The good news:
click here for a list of over twenty-five titles seeking YOUR stories.
If your story is accepted, you will receive ten copies of the book, and a publication credit. The publisher is a former Chicken Soup editor.
You can write with a saucy, PG 13 rated "voice", and I know a lot of you sassy pants out there can do this. I have already sent one off.
The bad news:
No monetary compensation. But just think of how fast you could rack up publishing credits. If this sounds like a fair trade off, check out the NOT YOUR MOTHER'S... call outs on the upper right hand menu of their page.
I personally think writers undervalue themselves when they work for peanuts all of the time. Your hairdresser, plumber etc. wouldn't do their jobs for a write up, so you decide. On the other hand, the ten books are yours to sell, so technically...
My husband finally decided last week that hearing aids were in order. He's had them adjusted twice. Yesterday he shouted into the bathroom as I was taking a shower,"You won't believe this, I'm picking up Morse Code in these things, dot-dot-dot dashhh. I have to get these things adjusted again!"
When I shower, I listen to the police scanner which we bought years ago during a tornado season. As nosy as I am, you'd think I'd have it on 24/7, but I listen to it for background noise only when I shower.
Sometimes when a call is being dispatched it is preceeded by a series of high pitched bleep-bleep-bleep-blipppppps which Bill intercepted loud and clear.
I laughed until my sides hurt.
The good news about his hearing aids: he can hear the slightest whisper. I no longer complain about the blaring TV, and I do not have to repeat myself and use exaggerated gestures anymore. They require batteries. So naturally, I messed with him when he said he heard the tiny indicator beep. I started mouthing what I was saying to him. "They went completely dead! I can't hear one word you're saying, speak up.
Oh you little..."
The bad news about his hearing aids: he can now hear my slightest whisper, "He makes me crazy leaving this mess!" He looked at me and said, "You do realize that I can hear everything you're saying now, right?" My tongue is sore from biting it.
The TV is so low, I can't hear it well, and if I turn it up, HE says it's too loud.
We are making adjustments, in fact he's going today for further tweaking.
Good for hubby to admit his need. I have a friend who won't admit he can't hear...puts a strain on others.
Very funny post. Reminds me a lot of my Dad :)
A police scanner in the bathroom? You wild woman, you.
Love the mini essay about your hubby's hearing aid. We are getting close to that point with my hubby.
And thanks for the submission links.
I'm with Donna....a police scanner while you shower??!! I couldn't listen to anything...that's where I get some of my best ideas!
And hearing aids...oh yeah...The Ronald definitely needs his hearing checked. Talk about a blaring TV!! He's driving me crazy!!
I'll check out the link, too. Thanks!
Thanks for the link, will check it out. Glad you are getting things balanced out with the hearing aid. :)
You make me laugh ; )
By the way, I am having the same trouble that I believe you had...my name on others' blogs directs traffic to my profile, not my blog home page. Heard you fixed yours...can you help?
Thanks for the link. I think I can make good use of it.
If I could get my husband to wear a hearing aid, would it put an end to his selective hearing?
Hope the police scanner/shower connection doesn't have anything to do with your basement shower crime of turning the water on full blast.
Thanks for the link. And thanks for the chuckle. You are as much of a SD as I am...
That police scanner in the shower explains a lot, Linda. ;-)
The Beneficent Mr. Hall was a DJ long, long ago (in a radio station far away). He refuses to believe he has a hearing "situation." I mess with him all the time. Of course, he can't tell 'cause he can't hear me. Pfffftt. :-)
Papa has hearing aids, but he still has trouble hearing which, at 87, isn't surprising. We always joke that we're in the same book but on different pages.
When I don't want him to hear what I mutter, he does. When I want him to take out the trash, he doesn't. I've always said Hubby hears what he wants to hear.
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