Sunday Stroke Survival: Publishing, Selling Articles, and Guest Posting

I've recently received several comments, requests, and guest posting requests. In actuality, it's several requests a month over the lasts several years. As an author, I'm flattered. As a stroke survivor, I'm honored by the requests.

As a previously hybrid published author, I know what sells well and what doesn't. Another self published memoir of a stroke survivor just doesn't have the market niche that equals sales. It's a vanity press offering at best. What made my my proposal for Don't Get Your Panties in a Wad go to a bidding war between publishers with only the first draft of 30K words was it was a niche nobody had hit on before. It was a humorous point of view. Unfortunately, a third stroke left the book unfinished and nonpunishable.

While I write and syndicate a stroke survivor's blog/article each week, it's not the same as writing a book. Writing a book takes planning, outlining, and organizing. None of which I do well anymore. My blogs/articles can now take several weeks in the writing and editing stages before they are published. The confidence born of over 30+ years in publishing is gone. Words that magically popped into my brain in an instant may now take several hours or days to materialize.

So why struggle with doing it at all? It's important to me and others. It helps caregivers to understand their loved ones who may not be able to voice their thoughts. It helps other stroke survivors feel they are not alone. It may allow other stroke survivors to even look at their life in a positive light. The hundreds of emails I get each month can't all be crazy or trying to promote something. On average they are split 50/50 between stroke survivors/caregivers and medical/health care providers. While comments on various blogs may be in single digits, the emails and hits on any blog/article may reach into the hundreds or thousands. That speaks volumes to me and urges me to continue.

NOT!

I do write guest posts and do some personal appearances. I don't always mention them here. I am no way an "expert" although I accept the title of "advocate." I firmly believe everyone should be self advocating. Yes, I'm Dr Murphey with a PhD in theology, but prefer being called Pastor Jo. I have a lot of real life experiences that allows me to speak on a wide range of subjects but an "expert" that's stretching if in the broadest sense of the word. I do require two weeks notice on guest posts and at least two months notice on guest appearances.

I've always said that I could wallpaper a room with all of mine.  I recently threw out a box of mine and my husband's. That's how much stock I held in all the Associates, Bachelor's, Master's and

PhDs we held. It just added to papers we held onto to prove our man made gauges of how smart we were and the ability to add letters after our names to make it official. Who really cares about an a BSN and all the sub specialization letters after my name if I save your life? Isn't saving your life enough? It only matters to relicensing boards, and if I'm looking for a job even though graduation for some is dated in the 1970s if I still maintained my licenses for a fee. Computer programming langues I learned in the 1980s only were useful until Y2K. Made a killing with that (Grin). Now that information is obsolete. Accounting I learned in the 80s has been replaced with software that even a monkey can do. Still, once upon a time each of of them had value, but not so much anymore even with publishing anything. Everything is but what have you done lately?

So now I write about what I do everyday living post stroke and homesteading. Yes, I could do it for money, but unless I can clear five figures a year doing it, it doesn't pay for me to write for profit. Once upon a time it was possible, even upwards of 6 or 7 figures, but now I'm living  post stroke.  I realize my limitations for now. But..

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: It's All About Me! Well, Sort of

But I love you too!

My only New Years resolution of sorts that I made was to focus on me more than others in 2017. If you really knew me, you'd realize what a challenge this is for me. In all my 60 years of life, I've put others before me to the point where I literally drove myself constantly into the ground. Do I sound selfish? It's not totally going to be a meme year though. The homestead is a huge undertaking and that's where my main focus will be, but there are other goals I'd like to explore and do that I've put on a back burner for far too long putting out everyone else's fires. Everyone else needs to take responsibility and just deal with it.

Sounds strange coming from a professed minister, right? Not entirely so. A huge part of my meme year involves others and their well being including my own. What I've wanted and been guided, by the Lord, is to reach more disabled folks and show them an alternative to just existing. I've been shown that this is my ministry field now. While I've continued writing this blog, I've done very little else. This will change in 2017.

I'm starting with a subcategory of our Cockeyed Homestead YouTube channel with a series of videos on homesteading and being disabled. I'll probably start a whole new channel. How does "The Single-Handed Homesteader" strike you? No, I'm not leaving the Cockeyed Homestead and will still do videos for that channel, but this will go more in depth of my faith, philosophy, how-tos, to give those disabled folks out there both a kick in the pants, and hope that they can also have their dreams, or at least some of them. They ain't dead yet no matter how much they want to be. This was a goal I set for me almost three years ago. It's time for me to get cracking on it. For many over at my stroke recovery blog, it's been a long awaited promise fulfilled. No, it won't be as originally intended with me by my lonesome. Homesteading is hard enough without disabilities, and with the move to north Georgia, I'm no longer alone.

I hear you. "But Jo, that's not selfish!" True, in part. I don't think I've got a totally selfish bone in my body. It is my commitment service to the Lord that guided me to this. Why else would He have allowed me these challenges to overcome? Especially with Him knowing me so well. (grinning) It nourishes my soul and blesses me abundantly so in my mind it is selfish. It's all about me. My growth. My faith. My resilience. My philosophy towards adversities. I'll just carry viewers along on the journey. If it touches one other soul and brightens their life, all the work put into it will be worth it. But then again, it's all about me.

The second part is to get involved on the local level.  I know you've all heard this before. I researched stroke support groups. While being a leader and unique in life is admirable, it can get lonely at the top. I used to say even a minister needs a minister from time to time. Yes, I have my Heavenly Father, but it doesn't hurt to have a good support system here on Earth too. After repeatedly calling the local stroke support group and not getting a call back, I'm going to present myself in person at the local hospital, which sponsors the group. I'm not leaving until I have talked to someone who knows what is going on. Yes, I can be stubborn that way and I'm tired of feeling alone here when I know I'm not.

So that's the plan. Work continues on the cookbook and life continues on the homestead living post stroke.

Nothing is impossible!

Redefining Disability Project~ Post #16

Today we have a two-fer because they are so closely related.


What are the biggest challenges that you face in regard to disability?
What do you think are the biggest challenges that your family members face in regard to disability?


We are a two person household with only me being the only one capable of doing everything or anything, I'll answer both of these at once. My biggest challenge is dealing with my husband, and just doing what needs to be done and accepting what doesn't get done.

For over a decade, my husband has slowly been winding down on what he can do. It left me to fill in where he couldn't. Up until last year, he could walk outside, get the paper and the mail. Now he can barely walk to the door. Ten steps from where he lays. Because of all his medications and the tumors in his body he is easily confused and instructing him to do anything is like talking to a two-year old in a grown man's body.

The male ego is easily crushed so I include him in most tasks even if it is only discussion. I'll ask him to open jars that I've popped the seal on. He'll cut out coupons for groceries for me. We'll discuss the bills before I pay them. We'll talk about meals even though  I've got it planned. I'll bring him my grocery list so he thinks he's budgeting even though I've done it already while making the list.

In my mind the male ego is like egg shells. Strong enough to hold the egg's contents, but can't be stepped on without exploding its contents all over the place. Similar to a man dealing with a woman going through severe PMS. One wrong step and there are explosive consequences. So I basically weigh in on all sides before doing anything. It's quite a stressful way to live, but I manage.

Able to do before my stroke

On the other hand, I have my limits because of my disabilities to deal with also. There are some things I positively can't do like clapping my hands with both hands. I'm having to adapt with almost everything I do. But there are limits to how much adaptation is necessary for a successful outcome and there are varying degrees of success. For example, I used to be able to decorate a cake or cupcakes almost in my sleep, and they would be picture perfect every time. Now, I do good if I manage to slap the frosting on where it needs to be. No matter how much care I take with the job, it will look like a child did it. I just don't have the dexterity in my left hand. I never will because of gross injuries to it in my past. I have to accept this and grudgingly do. Cake pops are me settling and achieving success.

There are many examples of this in daily life post stroke. Adaption is never as good as the original ability to do. It can be close but never perfect. While not a "A" type personality, there are areas where my drive for perfection can take over. Cooking and writing are two of these areas.

It irritates me to no end that I can't lift a pan or pot without two hands. I always have to downsize what I've planned to lift it with one hand. Every day I'm thankful that we are empty nesters instead of having small children who need to be fed, bathed and well, just about everything done for them. Yes, I do most of this for my husband, but he isn't thrashing around and fighting me while I do it. Or at least not usually. But I digress.

I cook now in small quantities for one and a quarter people or maybe a large serving for one person. So I can make things that take the now required multiple steps to prepare. I can chop the tablespoons of vegetables. For example, one large onion will make four recipes or meals for us. I can chop one half cooked chicken, a tablespoon of celery and onions for chicken salad and it will make four sandwiches...two meals for us. A two- pound roast equals  three meals and sandwiches. You get the idea.

With writing, my frustration level blows the top off the meter. Even writing this blog takes three hours just to get the words on the screen and another two in an attempt to get it legibly edited. Trying to write like I used to do is almost impossible right now. This blog is my adaption. It helps make it possible for me to write again one day. Or at least, that's what I telling myself. Yes, my typing and writing have improved over the years, but no where near good enough to attempt the simplest of stories let alone a novel.

Even with all of this, one of my goals for the year is to restart writing my nonfiction, Don't Get Your Panties in a Wad. I hear you out there,

"You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"
"With all you got on your plate?"
"Why stress yourself and add to your frustration?"
"Cut yourself so slack. Just chill more a while more and it will get easier."

Nope to all of the above. I'm a writer. Writers write. The frustration I feel in writing is only half as much as my overwhelming desire to write. It is almost an undeniable urge to write that only another author understands. It's almost causes physical pain not to do it. The call will be answered.

In the mean time, the challenges are met or accepted when not met. I've always taken the bull by the horns and handled it.To reiterate a slogan from the seventies, I'm gonna keep on truckin'.

What do you find is the most challenging things in your life and how do you conquer them?

Until next Tuesday, I'm outta here for the Redefining Disabilities Project.

Redefining Disabilities Project~ Post #5

It's that time again to answer another question.


#5. What are some significant moments/events in your life that connect to disability? 

This is a toughie mainly because there are so many to choose from. I haven't exactly lived a normal, humdrum life. I am, by no choice of my own, an adrenaline junkie. Well, that's not entirely true...maybe in the beginning. I choose to make a difference in whatever I'm involved in. I'll be the spear head instead of the shaft. That's my choice.

I read about an artist who was a quadriplegic. Of course I'm talking about Joni Eareckson, now Eareckson Tada, and was inspired that even with her disability she became an artist. 

Then there was Jill Kinmont, the Olympic skier, who became a
teacher despite her being paralyzed.

Who was I, a "normal" teenage with some unchangeable "disabilities." Nothing like these women faced and I could achieve my dreams also. I, like them, set out to make my own mark on life. Anything was possible with determination became my life defining, guiding star of focus.

As a teenager, I was named Junior Ambassador for the American Lung Association for Georgia. Yeah, I started early as an advocate for the underdogs in this world. Not to mention my own lung incapacitates. Who would have dreamed that later in life, I would be married to a man dying of COPD? Ironic, huh?

Later in life, I became a JRA spokesperson for the Arthritis Foundation because I had a daughter with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. Another underdog situation, I was hopping mad because there was not enough public awareness or support for these kids and their families.

I wrote article after article about it leading to my first book publication. So in the beginning, my writing career was a fluke that I came to love all because of being an advocate fighting for recognition for the underdog.

Self serving? Yes, but I took it to the ultimate levels. I didn't just sit back and take it. It taught me to be proactive no matter what came in the future. That leads me to today as a stroke survivor. I write this blog which is republished through various entities worldwide. From just the emails, I've counted ten countries so far. That's just that I know about. But by going into the analytics side of this blog, it's more like 50.

Credit My new T-shirt

Roughly two-thirds of all stroke victims survive their stroke. We all want answers, news, hope, the down sides, the up sides, and the in between. I'm no different.

It's encouraging to know "I'm not he only one." That's why I talk about everything on this blog regarding my stroke. Nothing is taboo. I also don't blow smoke up your wazoo, but tells it like I see it.

Life with disabilities is no picnic. But take comfort in the fact, there's always someone worse off than you. I always say things can be worse. Just look around you. While there is life-there is hope that it will get better.

About my new T-shirt...Yes, I won. Yes, I'm paralyzed, but I'm a winner. Yes, I talk funny, but I'm a winner. Yes, I'm jobless minister, but I'm a winner. Huh? How do you figure? I see y'all scratching your heads out there and the steam coming out of your ears as you work those brain cells too hard.

I won because I'm alive to tell the story. Yes, it might take a week to write one blog, but I do it. I might have no or limited use of one side of my body, but it could be worse. I could be like Joni Eareckson Tada, with no use of both arms and legs, but look at what she has achieved! The aphasia limits me in speaking, but I still can make my point by typing and speaking. Some stroke survivors are just learning to vocalize after ten years post stroke. I'm still a minister although I'm not in the pulpit again yet. My congregation is you. The down trodden looking for hope. Hope is the one thing I can still believe in and instill in others. Where there is will and hope, nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival ~ Aphasia, Wouldn't Dragon Speak Work?

I don't know how many times over the past two year that someone has asked me if Dragon Naturally Speaking or some other speak instead of typing software would help me write my books. I know I'd be rich at a dime for every time I answered no. I wish it would.

Yes, as far as not having to type everything with a keystroke onto the page, it would. Typing is a challenge one handed but doable. But my difficulties with writing are more complex.

I have aphasia. The inability to transfer thoughts into words or even carry thoughts for very long. Luckily I don't have a problem with comprehension for the most part. I can write a blog because there are previous words or sentences to keep me on track. In this I'm very lucky indeed. Many can't. I'm also fortunate that I can recognize that something is not right with what I'm about to say and tell the listener. I'll say that this isn't the correct word but it's all I can recall at the time. They can easily do a substitution for the right word or play twenty questions with me to get the right word.

My problem with comprehension comes into play when I read. For example, a story with multiple characters often finds me flipping backwards to recall who a character is or what they said. It really takes the enjoyment out of reading fiction. This is where my second stroke hit me the hardest. So mostly I read subject based nonfiction. Biographies are in the same boat as fiction for me.

Getting back to speak-typing programs. With voice recognition software they will have you repeat certain phrases to get a baseline of how you speak. How I speak words in the morning, afternoon and at night sound different depending on what has gone on during the day and my level of fatigue. First thing in the morning and late at night (the usual time I write), my speech is slurred more than if I've been awake and vocalizing for a couple of hours. My mouth will form the right letters but the sound is off than my usual voice. Which has almost totally changed since my stroke.

My voice has to wake up and be exercised before I'm clearly understandable. That's a blessing of being alone in the house with my lip-reading hubby. Sound doesn't matter. Unfortunately for me, this is the same time I'm most creative. Focusing on how I'm pronouncing my words is like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time. I can't do it anymore. My multitasking and juggling skills rank right down there with the average male and I used to be a master at it. No offense meant, but it is a proven fact that women can multitask better than males.

At five AM and after nine PM, the simple phrase, "I'm having a good day" sounds like "I ma hasing a goo a." But between seven AM and eight PM it's clearly understandable. This does not include the first half an hour after a nap. So you can see the difficulties with voice recognition software. Also my speech is constantly improving. How I speak now is infinitely better than even six months ago. I would constantly be upgrading the voice recognition. In fact, I'd probably be spending more of my time upgrading than actually writing. I'm still getting jumbled between the English-English pronunciations and the American-English. I guess I've reverted to my previous English language lessons.

This point was brought home today with my sister in law's visit. I haven't seen her in a year.  She exclaimed today, "You are doing so much better than the last time I saw you."

My first thought was kind of nasty..."Well what did you expect after a year of getting better?" Of course I answered considerably more cordially and thanked her. You know that look that dogs get when they twist their head to one side when they hear something strange? Well I saw her do that more than once during her 45-minute visit so it must have been something I said or how I said it.Yep, aphasia can be a real witch with a "b" in normal conversations no matter how well you think you are doing.

Now that she's gone and I can breathe again, I look back at the improvements I have made and am thankful. There's something about trying to play catch-up after a year's absence that is totally draining. I need a nap. But after this long winded blog...No, I can see no sense in getting a voice recognition software program to assist me in writing my books. I have to fix my mind first. Now if I was thinking entire scenes and dialogues within a couple seconds like I used to...maybe, but for me right now, I'll pass.

Nothing is impossible with determination.

Need a Kick in the Pants? Your Inspiration for Today

I have been reading blogs this morning. Not that I don't read all of the blogs, but some hit home more than others. Yeah, yeah, I have been horrible about not commenting lately, but I'm reading you. A couple of blogs stand out at me from the long list of bloggers I follow.

• One is Diane's The Pink House On The Corner. Her husband had a stroke in 2010. Two-thirds of his brain was affected. In spite of everyone suggesting to put him in a long-term facility, she brought him home. She is his primary caregiver. They had a life and still do, but changed forever. She was a published author and he was a graphic artist. Neither one are doing what they once were. Today, she blogs about an end to a dream. She has been told her husband will never walk again. Hard blow for them, but as I told her in the comments, never give up hope.

• The second blogger is Nathan Bransford. He interviewed a published author with Cerebral Palsy, Steven Salmon. Steven writes his books in Morse code. So far he's published three books.

• I'm a stroke survivor fighting my way back to become a better writer than I once was.  The hurdles are great, but I'm fighting one of the hardest battles I've ever faced and trying to do it with grace. My strokes are relatively young so there is definitely some mighty high hurdles to leap over to get where I want to be. You can find her here. Oh wait! You are already following and reading me.

So my question is...what hurdles are you having to leap over that you think are insurmountable? Yes, life will always put hurdles in front of you to leap over or trip you up. It's what you do with those hurdles that counts the most.

If you've tripped and fallen, do you sit on the ground nursing your boo-boo, or do you pick yourself up and finish the race?

Are you a quitter, a person that leaves things started but never finished? If so, why in the world would you want to become an author? It takes many hours, days, weeks, months, years of dedicated work to make it in publishing.

Are you a one hit wonder like the musical groups in the 60s? Whew, I wrote and published one book! Where do I go from here? Well, I put everything into this one published book and haven't got enough gumption to write another. Guess what! You're a one hit wonder. Write another one and put the same amount of effort into it. So many authors put everything into the first book which sells very well, and their second book is a stinker. Have the same intensity of effort into each book you write.

That's my two-cents for today but with inflation I think it's worth a quarter.

Wednesday Writerly Ways?

You may have noticed I've stopped writing my "Wednesday Writerly Ways." This is a temporary set back. How long it will last is anybody's guess.

There are a number of reasons for this. Mainly, it's hard to write about writing, self-publishing, and marketing when you aren't doing any of it. Yes, I could rely on memories but that hardly seems fair because there is no forward action these days.

The limited amount of energy I have because of my strokes, caring for my husband, and just life in general saps almost all my creative juices. If you've read my updates and my "Sunday Stroke Survival" you know what I'm going through. It's just too much junk! Well not really junk, but necessary distractions.

I could fight against the tide of overwhelming have-to-dos and write but writing should not be a chore. Now editing is ALWAYS a chore. I refuse to put writing in the chore category. I've gotten nothing but enjoyment from my many writing pursuits as it should be. Yes I still blog, but I'm even doing that with a couple heaping spoons of salt. But at least this is writing.

I mentioned in one of my stroke blogs how I read now and the way my brain isn't working anymore and said I'd give an example of how I write now without corrections and heavy editing...here goes. Squiggles be damned.

I wake up thiz mrning to (XXX lost) my husnd on the flour. I chek her ot to make sure their are no brkoe bones. Not broke so me hplelp him up and beck two bed.

Horrible isn't it. Now try to write small stories or attempt a novel writing like this! Now think of this whole blog post this way and you can see the struggle I have just to post one blog.

First I have to realize I made a mistake (some words aren't squiggled). I still mess up pronouns even in speech. My brain is healing ever so slowly. This is a lot better than just after my second stroke. My first left me unable to speak but I could write fairly well after a fashion.

No, I'm not whining or on the pity pot. I'm just telling like it is. I used to say, words are my life. Now it's changed to correcting myself is my life. Frustrating? Oh yeah with bells and cherries on top. So to alleviate any added frustration...I've stopped writing for now. It's just going to take some more time to get my brain in gear so bear with me.

Nothing is impossible with determination, BUT you also pick a few battles you can win.

Thursday Turmoil~ Something Spooky Passes This Way

Over in Compuserve's Books and Writers Forum (link on the  left) last month, the exercise was to create a story that included certain words in the story line. Five words each week for five weeks. The kicker was a 100 word limit. Each week had a writing theme like Introduction, Developing Conflict, Twists and reversals etc. It was going to be a challenge even to those with undamaged brains.

For anyone that knows how I write, I rarely write under a 1,000 word story, and prefers writing novellas versus short stories. Words are my friends. I've shied away from fiction because it is confusing for me with my stroke and short-term memory loss. Let alone writing it. I just can't keep multiple characters and scenes straight in my mind.

 This was my first venture back into fiction writing and I was terrified. What if I couldn't write fiction anymore or at least not the way I used too? What if I fell flat on my face and couldn't finish what I had started? What if I got overwhelmed in some giant brain fart? The what ifs after a stroke will get you every time.

I didn't join the exercise until the second week but included the first week into the entry when I joined in. It took me three days to write the 200 words with the given ten words and form a fiction story. The third week one day and the rest the same day the words were announced.

When I started, I wasn't sure I would finish the five week exercise.  You couldn't plan the story ahead because you had no idea what words would come up next. It was turning on a dime. Something I haven't been real good at since my stroke. But I knew I had to jump start my writing again and the exercises had always helped in the past.

In retrospect, which is always easier, these were the goals and words you had to work within.
.

Week 1: Intro of setting and characters and inciting incident.

Words: over, drive, pact, endless, incite
Week 2: Rising action, development of conflict.

Words: astray, blood, toast, cursed, boardinghouse
Week 3 – Twists and reversals

Words: grain, obey, approach, backward, eyetooth
Week 4 – Climax and resolution
Words: bizarre, forgotten, abomination, feast, black
Week 5 – Denouement
Words: inner, pinch, belong, treasure, dove

My mind was in Halloween mode already having gone out to buy cobwebs and  candy for the ghouls and goblins that would be visiting tonight. So wihout further ado this is what I came up with and it's a perfectly good story for Halloween retelling.

Friends to the End

Credit

After the endless drive her car loaded with three other people, they were at each other's throats. The first half hour was fun reminiscing about old times, but then that stopped. They led different lives now after years apart. It was now who would incite a riot first. After only driving for 50 miles they were now in deep the Smoky Mountains. They met at Charlotte's International airport. Of course, she'd drive them all. This was her stomping grounds. Whoever thought some stupid pact made back in college would come back and visit just over ten years later.

Now Jeff fidgeted in his seat, Andrea peered through the windshield, and Barry snored irritatingly in back. Candice could barely see the front end of her metallic red, 2012 650i BMW convertible due to the heavy blanket of fog. She wanted to get this done, but safety concerns made her pull into the Boardinghouse Inn. According to local lore it was cursed, but damn the wives tales about children going astray and blood curdling screams in the night. She held up an imaginary glass. A toast to the beasties of the night and given this group, they might scare them.

The elderly woman behind the reception desk must have heard their approach and she beckoned them forward with thin, gnarled fingers. Candice's first reaction was to take a backward step landing squarely on Jeff's foot and he hissed an all too familiar string of curse words into her ear. He shoved her forward to obey the elderly woman's gesture. Candice would have given her right eyetooth or willingly drank wood grain alcohol rather than lead this group towards the skeleton framed woman. Saying she looked like death warmed over would have been an exaggeration. Turning, "Maybe we should keep driving."

Soon as Candice reached the car, she regretted her decision. She could barely make out the black main road. The others had followed her and were chastising her for her childish cowardice. The old woman was too bizarre for words. They continued on towards their destination. It would surely be a feast of death relegated to her nightmares of a forgotten abomination. Andrea next to her let out an eardrum piercing shriek. A deer! She instinctively yanked the wheel to the right not thinking of the mountain road. And then, there was the sensation of falling.

The JAWS made short work of the roof. There honestly wasn't much left of the beautiful convertible and they found the treasure they sought. The inner struts imbedded deep within the chest of one male. A Nomex clad firefighter dove under the dash finding a small raven haired woman underneath like a rag doll thrown where it didn't belong. He pinched the flesh to get a response.

Eyelids fluttered, and then opened wide in fright. An unearthly scream followed, "The old hag is coming for us!"

Candice drew her last breath. The woman had come for all of them.

The End 
 I think I still got it! I'm proud that I put my doubts aside and tried. Not too shoddy result, I might add.

 Happy Halloween Y'all.

Keep writing and loving the Lord.