An Author

To Be An Author

by B.D. Adams ©2015

 

 

 

“A

nd, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

 

Most of my young life, I was asked that question by older folks who thought they were being wise or studious. Mostly, they just wanted to show they were wiser than my little self.

How I hated that question. Once, being in a bratty mood, I answered, “I want to be the president.” That brought snickers and looks from the men that said, “In your dreams.”

The women were no better with their answers. Always, they would piously smile and offer, “You want to be a Mom. Right? Or a secretary or nurse first – and then, marry the boss or a doctor!”

Bull-pucky!! I was a Texas girl and wanted to be the boss! I was born in Ft. Worth and lived in Texas until I was 18. Then, moved to Columbus, Ohio, to attend Ohio State University.

Because of the social stigmas, I lived my life according to “Hoyle.” My mother was an avid Bridge player in the ‘50s. I never learned to play that card game. I was more into Poker and Pool and Tennis. Because my father taught me to fish, swim and play tennis, I developed a competitive personality. I learned how to play pool/billiards all on my own. I played pool in any bar or hall I’d go to. Still have my cue. (check out my Blog for “The Rolling 8 Ball”)

Because of my tenacious/competitive nature, I became a pro photographer. My longtime male friend trained, educated me in photography. He knew I was an artist and wanted to use my artistic know-how to be in his studio.

For over 25 years – in different studios around the country – my career was in the photo arts.

As the direction of my “luck” went, however, I had a hemorrhagic stroke in June of 1998. My right side was taken from me. I was in Columbus surrounded with my friends and competitors. Most didn’t know how to be with me, once I was out of the hospital.

Talk about a change! I was forced into “early retirement” from photography. Oh, I tried to
maintain my vocation, but when you had limited, and I mean very limited use of your right leg and hand/arm, photo equipment was more than a struggle.

I had a few friends who encouraged my continued reconnections with photography. My dear friend who taught me photography, gave me a recorder to possibly write about my condition. However, even I knew my limits. I needed more physical therapy to better become mobile, more regular.

My condition became as better as it could with all the therapy. However, I became tired of all “pity” I heard from people, especially from many I knew. I needed a change. I relocated to New Hampshire to live with the encouragement of a woman I had met on-line in a Chat-Room way before the stroke. I loved NH!

Once in NH, my friend introduced me to the fellow I now live with. How nice.

Since I had been able to type – took typing in high school – I trained my left hand to do ALL the typing. Forget “blind typing.” Because I could type, I was able to get a few jobs in NH. Unfortunately, though, I was always too slow because of the stroke’s condition. My “nice” bosses would lay-me-off, so I could get unemployment.

I was not happy with this treatment, but I didn’t begrudge them. This was business. Even the last job I had in a hospital, through Community Action for senior citizens, I knew why the supervisor wouldn’t allow any “real” training for me. “This was NOT a training hospital,” so I had heard her say. I guess she never heard about the Ohio State University Hospital. They were proud of that description.

Well, all the other employees were constantly going through “additional training.” I hadn’t had education in “medical coding,” but I did have a couple of years of liberal arts education at OSU. Didn’t graduate, but I was trainable (my time with photography). When I left the university, I had a 4.0 GPA. I believed she didn’t like that I attended a liberal arts university. Perhaps, she didn’t. I had had enough of her attitude, so I decided to really become “retired.” I left that position. That supervisor, I begrudged.

At this age, I was 62. Tired of banging my head against all the preverbal walls for employment, I went back on Disability and decided to try my hand at writing.

I had already gotten my Blog going and had written a few stories. I really enjoyed this. However, a novel had rattled around my brain ever since I was in the hospital’s rehab when I had the stroke. Something took place in my hospital room that gave me the idea for the novel. A nurse and a patient came into my room one night. I woke up and asked them why they were in my room. They left. Hmmm … I thought to myself. This could be a story.

I began to write my novel in 2006. Once I decided to be retired – stopped trying to be employed -- I worked daily on the manuscript. It is NOT the Great American Novel, but is the novel I felt compelled to write. My dear photo mentor had given me the idea to write about my stroke’s story while I was in the hospital, but when I tried to write the non-fiction version, it bored me! I felt the need to make it juicy, which I did. Therefore, it is a work of fiction.

Of course, writing a full-length novel is much different from writing a two to three page short-story for the Blog. The story entails true accounts of medical situations for me. So, there is some reality.

Mostly the novel is a suspense/thriller, with a touch of romance. Not all, but many stories need a hint of romance … and some humor. I kept it as much PG-13 as I could, with a bit sex.

 My heroine is Liz Jacoby (me), a stroke survivor rehabbing in the hospital’s Rehab Center. Of course, I have written her differently from how I actually was in the beginning of my hospital stay. My antagonist is Pete Young, The Spider. He’s a small man, a jerk of guy, who is in the rehab from an accidental, self-inflicted gunshot wound. He refers to Liz as “not all there” because of the stroke. Pete was supposed to kill a man, but he was shot by his target, instead. He and Luke, his boss, pick my room to “talk” about why Pete was in the hospital (see the thread?).

 If you read my book’s description and/or the first chapter, you might be surprised how a still stroked mind thinks/writes. Hence, the old saying, “Different strokes for different folks.”

I have been lucky here in New Hampshire. My live-in boyfriend, soon to be husband, has been my steadfast fan of my writing. He reads everything I write. Within the last year, I became involved with the Gilman Library Writer’s Group in Alton, NH (where I live). A small group, but should increase soon.

The Group’s monitor has been very encouraging for my novel! She has offered her “grains of salt” to add to or change the manuscript to make it better. Plus, one of the Library’s following authors, Anura Gurugé, who lives in Alton, has guided me to publish the manuscript, once I felt it was worthy.

On June 4, 2015, the Gilman Library had a program on “How to Self-publish You Book,” given by Anura. He chose my novel to show how it is done and how easy it is to do. I became a published author on Amazon! It is a full-length novel, an eBook for Kindles. I’ve been on cloud 9 since June 4^th!

Without the ability to do things physically, I retrained my brain to continue to think, to mentally create, to write. It is believed, by me and others, I have accomplished this.

“What do I want to be when I grow up?” Right now, an author sounds very good.

 

“The Spider Sat Beside Her”

A Novel

by B.D. Adams --- on Amazon

 

 

Dear Reader,

Please buy the eBook (99cents) to show Amazon that I have people who will buy my work. If you read what you buy, you will be entertained.