Have You Been Clickjacked?

March 24, 2013 — Pat Bertram

phoneThe advent of the internet brought along with it a host of new terms that are basically unnecessary since to a great extent they are crimes or are cons that lead to a crime. For example, “social engineering” is a way of manipulating to people to divulge personal information, often in order to hack into their various accounts, both online accounts and bank accounts. Calling this con “social engineering” in no way lessens the crime. People have done time for such crimes.

Another term that seems to have become prevalent recently is “swatting.” A person calls 911 and “social engineers” the dispatcher into sending emergency personnel to an address, sometimes as a prank, more often as revenge to discredit an individual. Sometimes they use cyber skills such as “caller ID spoofing,” causing a different number to show up on caller ID. The goal of such calls is to get a whole SWAT team to descend on the unsuspecting household, hence the term “swatting.”

Not quite as serious, except to the person it happens to is “clickjacking,” which is when someone (or some computer robot) tries to get you to click on a link and divulge personal information. If you’re on Twitter of Facebook, you see such things all the time. “Did you see this picture of you lol,” is one I get freqently. Since hardly anyone ever takes my photo, and if they do, they either send it to me or post it on facebook, I know the link is a scam. And even if I didn’t know, I’m leery enough never to sign in to unfamiliar sites with my twitter or facebook passwords. I like to keep everything separate, though perhaps that is old-fashioned of me. (How strange to use the word “old fashioned” about something that is new within my life time.)

The point of this article is to be careful, of course. But mostly it’s a rebellion against the silly words that mask the simple truth. All of these actions — social engineering, swatting, clickjacking, caller ID spoofing, along with the dozens of terms not mentioned here — constitute fraud.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” All Bertram’s books are published by Second Wind Publishing. Connect with Pat on Google+

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I stand united against rape because . . .

March 23, 2013 — Pat Bertram

I received an interesting request from a Facebook friend yesterday. This woman has been very supportive during my time of grief, helping me to believe that life will become new again. Because of this, she’s become not yet an offline friend, but more than most of my faceless Facebook friends, so I would have been inclined to grant her any favor.

As it turns out, responding to her request was easy and hard at the same time.

She wrote:

I am now the National Director of Public Relations for UniteWomen.org, a non-partisan women’s rights organization with a social media reach of over twenty million people around the world, and we are about to embark upon our “Unite Against Rape” campaign, which will involve posting an array of memes with short quotes taking a stand against rape. Some of these quotes will be from celebrities, and some will be from everyday men and women. We are hoping to get as much “star power” as we can at the kick-off of the campaign, and I thought of you and your books and I thought maybe we could use you in the campaign as a novelist. I am hoping you might like to participate by completing the statement “I stand united against rape because…” for an Internet meme.

Your quote would only need to be a sentence or two, and we would be incorporating it into a graphic that includes a photo of you (high resolution and from the waist up).

It is time to change the collective mentality and show that we are united against rape, and that we will stand up and speak out about it. If you would be willing to lend your name and likeness to UniteWomen.org’s “Unite Against Rape” campaign, I think it would be good for our campaign and give you some additional exposure for your blog.

Of course I said yes, that was the easy part. The hard part was the “because.” I stand united against rape because . . .

It is so self-evident that rape is wrong that I simply could not come up with a response. I thought of mentioning that rape is illegal, morally wrong, demeans all of us, steals our humanity. I thought of saying that such a barbaric custom has no place in the twenty-first century, but all of that is obvious. I mean, really — who is for rape? I bet even rapists would come out against rape since they probably don’t see what they do as rape.

In the end, all I said was, “I stand united against rape because rape is wrong. It’s as simple as that.”

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” All Bertram’s books are published by Second Wind Publishing. Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in culture, internet, life, relationships. Tags: , , . 8 Comments »

Pat Bertram “Appreciation Weekend” Extravaganza

March 22, 2013 — Pat Bertram

I received a most wonderful packet in the mail today from my sister. She is very appreciative of all that I do for our father, and to show that appreciation, she is treating me to a gala weekend in Seattle. Chateau W is, of course, her lovely art-filled home, the only place I’ve ever been that makes me realize how wonderful a house really can be.  And the chef? Her husband, a professional chef. A lovely home and a chef husband. She knows how to live! And she knows how to appreciate. Here is the itinerary she sent me in that packet.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Pat Bertram
“Appreciation Weekend” Extravaganza
Seattle, Washington
March 29 – 31, 2013

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

champagne

Friday, March 29, 2013

~Travel: Alaska Airlines, Arrives Seattle WA 1:22PM

~Arrival: Curbside pick-up at Sea-Tac International Airport 1:30 PM

~Accommodations: Two nights lodging at Château W, featuring private Bed & Breakfast suite and 24/7 on-call Personal Chef Services

chateau

*

Saturday, March 30, 2013

1:00 PM          Limousine service arrives at Château W for transport to Seattle Center

limousine

1:30 PM          Arrival at McCaw Hall, Seattle Center

2:00 PM          Shen Yun performance begins

…Bringing to life 5,000 years of Chinese civilization through classical Chinese dance and music in an exhilarating show you will never forget.

SY

shenyun

5:00 PM          Limousine arrives at McCaw Hall, Seattle Center for transport to Ray’s Boathouse

5:30 PM          Dinner Reservations at Ray’s Boathouse
                           Amazing NW seafood, an award-winning wine list, and spectacular water views!

restaurant

7:30 PM          Limousine arrives at Ray’s Boathouse for transport back to Château W

 *

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Morning:         Breakfast to Order (upon wakening)

Noon:              Chateau W shuttle to SeaTac International Airport

Night:              Alaska Airlines, Leaves Seattle WA 2:50PM

flowers

We are honored to serve as your weekend hosts, and we look forward to seeing you!

___________________________________________________________________________

It should be an incredible adventure. I can hardly wait!

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” All Bertram’s books are published by Second Wind Publishing. Connect with Pat on Google+

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A Thousand Miles From My Cool Green Home

March 20, 2013 — Pat Bertram

Three or four times my life mate and I packed up everything and moved without any idea of where we were going. I remember the looks of non-comprehension mixed with envy I’d get when I’d tell my new acquaintances how we ended up where we did, especially if those people were dreaming of leaving that very place. Perhaps it did seem a bit strange that we were so foolish or so daring to move from a place with no destination in mind and no clear plans of what to do when we arrived, but we always hoped for a better life for us. Those hopes were not fulfilled, at least not in the way we wanted, so it amazes me we took the leap so many times.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget how free I felt when we left a place behind and set out for an unknown future. It felt as if the whole world lay ahead of us, and anything was possible. Once we spent the night in a motel at the truck stop in Nephi, Utah. We had no worries at the moment, nothing to do, nowhere to go, and we talked about how much fun it would be to live there at that truck stop. (Sort of like an upscale version of Bagdad Café, though this was long before the movie was filmed.) Staying wasn’t practical at the time, and so we found a place back in Colorado to settle down for a while. And the web of everyday life began to entrap us once again.

Eventually we stopped taking those trips into the unknown, though we’d still occasionally look for that ideal place. One planned trip took us to eastern New Mexico. We were standing in the middle of a dusty town — no more than a crossroads, really — and he seemed unexpectedly peaceful as he looked around that wide empty space. There were no places to rent, of course, and nothing for sale, and even if we had found a place, the nearest grocery store and library were a long way away, which would have made living there a logistical nightmare, and so we returned home. By then, all the trees and bushes we’d planted had grown up and leafed out. Our place looked cool and green, and the blue Colorado light seemed soothing after the yellowish glare of that little town.

We never moved again. His illness eventually trapped us, and then he was gone.

I am now a thousand miles from that cool green home, and a million miles from him. He no longer has a say in what I do, but still, I wonder what he would think of my plans to live a nomadic life — living nowhere and everywhere. Would he remember the times of freedom when we were temporarily untethered, and be glad for me? Or would he think of my being rootless and alone and be sad for me? I know he’d tell me to be careful, to be smart, to be alert.

I just wish I could hear him give his warnings in person, but then, if he were here to advise me, I wouldn’t need to be considering such an adventure, such a leap into the future.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in being me, culture, life, relationships. Tags: , , , , , . 3 Comments »

A Vehicle to Drive on a Soul’s Journey

March 19, 2013 — Pat Bertram

The first car I fell in love with was a Volkswagen bug, and I have it still. In fact, it’s the only car I ever owned. And I’m the only owner it ever had. Only 21 years younger than me, and the thing still runs!

I am aware, though, that it’s not a good idea to take a car this old on an extended journey into the future (as you can see, it’s being held together with duct tape), so in the belief that by visualizing something, it will help it come true, I thought I’d show you the car would like to get. Although many people have suggested campers, fifth wheels, winnebagos, I wouldn’t get one even if I had the money. This will be a journey of the spirit — a soul trip — and I need to be light and free.soul

So this is what I’d like to get — a Kia Soul. Isn’t that the perfect name for a car to take on a mystical quest? Even better, this is only the only other vehicle besides my beetle that I’ve ever fancied. I thought it would be painful to contemplate getting rid of something who . . . oops, I mean something that has been with me all these years, but after the death of my life mate/soul mate, what’s a car? Simply a ride.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in being me, culture, life. Tags: , , , . 7 Comments »

Taking a Leap Into the Impossible

March 18, 2013 — Pat Bertram

leapOnce you make the mental leap from where you are today to where you want to be, then suddenly, the impossible seems possible.

Several times when things in my life became untenable, I considered getting rid of everything and just living day by day, but there have always been obstacles, some quite out of my control, such as taking care of someone who is ill or dying, and some only in my mind and personality. I’m basically a creature of habit, and when I move somewhere I tend to stay where I end up even if I hate the place. (Staying is not always about habit; sometimes staying is about not being able to find a better place or not being able to face the upheaval, expense, and aggravation of a move if you do find a place.)

Ever since the death of my life mate/soul mate, I’ve been afraid habit will trap me in a life of loneliness and stagnation, and I simply cannot bear for that to be true.

In various blog posts, I’ve tried to figure out what to do next, and I’ve often talked about settling somewhere and then taking trips. But the other day it occurred to me that I don’t have to settle anywhere. I can simply store my stuff and live on the road. (Figuratively speaking, that is. I wouldn’t actually live on the road. That’s a sure way of ending up as road kill.) The beauty of such a plan is that I could stay as long as I want in one place and then move on with relative ease.

At first this idea was just another cerebral meandering, but now it has taken hold. I’ve made the mental leap into such a lifestyle, and suddenly it seems possible.

I’ve been considering the logistics of what I’d need to bring for six months to a year of travel, including emergency supplies and of course boxes of my published books, and I’ve come to see that such a trip is doable. (Financing it might be a problem, but that’s the “wits” part of being a “wanderer, living by wits and whim”.) These past three years of taking care of my father, when most of my stuff has been in storage anyway, has shown me what I use and what I don’t. And I don’t use many things at all.

Moving from place to place could be a mental adjustment, leaving me feeling as if I were dangling in space, unconnected to the world (not an unfamiliar sensation since my mate’s death gave me that same feeling), but this would be one time where habit would be a good thing. I could continue my morning routine of floor exercises and weights, (luckily I’ve just been using dumbbells because carting around my barbells and weight bench would be a bit much), a long walk, and a protein drink for breakfast. This routine would help me feel “normal.” I could also bring a few small items that had no value other than that they would connect me from place to place, such as a photo of my deceased life mate or a silly figurine or my dictionary and thesauruses — something to make the place feel familiar. And then, of course, I’d have my computer. I’ve looked at this same screen for seven years now, and many friends lie beyond the images I see. To a certain extent, my life on the road would be the same as it is now, but there would still be plenty differences to savor.

I don’t know if I would ever be able to make the leap if I were mired somewhere, but in the not too distant future, my life will be turned upside down once more, and I will be forced to make a choice. And I will take the leap.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in culture, life, writing. Tags: , , , , . 12 Comments »

Figuring Out Where to Go From Here

March 16, 2013 — Pat Bertram

Route 66During the past three years, ever since the death of my life mate/soul mate I’ve been trying to figure out where to go from here. Currently I am taking care of my 96-year-old father, but someday this responsibility will come to an end, and I will have to find somewhere to live.

Or do I?

By nature, I am a quasi-hermit who easily settles into routines, and now that I am alone, that very nature could become a problem. Unless I do something to prevent stagnation, years from now I could end up being one of those forgotten old women, living behind closed curtains in a dingy apartment. Doesn’t seem like a healthy way to live, but to be honest, I’m not interested in another long-term committed relationship, either. Still, there is a world of opportunity between those two extremes.

When I met the man I was to spend thirty-four years of my life with, I become the most spontaneous I’d ever been. His being in the world made it seem as if the world were full of possibilities, and I grabbed hold of life with both hands and ran with it. Years later, as he got sicker and life took its toll on our finances, the possibilities shrank. Our lives became staid and minutely planned to take his infirmities into consideration. He told me once he regretted that the constraints of our life destroyed my spontaneity, and he was sorry to be the cause of it.

It’s not something I like to face, but the last years, and especially the last months of his life were terrible for both of us. And, something I like to face even less is that his death set me free. The best way to honor my mate’s life and his great gift of freedom is to take back the thing he thought he stole from me. So, to that end, I’m considering becoming a wanderer, living by wit and whim, at least for a while.

When I mentioned this idea to one of my grief-group friends, she said she’d love to be able to live such a life, and she’d do it in a flash if she had a couple of hundred thousand dollars.

Two hundred thousand dollars? Would it really take so much? I hope not, because I don’t have that kind of money — or any kind at all, to be honest — and unless my books became a belated overnight sensation, I have no way of getting it. On the other hand, if I don’t have rent or a mortgage to deal with, if I don’t have utility bills and other standard expenses every month, if I don’t drive all day using up tankfuls of gas but take short jaunts from place to place, then all I’d have to deal with is motels and food, and I might be able to swing that for a few months. I might even be able to find ways of extending the wandering, such as staying with friends and relatives for a few days, or perhaps even try some sort of crowd-funding such as Kickstarter.

Although I would be living by whim, the wandering life, for however long it lasted, wouldn’t be entirely pointless. I could visit bookstores and try to get them interested in my books. I could chronicle the journey, taking pictures of the places I visited, interviewing people, noting differences from place to place (if there are any. For all I know, one place could look the same as any other with a McDonald’s, Dairy Queen or Sonic, and Walmart wherever I went). I could even end up with a new book!

At the very least, I might be able to figure out where to go from here.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in being me, culture, life. Tags: , , , , , , . 14 Comments »

Finding My Place in the Publishing World

March 15, 2013 — Pat Bertram

UntitledpI’ve been reading promotional materials (again!) looking for ways to increase book sales, and one of the articles, in a rehash of the idea of positive thinking, said that if you’re not satisfied with the way your writing career is going, don’t ever let it be known but speak and act as if you were a bestselling author.

In other words, don’t ever let people know the truth, and that goes against the spirit of this blog. I suppose it isn’t smart of me to talk about my struggles to find my place in the publishing world because it probably does show me in a negative light. In fact, one friend emailed me and said, “If you want to stop writing and pity yourself because you think you are a failed author, go ahead. That’s your choice.”

Regardless of how I come across, I am not negative or pessimistic. I have every intention of making my living as a writer, and if I thought claiming I were a bestselling author would get me there, I’d do it. Or maybe not. There are so many authors out there claiming to be more than they are that the world doesn’t need another one.

Despite the contention of my friend, I do not consider myself a failed author. In fact, I am a successful author. I’ve written five books that I’m proud of and that many people love. I just haven’t been able to turn them into financial successes yet.

I see myself on a writer’s journey, though I admit I’m going through a crisis of faith, struggling to find reasons to write. (I’m also struggling to find reasons to live, but that doesn’t make me a failed human being.) For some writers, writing is their reason for living, but although that isn’t my reason for living (I am not compelled to write; it’s something I choose to do), I have a hunch that my reason for living is tied up somehow with my reason for writing. (Writing fiction, that is. I do write every day for this blog, partly for the discipline of it and partly to help me figure out my place in the world, the world of grief, and the publishing world.)

I began writing fiction more than a decade ago as a means of bringing my dying life mate/soul mate in close. Someone who is dying drifts away until finally he begins to disconnect himself totally from life, and I couldn’t bear to let the disconnect from me happen sooner than it needed to. For several years, until he drifted too far away, I wrote at night, then read the passages to him in the morning, and he’d let me know if I nailed the scene, usually with a small, impish smile. If I didn’t get a passage quite right, I didn’t get a smile, but I got help figuring out where I went wrong.

That’s why I used to write — to see his smile. And that’s why writing has become such an angst-ridden subject for me. My reason for writing died when he did.

A friend (the same friend mentioned above now that I think of it) once sent me a snippet of a poem:

A voice calls, “Write, write!”
I say, “For whom shall I write.”
And the voice replies,
“For the dead whom thou didst love.”

—John Berryman

Maybe someday writing for the dead whom I didst love will be reason enough to write, but for now, I’m still searching for my place in the world and the publishing world. And if the search — or my angst — comes across as negative, so be it. Besides, when I start acting as if I am a bestselling writer, I want it to be for real.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in blogging, culture, life, writing. Tags: , , , , , , . 14 Comments »

Grief and Lingering Feelings of Resentment

March 14, 2013 — Pat Bertram

Desert CactusDuring the past three years, I have chronicled my journey through grief, trying to make sense of the myriad emotional and physical stresses one has to deal with after a major loss, such as the death of one’s child or life mate/soul mate. I’ve explained that grief is not the simple and almost clinical state that Kübler-Ross’s five (or seven) stages of grief seems to indicate. Instead, there seems to be an infinite shading of emotion in the process we call grief.

Some of us do feel shock, denial, anger, guilt, sadness, depression, and acceptance, but most of us also feel anxiety, frustration, loneliness, confusion, despair, helplessness, panic, questioning (both as a need to know why and as a cry of pain), loss or gain of faith, loss of identity, loss of self-esteem, resentment, bitterness, isolation, inability to focus, suspended animation, waiting for we know not what, envy of those who are still coupled or who have yet to suffer a loss. And we suffer myriad physical symptoms such as queasiness, dizziness, sleep problems (too much or too little), eating problems (too much or too little), bone-deep pain, inability at times to breath or swallow, exhaustion, lack of energy, restlessness, and seemingly endless bouts of tears.

Except for sadness, I thought I’d pretty much dealt with most of grief’s effects, but recently I’ve become aware of lingering feelings of resentment. I’m mostly over the resentment of those who are still coupled, with only an occasional twinge of self-pity when I see couples out walking together, and I thought I’d come to terms with my resentment of his long illness and his leaving me here to deal with grief alone, but apparently a pool of resentment still lies deep within.

I am thin-skinned, taking offense at things that were not meant to be offensive, feeling hard done by when things do not turn out my way, railing against real or imagined unfairness. Of course, we all feel this way at times, but grief seems to take minor faults and magnifies them into major stumbling blocks. The death of the one person who connected us to life also makes us (well, me anyway) feel as if life should be granting us special privileges to make up for that great loss, but life doesn’t work that way.

I’m not proud of this resentment, but there it is. The good thing is that grief’s effects are now mostly making themselves known one at a time rather than all at once in a horrifying and cloudy kaleidoscope of feelings so that I can pay attention to the resentment, and perhaps get beyond this stage to a more even-tempered state.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in blogging, culture, grief, life. Tags: , , , , , . 2 Comments »

Can You Change Your Luck?

March 13, 2013 — Pat Bertram

black catWhile researching What is Luck, yesterday’s blog post about the meaning of luck and how it plays a part in the book business, I found a fascinating study about the difference between lucky people and unlucky people.

Psychologist Richard Wiseman makes a distinction between chance and luck. He believes that chance events are those we have no control over, like winning the lottery, but that luck is a matter of outlook. He says that unlucky people are those who are so focused on their goal that they don’t notice the unexpected. His research reveals that ‘lucky people generate good fortune via four basic principles. They are skilled at creating and noticing chance opportunities, make lucky decisions by listening to their intuition, create self-fulfilling prophesies via positive expectations, and adopt a resilient attitude that transforms bad luck into good.” Lucky people are also serendipitous — they often find something more fortuitous than what they were looking for simply by being observant.

Wiseman believes that unlucky people can become lucky by following a three simple techniques:

1) Pay attention to your intuition and feelings when making decisions. Don’t rely solely on the rational side of the situation.

2) Don’t be a slave to routine. Doing things differently from the way you normally do boosts the likelihood of luck by introducing variety.

3) See the positive side of your ill fortune.

The luckiest man I know never sees ill fortune or failure. He manages to rearrange events in his mind so that he always comes out a winner. For example, when one venture didn’t pan out and he lost money, he finagled his finances in his head (nothing illegal, just a matter of perception) so that the loss was filed under a different category in his mind. I never understood that — if you lost money, you lost it regardless of how you filed the information away, but it helped him maintain the belief in his luck.

His luck wasn’t merely a matter of perception, but of the way things were. He was the captain of a boat in the Navy during WWII, and after he was transferred off, the boat was sunk, and most hands were lost. He found a hobby buying stamp collections, breaking them apart and selling the individual items right at the moment that stamps were becoming a popular investment. Concurrently, he also happened to be working for an airline, which allowed him to travel at little cost to wherever his hobby took him. Years later, to get a stamp collection he wanted, he had to buy a collection of autographs. By then, stamps were declining in value, but at that very moment, autographs were becoming the investment of choice. A lot of luck going on there!

He always believed that things would turn out for the best, and even when “the best” wasn’t very good, he believed that things had, in fact, turned out for the best, that things could have been worse.

Me? I don’t consider myself either lucky or unlucky, though I have had stretches of bad luck — failures that seemed completely beyond my control, successes that seemed just out of reach. Maybe I’d be luckier if I believed things always worked out for the best, or if I could see the good side of bad things, but sometimes such determinations are beyond me. Sometimes it’s important to see that bad happened just because it happened, such as the death of my life mate/soul mate. There is no way I will ever believe it was best that he got sick, suffered excruciating pain, and died. In a way, there is a good side to his death. He is no longer suffering and I have been freed from an untenable situation, but I cannot dismiss his death so lightly.

Grief tends to close us off from the world, and if ever I am able to find happiness in the future, I will have to open myself up again. I am trying to be more spontaneous, to be open to possibilities even if they seem foolish or uncomfortable, to say yes when my inclination or habit is to say no. Mostly I’m looking for serendipity (though I’m sure that’s an oxymoron because serendipity is what you find when you are looking for something else). Since I don’t really know what I want or what will make me happy (other than making a living as a writer), I have to be open to whatever comes my way. Standing tall. Breathing deep. Stretching.

Although I’m making these changes in an effort to change my life, who knows, maybe they will also change my luck.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

Posted in being me, culture, life. Tags: , , , , , , . 3 Comments »
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