepaid. With your system it relies on the stores existing inventory. MOST of the time when I go to your site to find a book, it's because I'm already having trouble finding it in store. I don't WANT to have it shipped to me in bad weather, I want to go pick it up.
Additionally, ANY feature that gets people to physically visit your store makes you money. If I walk into the store for ONE book, I will often leave with two or three. Especially if I have kids, friends, or family with me. Updating this feature in your system will make you money by getting people to the store.

Secondly, shipping. Your store relies solely on UPS from your distribution Warehouse. Believe it or not, MANY people do not like UPS. Their delivery times are slower than average, and in many areas they don't even deliver the package themselves. If you provide a secondary option of USPS or even FedEx, and LIST IT as that company, many people will pay MORE to get it shipped through a company they trust. Especially when you're competing with Amazon, that has millions of individual sellers with flexible options, you need to be flexible to stay ahead in the changing marketplace.

Paper books still sell, contrary to sale projection analysts, I know I will continue to buy 95% of my books in PRINT, and the e-books I read are either free, or not available in print. Don't focus solely on the e-book market when there are plenty of ways to increase the sales potential of your existing physical locations.
I hope this suggestion helps.

Liz"

So readers, what do you think about it?

Modern Healthcare in America: A personal story.

This is going to be a personal blog post. It's about me, my experiences, and my issues. I'm not spouting off about politics, I'm not using hyperbolic examples of what I may think people go through, this is all true. Many people have it much worse than me. I really don't consider myself 'poor' but at the same time it doesn't mean things are easy. It doesn't mean I don't struggle. It doesn't mean I don't desperately hope for some kind of change.

As I've announced, I'm happily pregnant with my 2nd child. The last time I got pregnant was in 2006. Back then I'd only just married my husband, and we both worked low end jobs at Sears. He had a blue collar position as an auto-mechanic, doing back-breaking dirty labor under cars in a barely climate controlled garage. I worked on my feet all day behind the counter, selling customers tires and auto services. I loved my job, but it paid dick. Not only was I paid less than 7$ an hour, but since our dept had no room for 'full time' employees, I was there, 38 hours a week, with no benefits. We finally decided for my health that I'd quit before the baby was born, that way I could be home with her. We just had to survive on less than $36K annually, before expenses. The good news was, we made it work.

Back then with our meager earning and bills, we qualified for State Medicaid (now Medicare), for mothers and children. This left my husband without insurance, while he did the hardest work of all, but my prenatal care, my ultrasounds, even our babies expensive treatment for jaundice, was all covered by our insurance. We got the bills, and we sent them to Medicare, and we didn't pay a dime. It was the least stressful visit to the hospital I've ever had. I saw some of the bills, of course, they didn't want to wait to be paid by the state so they often tried to scare us into paying out of pocket. Thousands of dollars for a special hospital lamp to help a newborn deal with jaundice, thousands more for infant bloodwork. The numbers were shocking.

Fast forward, now it's 6 years later, through careful saving and family assistance we now have a house of our own. We have a mortgage and home owners insurance and property taxes too. These are the commitments of owning a home. We also have one less person living with us, one less person bringing in any contribution to the bills. The good news is my husband has a better job. He sits at a desk for a salary, works tireless (and mostly uncompensated thanks to his salary) overtime, and he commutes a lot farther to get there.
We make about 12K more than we used to. With the new baby on the way, that money has to stretch to cover another person. We also exceed the cap for state healthcare. We barely qualified for 'low income child' coverage, which allows us to keep our daughter on a separate health insurance plan. This is the good news.

The bad news is this, after six years of being able to get by with minimal medical influence, with a baby on the way, now we have to spend a lot on prenatal care. For the first time, I'm seeing the bills, and the bills are real.

Remember I said we make $12K more than when we were young and broke? It's an important number. Now for two adults we pay five thousand dollars annually in insurance premiums. That's just what we pay for the privilege of having insurance, whether we use it or not. We also have an office copay, a specialist co pay, a hospital copay, an Urgent Care copay, and an ER copay. It seems anywhere we might go, we're paying just to get in the door, before we even get treatment.
Having actually had to see an OB and have my first pregnancy checkup, the insurance has generously promised not to charge me a co-pay -every- time I see my OB, but they make up for it in labwork. Any labwork that totals less than $250 a visit becomes my bill.

The insurance promises that the hundreds of dollars I'm currently paying is MUCH LESS than than what I would pay if I was uninsured, but I'm not exactly sure why that's supposed to be reassuring. Since the Insurance is profiting off of me and my premiums  they negotiate with the Doctors/Labs to gouge me slightly less on pricing? Less than if I were... say... a professional writer with NO insurance trying desperately to pay for things out of pocket? It strikes me as a disturbingly incestuous relationship if that's the case, punishing people for the crime of being unable to buy insurance.

But back to the numbers... My Ob's lab wants $250 (out of pocket) an ultrasound, he also recommends getting at least 3, possibly 4, given my health history. (*ca ching*) I also have a thyroid issue, that requires blood work at least once every 3 months, for around $50 out of pocket. So for labwork ALONE I'm paying  $1150 out of pocket. But that means I meet my deductible! I should be home free!

No, reading further, the insurance specifies that after meeting my deductible the insurance will INCREASE the percentage of bills they pay for... After I meet the 250$ for labwork and pay my copays. So all that means is until I pay another $4000 out of pocket, I will continue to pay a large chunk of any further labs, bloodwork, testing, office visits, and even after all that is met... I still pay my copays, I still pay my premiums.

To summarize the numbers, I make approximately $10K "too much" per year to qualify for state assistance, yet in the course of a year, I will pay $5K dollars in premiums, more than likely I will pay at least $5K dollars in out of pocket medical expenses, and that's not even touching all the non-medical expenses that come with having a new child. Diapers, bed, bottles, blankets, and finding some kind of insurance for the baby.
This is all assuming no one actually gets sick this year. This is assuming there are no injuries to me or my husband, no complications with the pregnancy. For two perfectly healthy people to bring a perfectly healthy infant into the world, I'll be spending as much as I would no buy a brand new low end car.

Oh, and did I mention that we are lucky to have this insurance? It's provided through my husbands employer. If we needed to pay for a plan as individuals, we'd probably be paying twice as much for a much higher deductible! This generous insurance plan also offers a family plan. I could add my children to the plan for the low low cost of.... doubling my premiums. So instead of 5K annually, we'd be shelling out ten thousand dollars, just to say we have insurance.

Over 6 years of working, hard qualifying for promotions, and living as frugally as possible to avoid debt and keep the bills paid, one year of medical bills can pretty much wipe all that progress away.

I am lucky. I know most of you reading this probably pay much more. Maybe you pay twice as much and still can't see the doctor you want to see because the HMO won't let you. Maybe your copays are okay, but the one medication that actually works is denied by your coverage. Or maybe they just want you to pay hundreds more for medication that you need.
I am lucky because we have some savings, we have a tax return coming, we have family and friends who can donate all the non medical needs, like baby swings and cribs and toys and clothes. I'm lucky because probably, after all these damn bills are done, I will still have the means to feed my children.

It just kills me that it has to be this way in the first place. I know people who make hundreds of thousands more per year... And subsequently wind up paying tens of thousands more for insurance plans and pills. At the same time I have a friend who's father died, at home and in pain, because his small business didn't allow him to have insurance, and even after a devastating accident, he simply couldn't afford a hospital stay.

The system is broken. Every pill should ultimately cost the same, whether its handed to you inside a hospital by a nurse, over the counter at Walmart, or purchased in bulk over Amazon. Every prescription costs the same to manufacture, why does the cost vary so much to the consumer? Every blood test is the same. Every Ultrasound machine uses the same amount of voltage and costs a flat fee to purchase, even if an ultrasound tech is more experienced, it's shouldn't cost that much more per hospital per visit just to wave a wand around and correctly read the picture.

Yet we're all unable to combat the system. The friends I know who are so much richer, what do they say, "Oh it's always been like this." Why? It feels like madness, a rigged system. People are ruthlessly profiting off the sick and the dying and everyone who just needs a prescription. I rage at the insurance companies, but I can't even be sure they're the problem.

I just wish I knew how to fix it.

I'm posting my story, because I feel trapped. Mostly because I know for all I'm struggling, there are thousands of people telling the same story. Worse stories. People who are suffering and at their wits end because they have to choose to live with untreated pain and illness, or be unable to pay their bills. I've been there.  I'm also telling this story for all the people who are delightfully above this problem, people who are happily insured and happily making money and haven't ever had to weigh the cost of of a prescription against the cost of groceries. If you are that lucky, I envy you. I also hope this might be a story that makes you realize real people, who may not seem 'poor', have to fight each month just to pay for healthcare we need.

If you don't believe me when I say the system is broken, I'm not the only one writing about it. Time magazine has this to say: http://healthland.time.com/2013/02/20/bitter-pill-why-medical-bills-are-killing-us/
It's long, and detailed, but worth a look.

News from the Book World! And Don't Pirate books!

       Apparently writing a blog is not something you can easily fake. It requires, you know, actual writing. Planning and editing and all that stuff. So while I'm mired between family birthdays, random school holidays for my child, and the occasional spontaneous illness, I'm just going to pass along more exciting news from other authors in case you missed it.
       
       First up is a BIG announcement I'm REALLY excited about. The fantastic Seanan McGuire has a NEW book coming out in 2014. This is in addition to the Toby and the InCryptid books. Seanan writes awesome urban fantasy with strong female protagonists who are completely real and still utterly bad-ass. This new book she's announced follows that theme, and it's my absolute favorite: Sparrow Hill Road.
       I read the first 'version' of this novel when it was published online, Seanan says it's been edited and improved with new content and I cannot wait to get my hands on it. It's the story of a hitchhiking ghost who lures truckers to their death... At least, that's one story they tell about her. The real story of Rose Marshall is much more complex, and tragic than those poor truckers could imagine.
      It's a fantastic tale of the open highways and of the ghosts who ride the roads. It has a haunting feel of a classic fifties ghost story. Even as Rose travels the roads of the modern day, the strains of the jukebox and the smell of the malt shop seem to cling to her. It's ethereal and real all at the same time. I love it, and I cannot wait to buy my copy.
For more details get the facts straight from Seanan at her blog here. Rose Owls and Pumpkin Girls

      Keeping with the 'books coming sometime down the line' my buddy Chuck Wendig has announced that his previously indie-published (And Kick Starter-ed) books in the Atlanta Burns series, "Shotgun Gravy" and   "Bait Dog". I confess I've not (yet) read them, but I'm always excited to see good authors come to print. Atlanta Burns is a teenager, and these books are going into the Young Adult market, so if you've read Blackbirds and are expecting more of the same here... No, they aren't the same. Chuck's also been contracted to write a third Atlanta novel to add to the set, loosely titled 'Frack You', and I can't wait to see what he comes up with. More details are readily available on Chuck's blog, Terrible Minds.

   Now, February 6th, is the new Official "Don't Pirate My Book" day for authors.

    I periodically rant about the writing/publishing business. It's my dream to someday be shouting out "Hey! Buy MY book!" but it's a dream I approach realistically. I had my eyes opened some years ago to the not so glamorous truth about writing. Writing, even writing successfully, does not make you rich. Yes, there are always exceptions to this rule, but it's a fools errand to believe "I'm going to be the next JK Rowling!".
      No, you probably won't be. Not that you should give up on writing, because daddy always said you should go to business school and get a real job. It just means that realistically, especially in genre fiction, you are going to have to work much harder and longer to become lucrative.
     So don't look at writing as a 'gold mine', or an 'easy job'. Writing has a lot more in common with running your own business. You become your own boss, which can be great, but means you are personally liable for your success or failure. No one else will make you work. No one else can make you improve. If you don't work, and work hard, and work often, your writers cart will sit mired in the mud of obscurity and no one will notice you.
      Yes, I'm probably being very dour about the whole thing, and it may sound like I'm just trying to rain on your dreams. That's not it. I'm trying to dispel a myth. The myth that writers are worshiped as gods, gold flows from their fingers and once you get published all the money will rain down on you. No. Not happening.
     The reason I wish I could stand on my soapbox and shout this to the world, is because so few people grasp the reality of a writers living wage and a writers lifestyle, so they think it's fine to pirate ebooks. IF they even give a thought to the author it's along the lines of "they're so rich, who cares?" This lie makes starving writers cry.
    Now internet file-sharing, copyright infringement, DRM licensing  and the notion of copying and sharing all sorts of 'files' for free is a muddy water. I can understand the frustrations and desires that fuel piracy, really I CAN. I don't even have CABLE. Do you know how LONG it takes to see the next season in a current series on Netflix? But that's a different rant. Basically, I'm not going to wade in and make a bunch of dogmatic statements... I'll just link you to everyone ELSE's authors blog and let you read what THEY have to say on the matter.
     Suffice to say, my choice, for me, is ALWAYS acquiring books legally. I enter giveaways (and I've won a few), I go to the library, I wait until books are in paperback and then buy them, and I use coupons. But I always get them legally. For me, it's not about me getting something, it's about me funding the author. If I steal a book, it's like I'm stealing from a guy I admire. That's my logic. I wouldn't break into an authors house and copy a manuscript off his computer, likewise, I'm not going to copy someone's file of an e-book. They need the sales, the need the sales NUMBERS, and thwarting the tracking system of book sales with shady deals makes kittens sad.

That bizarre rant concluded, I now direct you to some of our friendly neighborhood authors (they might not be that friendly, in fact, some may bite.) and what THEY have to say about internet piracy.

Chuck Wendig kicked the movement off, so we'll start with his post here at Terrible Minds. http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2013/02/06/why-i-hope-you-dont-pirate-my-book/ 

Seanan Mcguire wrote her take, so we should go back to her Blog too. http://seanan-mcguire.livejournal.com/493792.html

Dan O'Shea wrote a profanity flecked piece on his anti-piracy stance here. http://danielboshea.wordpress.com/2013/02/07/you-arent-a-pirate-youre-a-thief-asshole/

Those are the links I have now, I'll edit to add if I'm lucky to find more.

Finally, our moment of zen for the end of post. John Scalzi did something that I find in parts equally hilarious and inspiring, and if I had his means I'd totally do it too. In response to an internet troll using his name, he's now going to donate money, on behalf of the troll, to charities the homophobic, misogynistic, racist troll finds unappealing. Namely, Civil Rights, Gay Rights, and women's rights.
But don't take my word for it, read the whole awesome recap here at Scalzi's blog Whatever.
Tons of people offered to contribute as well, and it's now up to 60,000 dollars. Pretty cool right?

That's the news from my corner of the internet! Hope you enjoyed it.

Book Review! Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig

Cover by Joey Hi-Fi
Buy the Book!

There is no one out there like Miriam Black, and not just because she knows from the moment she shakes your hand exactly how you’re going to die. It has more to do with the fact that she’s an unbreakable survivor, a cynical, slightly twisted woman dredging her way through the roughest people to try and survive in a world where all she sees of people is their deaths.

Blackbirds is like the ‘Breaking Bad’ of literature, it’s gritty, intense, and in your face abrasive, but it draws you in with a weird seduction you just can’t ignore. Diving into the mind of Miriam Black is like jumping down the rabbit hole, but Alice cackles like a banshee and wields a knife. It’s the intensity of the book that grabs you, draws you in, and holds you down for every gut wrenching turn of the page.

This is not a story for people who want nice characters. This is not a story for people who despise vulgarity, or dislike profanity. It’s a violent, dirty, foulmouthed adventure.

Honestly, I was afraid I’d hate it, but there’s something inside Miriam, a real person hiding behind that waving middle finger. Someone who wants deeply to have a real connection to the world, but is endlessly battered by the stream of death visions she can’t escape.

Blackbirds is a story of a woman trying to survive her own curse, while at the same time desperate to find a way to beat it somehow. It’s hard to make friends when you already know, in intimate detail, how their last moments will feel. It’s even harder to gain a person’s trust when they don’t want to believe what you’ve seen.

Miriam’s been doing her best to keep people out of her heart and out of her life since death started to play its moving picture show inside her head. Unluckily for her, she knows something’s going to change when a stranger she meets dies saying her name.

All it takes is one vision and Miriam’s stuck on a path carved by fate, and no matter what direction she runs, and what sort of people she runs into, she can’t shake her feet from that road.

Ultimately, there is only one question Miriam wants to answer. Is there any way to cheat death? If Miriam isn’t careful, the death she’s getting closer to is her own. 

Blackbirds is a fantastic read. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever read, and as I delved carefully into the first gritty chapter I felt, for a moment, afraid to go on. Like Alice, I glanced back before sliding down the rabbit hole, but once I got into the tale I was hooked. Miriam has a grit I can respect, she might flip you off, and curse you out fluently and vehemently, but once she finds that you don’t scare off that quickly, you just might see there’s more to her than even she wants to look closely at.

Beyond the heroine, Chuck Wendig weaves an intricate plot about the questions of death and destiny, choice and predetermination. Miriam’s no sweetheart, but the specter of Death that haunts her dreams is an even bigger dick. Even as Miriam fights to rip her feet from the trail laid out for her, Death walks beside her, appearing in visions and dreams, taunting her every choice.

The images in the writing are powerful, and some of the visuals linger long after. I have a very different perception of ravens now than I ever did before.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, and more than just being deeply affected by this book, I have to praise the writing. The imagery and craft is phenomenal, especially for the first book in a set. Chuck Wendig has honed his skills and delivers Blackbirds in a way that is powerful, flawless, and damned impressive writing.

For this Blackbirds earns the coveted 10/10. A+ Rating.

There’s only one thing I can say to top that off. The second book, Mockingbird? It’s just as good.

This is How I do It: Book Reviews

Just a quick note before I launch my first real Book Review here on site. Basically I've done reviews where I just spew a squeegasm onto paper and tell you all how awesome the thing is.
However now I plan to do things a little differently. I'm trying to focus on providing a review with good presentation that gives you a snapshot of the book without spoilers, that highlights my experience of the book, while still allowing for your own interpretation. I refuse to put spoilers in my reviews, because I hate tripping over them when I troll the web for new material.

At the top and bottom of each book I'll give a "Grade" this is my personal subjective opinion on where the book ranks in a 10 out of 10 scale. This hinges on a lot of things, an authors past works, my expectations of the novel, writing craft, and whether the overall story grabbed and held my attention.
There will glowing reviews, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't love reading and want to share my passion, but in fairness there will be critical reviews and yes, even the dreaded Bad Book Review.

I'm also toying with the idea of a semi-frequent post titled 'Calling to the Carpet', a chance where I will tackle with blistering honesty a particular book failing. I'm reserving this for sections where the writing just didn't stand up, when the craft fumbled. I don't like to focus on the negative, but I think we can all remember at least one time as a reader when  a book failed so dramatically that we actually felt betrayed. (This happens much more often to me at the movies!) These moments deserve at least an accounting, and even if nothing ever comes of it, at the very least there will be those of you who empathize and appreciate the vicarious venting.

That said, let's move on to our first Book Review in the new system, a book I've reviewed before, but I liked it so much I wanted to kick off the new review section with a real winner.
Head on to the next post for "Blackbirds"!

Sharing what's in my Brain...

I've recently had a lot of 'don't wanna edit'-itis and coupled with a neurotic little voice that says "Don't post that blog post! It's not been revised!" Things are sort of stalling on my end. At some point I will either embrace the editing process, or I will just flat out post what I've written first draft and call it good.

Confession: I never learned to edit in school. Never. Being labeled 'gifted in English' plus having a keen eye to which courses would require the least amount of effort, I found myself skating through writing assignments by just writing a draft, doing a copy edit for spelling, and turning it in. My school ethos was in a word, lazy. I even wrote an entire persuasive essay on the topic of nature v nurture completely from my own conjecture, I lost points for not having a bibliography, but the meat of the article was deemed wholly sound.

Thus, I am a spoiled brat who left school convinced of my writing skills, and now that I am facing the 'real world' of writing, I realize how very, very wrong I was. Rewriting is vital, editing is essential, and embracing the truth of "No first draft is perfect" is something that is profoundly improving my writing.
Sadly, I'm still lazy. Overcoming my inclination to take shortcuts, especially on a blog of 'unofficial' writing, is warring with my perfectionist's desire to present really well written, smooth flowing, impressive writing.

This is my conundrum, and I managed to write most of a blog post about it. (This is also a first draft, forgive my ramble.) Yet, rather than letting my blog sit vacant and dull, leaving you all to question my absence, here are some of the things I've gotten involved in recently, and I'm delighted to share.

First off, I kicked in my own meager donation to the massively successful charity crowdfund event for Jay Lake. Even though the original small goals were met right away, the event is still ongoing and every bit of your help goes to help a fellow writer.
http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/sequence-a-science-fiction-writer/38705

Additionally, even if you don't donate, the link includes a list and links to all the silly whimsical rewards performed by other writers including Seanan Mcguire, John Scalzi, Pat Rothfuss, and Neil Gaiman. Plus many more! These are all fantastic, (esp Scalzi's Bob Dylan impression.). They also give you the impression of a group of people who care a great deal about each other, willing to embarrass themselves, and have a good time doing it for the sake of a friend.

Other things I've been doing is reading some more very excellent books. Despite the fact that I read very quickly, it's not always easy for me to sit down and just read, so I've only read two new books this month.

"Discount Armageddon"  by Seanan McGuire was a truly amazing delightful read. I bought it on release day and had it perched in my "To Be Read" pile for far too long.
This is the first in Seanan's new Incryptid series, and reading it means diving headlong into a fantastic spin on reality where all the monsters are real, but much more likely to be your eccentric neighbor than something out to maul you in the woods. Sure, some monsters are just plain deadly, and some monsters don't have enough intelligence to try to adapt to a modern world, they'd rather keep stinging, biting, and eating any human that stumbles into them.
I'll have a more in depth review to come, but I highly recommend it. My favorite part was the best choreographed fight scene set to music I've ever read. Utter GOLD.

"Dead to Me" by Anton Strout is the first book in the Simon Canderous series, and while I'm still a few chapters from the end I'm really enjoying the ride. I picked up this book mostly because I've been so impressed by Anton on a personal level. He's a fun guy who isn't afraid to tweet about the crazy that goes into the writing process, and he's very connected to his readers. Plus, he's let me give him a hard time. He and his wife are expecting TWINS this summer, so if ever there was a man who could use your book sales Anton is worthy.
More than just the author, I'm enjoying the book itself. Simon is a guy trying to improve himself and find a good standing in a strange and dangerous career where stopping a zombie uprising has it's own set of forms that must be filled out in triplicate and signed before you can even think of going home to wash off the gore. It's the weird and wild as controlled by a government bureaucracy. The tightly controlled filing and organization is a little similar to Myke Cole's Shadow Ops, and the adventures in dark New York City alleys is a perfect complement to "Discount Armageddon".  I can almost imagine Simon meeting up with Verity one night. Hopefully without someone getting shot or punched!

That's what I've been up to, and with all this talk about "Dead to Me" I want to go finish reading! Stay warm this winter!
Liz

A new post! Surprise!

Okay, glancing over my past blog entries, and this blog is starting to make me look bad. I mean look, all these promises and not nearly enough follow through. This blog is fast becoming the ink and cyberspace equivalent of "Top Gear" (UK). Ambitious... but rubbish.
(We're going to blame the blog for all of this. Not the author. The author pretends to deny any responsibility for inconsistencies posted here. These aren't the blog post's you're looking for. Look over there!)

All the silly glib humor stated, I have to admit 2012 was a hell of a year. Started out badly, hit some higher points near the middle, then crashed and burned quite thoroughly. Nationally we had fires, and hurricanes, shootings and a wild drama filled election. Personally, I dealt with depression, a few months of fantastic productivity and wild ideals, followed by one of the worst crashes I've had in years. I still have mixed feelings discussing all of this, but I feel better when I'm honest, and I'm pragmatic about my failings. Living with depression can sometimes feel like living with an exposed 'self destruct' button and the faster life goes and the more expectations you build for the future, it's all too easy to slip and hit that button, then it all goes sideways.
I've been thinking I'll write more on that later. To reassure you, don't worry, I'm doing much better now. It can be hard at times, but I find it easier to talk about when I'm feeling better, and while I can't promise to be better 'forever' (no one can), I'm always optimistic about the future.

Now more good news! My husband and I had always planned on having two kids, yet life and certain matters of biology conspired to thwart my best efforts. (I may be a tiny bit of a control freak) Thus we aspired earlier in 2012 to accept being parents to an only child, and make plans for all the freedoms that would bring... And Fate, quite loudly, began laughing.

I'm delighted to announce, I'm now expecting a baby this summer. My husband and I found out just before Christmas, and got to enjoy telling our family the good news over the holidays. This may mean that I don't quite get my novel revised and ready for submission quite as soon as I hoped, but I'm more than happy to wait the extra time since our family will finally be complete.

My daughter, who's almost six, is excited to be a big sister and has gotten to practice mothering on her toddler cousins. She's getting smarter and more considerate every day. However, she insists she won't be changing any diapers. Man, kids these days!

So in summary, I have NO idea what my future plans for this blog will be, and at the risk of Fate mocking me again, I'm pretty much going to play things by ear without confining myself to any big commitments. I do hope to post on the blog with semi-regularity, and I've had a lot of fantastic dreams and plot bunnies sprouting up so maybe I'll even find ways to titillate you with new writing.

That's my big announcement! Happy 2013 everyone!

P.S. Another brilliant writer I've come to know, Anton Strout, will also be celebrating the birth of twins this year. I think we need to set up a Baby's of Writers Photoblog or something. WE WILL RULE YOU ALL WITH CUTENESS! If you want in let me know.