Connie Dwyer Breast Center Spring Luncheon

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I was so honored to meet the inspiring Connie Dwyer at the Connie Dwyer Breast Center Annual Spring Luncheon where I was invited to speak about the writing and publishing of The Memory Box and the topics of the day: Perseverance, Gratitude and Women Empowering Women.

The Connie Dwyer Breast Center is a comprehensive, state-of-the-art facility providing expert diagnosis and treatment of breast disease and the finest breast cancer prevention, early detection, and educational outreach programs to women in Newark and the surrounding areas regardless of their ability to pay. Just last year, over 20,000 women sought out the services of the center. Thanks to the vision and generosity of Connie Dwyer, all of this is possible.

More here: http://hipnewjersey.com/the-connie-dwyer-breast-center-annual-spring-luncheon/

 

Rate Yourself As A Mom On A Scale of 1 To 10

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photo by Alio Viera

The other night at dinner, I sat at the kitchen table with my teenage daughter. Some nights, “family dinner” means just us two. I’ve been getting used to making dinners that are easy to scoop out and reheat in a flash. Teenagers are here one minute, gone the next. And I’m just referring to the dinner hour.

My daughter has always loved to ask the hypothetical questions. The “what-ifs” and the “what would you dos.” And as philosophical as they may be, she likes her hypotheticals quantifiable. She likes answers that are in percentages, or on her famous “scale of 1 to 10.”

Between forkfuls of asparagus risotto, she asked, “What if someone asked you to rate yourself as a mother? What would you say, on a scale of 1 to 10?” read more

 

Rankings, Reviews and Rewards, oh my

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What a week it’s been for THE MEMORY BOX. To my astonishment and squealing delight, it achieved the ranking of #1 on Amazon Kindle for American Literature! That lasted a few days which provided enough time for me to bask in the sunshine of this incredible honor. Also, at different times this week, it ranked #1 in Psychological Thrillers and Contemporary Women’s Fiction. This, of course, means that THE MEMORY BOX found lots of new readers this week and many have already left their thoughts on Amazon. If you are one of those people, thank you so very much for taking the time to do so. All of them are very important to me. A few from the last couple of days:

“Holy Moly.”

“This book made me paranoid to ever Google myself again.”

“My heart was pounding through the entire book.”

“An ending that will shock you.”

And my personal favorite:

“This book makes you wonder if the author is as crazy as the character in the story.” 

I think I will tackle that in a future blog post!

What more could an author ask for? I was pretty much hyperventilating the entire week. But it was yesterday’s browsing on Amazon which yielded one of the best thrills of the last seven days. On Amazon, there seems to be a ranking for just about everything, so maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that there’s a list titled: Most Popular Authors in Literary Fiction. It was, however, not only surprising that I should find myself on that list, but extraordinary that I ranked #15 right under Harper Lee and Gillian Flynn! Thank goodness I had the presence of mind to screen shot it!

Hopefully this hangover will last a while. I know how fortunate it is to have had a week like this. It’s a wonderful affirmation of the rewards that a combination of hard work, diligence, and determination, bring. (And maybe, just a little bit of crazy . . . )

 

A Nightmare Author Reading Saved by Rachael Ray

Last night I had a nightmare that I was at the Cornelia Street Café to do a reading from my novel. I stood at the microphone on the small stage in front of a packed house. I had just been introduced to the audience, and in the wane of the applause I was horrified to discover I had forgotten to bring my book. In a panic, I rummaged through my handbag in front of everyone. No book. In fact, my bag was virtually empty. How could I leave my house with an empty handbag? Terror mounted as the patrons settled into an attentive quiet. All eyes were on me. Sweat began to spew from my every pore. The reading was to last twenty minutes; what was I to do? I took one last futile look into my handbag and found one single sheet of paper. continue reading

 

From the real reading:

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