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Vote For Your Favorite April “My Gutsy Story®”

May 1, 2014 by Sonia Marsh Leave a Comment

 

VOTE BE GUTSY BADGE

 

 

Get ready to VOTE for your favorite one of 4 “My Gutsy Story®” submissions. You have from now until  May 14th to vote on the sidebar, (only one vote per person) and the winner will be announced on May 15th (from Spain!) and will select a prize from our generous sponsors.

Our 1st “My Gutsy Story®” is by Kathy Gamble.

SONIA SAYS: Kathy makes us feel what it’s like to live the expat life and try to adapt to the people and customs in each country.

 

Kathy Gamble
Kathy Gamble

 

Our 2nd “My Gutsy Story®” is by Benny Wasserman

BennyWasserman
BennyWasserman

SONIA MARSH SAYS: Benny’s story makes us realize the impact that one person can have on our life.

 

Our 3rd “My Gutsy Story®” is by Alana Woods

Alana Woods
Alana Woods

SONIA MARSH SAYS: After reading Alana’s story,  I feel like I’ve exercised enough for the year, thanks to you for taking me on this amazing trek across the UK. 

 

Our 4th  “My Gutsy Story®” is by Ginger Simpson

Ginger
Ginger Simpson

SONIA MARSH SAYS: Ginger asks her alcoholic first husband the question “I continually asked him if I was the reason he turned to alcohol.” So often we blame ourselves for others’ behavior.

 

 

MGS FINAL COVER Small
Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

VOTING for your favorite April 2014 “My Gutsy Story®,” starts on  May 1st, and ends on May 14th. The WINNER will be announced on May 15th.

 

PLEASE VOTE AND SHARE THESE STORIES USING THE LINKS BELOW.

Had I caused him to turn to drink?

April 28, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 31 Comments

Ginger

No Genie in The Bottle

“My Gutsy Story®”-Ginger Simpson

 

I married my high school sweetheart and expected to spend eternity together. He worked as a police sergeant, and I spent my days as an Academic Counselor. Like most couples, I thought we had a perfect marriage–the average American family, two kids, two cars, two careers. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. One of our sons was grown and married, and the other just graduated high school. And then after thirty-two years, the proverbial crap hit the fan. I’m not sure how, or more importantly, why, but my husband found something he loved more than me, Jack Daniels.

Photo on 4-19-14 at 12.48 PM-1

At first the occasional drink didn’t concern me, but when his JD over ice became a nighttime ritual, I decided it was time for a talk. I told him I didn’t understand how a non-drinker suddenly became one who imbibed regularly. I tried to make him see how insecure his drinking made me feel. I offered to go for counseling but he insisted everything was fine. Of course, I continually asked him if I was the reason he turned to alcohol, but his answer was always ‘no’–he was completely happy and only drank to take the edge off his day. He promised to stop, but what he actually meant was he wouldn’t leave the booze where I could find it. Yet, every cabinet I opened had a bottle inside (some filled, some half empty), even the peg boards in the garage had JD hidden behind them, yet he insisted he didn’t have a problem.

Even when forced by his supervisor to go for rehab, he lied and told me he’d volunteered to go for us, but I later discovered the program wasn’t his choice. He either went or was forced into retirement. So, yet another lie to placate me.

Wanting someone to change isn’t enough. They have to WANT the change, and he obviously didn’t. I don’t think he believed I was strong enough to honor my threats of leaving. His ten-day rehab proved a waste of time that didn’t kill his desire to drink but made him a tearful drunk. He obviously got in touch with his emotions but only exposed them when he drank to excess.

At a time when I was looking forward to midlife security and being proud of our achievements as a couple, I had to decide if living in continued fear of what I’d find when I walked inside the front door was worth it. I’d already found him passed out, with a cigarette smoldering in the carpet and the house in disarray more times than I could count. Our youngest son had long ago stopped asking his friends over because his dad didn’t grasp the concept we all shared the same home. Our feelings ceased to matter.

The day I came home and found my husband…this man I had loved for so many years, passed out, naked, and soaked in urine, his usual cigarette burning yet another hole in the carpet we couldn’t afford to replace, was the day I decided to make the change. I couldn’t stand one more minute questioning my own integrity. Had I caused him to turn to drink? I went to an Al-Anon meeting and listened to stories like mine, but no one there had solutions. Others continued to live in the same hell, day after day, but I knew I couldn’t. Choices are pretty limited when you’re faced with a difficult one. If someone refuses to change, your only option is to remove yourself from the situation. I’d moved right from my parent’s house to a duplex I shared with my new husband, so I’d never lived alone. Could I find the inner strength I needed?

Starting over at forty-nine wasn’t an easy decision. Somehow, I mustered my determination, packed some clothes and walked out, leaving him with the house I once loved, and everything except the few things I needed. Luckily, I had shared my story with a co-worker who gave me a key to her house and told me she had an extra room. I took her up on the offer. Living in one bedroom, surrounded by nothing that belonged to me was hell. I don’t know which was worse–my living arrangements or still trying to work things out in my head.

I’d tried to make my husband understand that love is comprised of trust and respect, and every time he lied or I saw him in a repulsive state, the loss of trust and respect chipped away at that emotion. I’d often wondered about the saying “I love him but I’m not ‘in love’ with him,” because it didn’t make sense to me. Suddenly, I knew what those words meant, but not out of want.

God granted me sisters for moral support, and one, gratefully, for financial. With her help, I was able to get into my own apartment for the first time in my life and see what being independent was truly like.

Once our house sold, my husband relocated to the apartments next door to mine. I tried several times to tell him I was moving on without him, but he apparently didn’t believe me–or didn’t want to. In desperation, I put my feelings in writing, and explained I couldn’t help him heal. In my written plea, I also told him I wished him well, would always care for him, but in order to open new doors, I had to close the old ones. That was my determining moment–picturing him standing on the other side while I moved blindly into a new life, not knowing what to expect. That decision was the most frightful I’ve ever made. Sometimes, the unions we think are the best are missing elements we don’t realize until we seize the moment and make a change. It was the most difficult, gusty move I’ve ever made, but it worked out for the best.

Ginger and her second husband
Ginger and her second husband

GINGER SIMPSON BIO:

In 2002, Ginger Simpson decided to attempt writing her own novel, and in 2003 her first offering, Prairie Peace, was published. Since then, she’s dabbled in other genres but always seems to migrate back to her favorite historical era. As all authors continue to learn through the process, so has Ginger, and her debut novel has been recently released with a new cover and title, Destiny’s Bride. Although her biggest dream has been saying ‘yes’ when someone asked if her book was at Walmart, she’s happy with the progress of ebooks, but after repeated questions, she recently tucked one of her books into her coat and smuggled it into Walmart just so she could take a photo of it on their best-selling shelf.  She never said it had to stay for long. http://www.gingersimpson.com

Please join her on Twitter @mizging

Facebook

Ginger has several books on Amazon. Check out her Author Page.

SONIA MARSH SAYS: The phrase that struck me in your inspiring story is:

“Wanting someone to change isn’t enough. They have to WANT the change.”

This applies to everything in life, and I am also sad to see how women so often “blame” themselves when something is not right.

“I continually asked him if I was the reason he turned to alcohol.”

Thanks for sharing your “My Gutsy Story®” story and the fact that you left, and started a new life after 30-some years will help other women in the same situation

 

MGS FINAL COVER Small
Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Please leave your comments for Ginger. She’ll be over to respond.

  1.  Also, please check our next “Gutsy Google Hangout” and interview with Kathy Pooler, on May 1st at 9 a.m., PST. “What You Really Need to Know About Writing a Book in 2014.” Sign-up here.
  2. Sign-up for our next Workshop on May 4th, from 2-4 p.m. at “Total Wine” in Laguna Hills. “How to Market Your Books Creatively and Get Results.”
  3. Next “Gutsy Webinar” on May 30th at 9 a.m. PST “Everything You Need to Know About Formatting e-books and Why Metadata is Important.” Jason Matthews, expert on e-books will be presenting with me. Reserve your seat TODAY.

Our 200-Mile Trek Across the UK

April 21, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 9 Comments

Alana Woods author pic

 Trekking across the UK

“My Gutsy Story®”-Alana Woods

 

In April 2013 I was in the UK helping my oldest daughter cope with three children under 7: two boys, 6 and 2, and a new baby girl. After the birth I stayed on because daughter and her man were getting married on 1 August in Italy and daughter had asked me to stay handy.

End of June saw my husband John touching down at Gatwick and after a week of the boys and him getting re-acquainted we took off to do a few weeks travelling. No point getting under the son-in-law’s feet.

We spent a week touring Ireland visiting John’s ancestral roots and then headed back to the UK to undertake a walk we hadn’t long known about. The famous Alfred Wainwright’s Coast to Coast walk. John had seen it on TV in Australia before flying over. You cross the UK from the Irish Sea to the North Sea, starting at a little village called St Bees and finishing at Robin Hood’s Bay.

The 200+ mile walk takes you through the Lake District, over the Pennines and across the Yorkshire Moors just a little way down from the Scottish border.

We knew it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. We’d booked through a company called Mac’s Adventures and their website lists it as 4 out 5 in difficulty. But we figured We’re Aussies, we can do it.

And we were right, we made it, no disasters. But, and it’s a big but, it was a real test of stamina. And that’s taking into account the best weather the country had seen for years. That meant no armpit-deep bogs to sink into—only ankle deep—no soaking wet clothes to peel ourselves out of every evening, and no howling gales to pitch ourselves against.

And thank goodness for that, because just walking those distances—up to 16 miles a day—up and down mountains was shattering enough.

Tradition is that you take a pebble from the beach at St Bees and dip your boots into the Irish Sea. Then at the end you drop the pebble and dip your boots in the North Sea.

Start at St Bees copy
Start at St Bees

Second day in we were in the Lake District and despite what I’ve said above the weather was horrible. The guidebook advised against tackling peaks in bad weather so we took the low route. But at Loft Beck there’s no escaping a stiff climb from one valley to another—in icy sheeting rain, with gusting howling winds. About half way up I had to give myself a stern talking to. I was darned if I was going to be the one they had to send in the rescue helicopter for that day.

The second day in and the weather is foul,

we’re scaling Loft Beck and the wind it does howl,

what I would give

to be sure I will live,

is everything I’m carrying to survive.

 

The rain stings with little bullets of ice

that hit my exposed bits like pellets of rice,

it cascades down the rocks

soaking my socks,

I have doubts I will ever revive.

 

The wind roars and blows,

I can’t stem the flow from my nose,

snot flies to every point in the land

because I daren’t spare a hand.

All I want is to safely arrive.

We had two truly shattering days in the walk. The first was the last day in the Lake District, the 16 mile Patterdale to Shap leg, with no tea houses, pubs, shops or anything else to ease the pain. My God! There’s the last peak, Kidsty Pike, then there’s traversing Haweswater reservoir which the guidebook describes as “Soon you’re panting like a hippo on a treadmill” at the end of which you leave the Lakes national park and start picking up a few C2C signs. By then, if I’d had the breath to say it, I would have been calling “My kingdom for a tea house!” We were total ruins by the time we reached that night’s accommodation, much too tired to eat.

The Pennines and moors gave great expansive views and lots of boggy ground to skirt. An unexpected sight were the Nine Standards, ancient sentinels against no-one knows who or what. I imagine one day they’ll be cordoned off like Stonehenge but for now we cheerfully sat on them while taking a lunch break.

The Nine Standards
The Nine Standards

 

Alana resting at Nine Standards
Alana resting at Nine Standards

 

By the time we arrived at Ravenseat Farm, several hours on from the Standards, we were gasping for the tea and scones the farmer’s wife, Amanda, is famous for. We weren’t sure she’d be open because she’d given birth to her 8th baby less than a week before. But she was! Serving everyone herself. Now there’s a gutsy story for you! I loved the ‘Warning. Free range children’ sign at the gate.

 

Ravenseat Farm

 

Welcome tea and scones
Welcome tea and scones

The Yorkshire Moors were a delight. Comparatively easy up-and-down-dale walking with long stretches of rolling tweed colours. We were a couple of weeks early for the moors in all their purple heather glory and I was sad about that. It would have been a memory to keep forever.

Tweed coloured moors
Tweed coloured moors
Purple heather
Purple heather

For all its fame the Coast to Coast isn’t an official walk so there are no signposts in the national parks, and they make up quite a percentage of the distance. In the Lake District successive walkers have built stone cairns to indicate the path but it’s not foolproof. We wandered off non-existent paths numerous times, sometimes following other walkers who were going somewhere entirely different!

The last day was the second of our shattering walks. The North Sea came into view miles before we hit the coast and the first town of any size we spied was Whitby with its abbey ruins standing proud and alone on the cliff. But there was still a hell of a way to go and by the time we saw Robin Hood’s Bay we were almost too tired to make the steep descent to the sea where we found the tide out and had to walk half way to France to reach it!

Whitby and the North Sea
Whitby and the North Sea
Robin Hood's Bay
Robin Hood’s Bay
John dropping pebble
John dropping pebble

 

Alana dropping pebble
Alana dropping pebble

 

Would we do it again? Not on your Nellie! Got nothing to prove by repeating it.

But it has given us a taste for more walking. I think that’s pretty gutsy of us.

 

ALANA WOODS … intrigue queen. As a novelist, that’s me. I toyed with ‘thriller queen’ as an author description but my novels are much more suspense intrigue.

I’m a storyteller from way back but not a prolific producer. It can take me years to be satisfied with the quality of a story and how I tell it.

I have two suspense intrigue thrillers, a short story collection and a writing guide published to date, and I’m reworking a third thriller that should be out this year.

Quality is the name of the game and it’s what I strive for.   Website: http://www.alanawoods.com

Please join Alana Woods  on:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
She has published 4 books:

 

Amazon links: These are Georiot links that send people to their local Amazon store:
— Imbroglio:   http://georiot.co/IMBROGLIO
— Automaton:  http://georiot.co/AUTOMATON
— Tapestries and other short stories:  http://georiot.co/TAPESTRIES
Tapestries cover 255 KB
— 25 essential writing tips: guide to writing good fiction:  http://georiot.co/25WritingTips
25 Tips cover 117 KB
MGS FINAL COVER Small
Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Winner of the March 2014 “My Gutsy Story®” Yelena Parker

April 17, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 1 Comment

Yelena Parker
Yelena Parker
CONGRATULATIONS

 

 5 outstanding “My Gutsy Story®” authors in March. Their stories will be included in our 2nd “My Gutsy Story®” Anthology, published in the Fall of 2014.

It was a tight vote, and Yelena Parker won 1st Place for her “My Gutsy Story®” about stepping out of her comfort zone and volunteering in Tanzania for several months.

 

Yelena Parker
Yelena Parker

2nd Place goes to Peter Jones, a beautiful story of love, loss and finding happiness again.

Peter Jones
Peter Jones
Peter Jones
Peter Jones

3rd Place goes to Angela Marie Carter and her beautiful and amazing story about how poetry saved her life.

Angela Marie Carter
Angela Marie Carter
Angela Marie Carter

4th Place goes to Rachael Rifkin who captures the essence of travel: exploration, freedom, fulfillment, trusting yourself and  the opportunity to get to know yourself.

Rachael Rifkin
Rachael Rifkin

And finally, we have another fantastic “My Gutsy Story®” by Rosalie Marsh about living life to the fullest while you can.

Rosalie Marsh
Rosalie Marsh

 Thank you to all five authors. Your stories are all WINNERS.

MGS FINAL COVER Small
Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

The Impact of One Teenage Friend Who Cared

April 14, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 9 Comments

BennyWasserman

A Teenager Who Cared
“My Gutsy Story®” Benny Wasserman

“The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, not the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when you discover that someone else believes in you” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

For many years I told people a book by Jack London turned my life aroun¬d. It turns out the teenager who gave me that book was more important than the book itself. In the end it was this high school friend, whose faith in me changed the course of my life.
My father was fifty-two when I was born. He was a poor, Polish immigrant who could hardly speak Eng¬lish. When I was seven years old my mother committed suicide. My father physically and verbally abused me most of my childhood years. What¬ever re¬spect I had for him was out of fear.
From the time I was eight years old I had some kind of a job. Everything from sweeping floors, paper routes, working in a bakery, driving delivery trucks, and by the time I was twenty I was working in a slaughter house killing cows.
Although I’m ashamed to admit it, I was also involved in criminal activities which could have resulted in prison sentences. Fortunately my life turned around before I ever got caught. I don’t paint this picture of my youth for sympathy. I do so to show what a high school friend was dealing with when he tried to have some positive influence on me. He was dealing with a func¬tional illiterate who had no self-esteem or self-worth.
Now for the part of this story that has meant so much to me for the past forty-six years.
What is important about this story is not how much time I spent with my high school friend, but the incredible compas¬sion and faith he had in me. I had no idea at that time that another teen¬ager would become so concerned about my future. I now be¬lieve that what he did for me during the follow¬ing eight year period was just part of his benevo¬lent and charit¬able nature.
It all began when I was sixteen years old in my friend’s backyard. We had just finished playing stick-ball. I was about to get on my bike to go home, when he told me to wait a minute. He ran into his house, came back out, and handed¬ me a book to take home to read. All he said was, “see if you like it.” I said noth¬ing.
Nobody had ever loaned me a book to read. I took it home, kept it for a couple of weeks, and than returned it — unread. He never asked me if I liked it or not. If he did, I would have made something up. There was no way I was going to read a book.

During the following two years he loaned me three more books. It never occurred to me why he was loaning me these books, and I never asked. I never read any of them.
Before my friend went off to college, he asked me which college I was going to. After telling him I wasn’t going, he asked me why not. I told him because my father couldn’t afford the $75 for tuition. He than asked, “is that it?” I said, “yes.” Of course, I lied. I had no intention of going to college. I still hated school with a passion.
The following day my friend knocked on my door at home and handed me a check for $75 signed by his father. He said, “I think that should do it.” I could only shake my head in disbelief. What could I say, except thank you.
Two years later, on a college break, my friend came to visit me. He asked, “How’s school?” My face turned red as a beet. I had quit college three months after I enrolled. I told him that it just didn’t work out.
By then I was working in a slaughter house killing cows. It was 1954 and I was twenty years old. My friend suggested I join the Army for a couple of years to sort things out. So that’s what I did. Unfortunately I came out of the Army with no more vision of what I wanted to do with my life than before I went into the Army.
As a result of the training I had in the Army, and the GI Bill, I was able to attend an unaccredit¬ed trade school for Radio and Televison Repair.
At the age of twenty-four I got married. Although my friend was unable to attend the wedding, he sent us a strange wedding gift: A book! In¬scribed inside this book were the words, “To the Wasserman’s on Their Wedding Day.” That was it!
With the encouragement of my wife, it took me two years to read the book. Each time I learn¬ed the mean¬ing of a new word, and there were 747 of them, my self-esteem and self-worth took a giant leap forward. My life was never to be the same again.

Slowly but surely I became addicted to reading. My new found fascination with learning would never end. This experience was not only responsible for me becoming an aero¬space engineer for thirty-five years, but more importantly it led me to other books which were respon¬sible for allowing me to raise my children so dif¬ferently than the way I was raised. I was able to break the cycle of violence. And all of my children have advanced degrees.

JackLondonCover

Oh yes, the book was “MARTIN EDEN,” by Jack London. And that high school teen¬age friend, who never lost his faith in me, was Carl Levin, who is presently serving his sixth term as a U.S. Senator from my home state of Michigan.

Benny Wasserman and U.S. Senator Carl Levin

 

BENNY WASSERMAN was born and raised in Detroit, Mich.  Graduated Central High in 1952. He was in the U.S. Army 1954-56.  Trade school – Radio and TV Repair  1954-1956. He got his AA degree Pierce College.  Attended UCLA with a major in Sociology. Benny married in 1958, and has three sons (one physician and  two attorneys).  He has nine grand-children.

Benny was an Aerospace technician, Engineer, and Manager (1958-1992). He retired at age 58.

Benny Wasserman became Einstein impersonator – 1992 to present.

Benny as Einstein impersonator
Benny as Einstein impersonator

Published book, Presidents Were Teenagers Too in 2007.  Journal writer since 1985 – 10,700 pages ( page a day)  Completed autobiography Circumstances Beyond My Control.

BennyCover
Click on cover to go to Amazon page

Recently submitted parenting memoir, How Imperfect Parents Raised Perfect Children.

Please follow Benny Wassserman on the following sites:

Facebook  — www.facebook.com\presidentswereteenagerstoo
Twitter — @prezwereteens2
Yes, my book, Presidents Were Teenagers Too, can be found on Amazon and in six presidential gift shops around the country including the Richard Nixon Presidential Museum and Library in Yorba Linda, CA.
Autographed books can also be ordered from me directly for $10 plus shipping. E-mail Benny Wasserman for your copy: Wassben@aol.com
SONIA MARSH SAYS: Benny, your story makes us realize the impact that one person can have on our life. I so admire what your friend, Carl Levin, did for you and how you became an author, after being illiterate as a young man. What a beautiful story of compassion, and perseverance. Thank you for sharing your amazing life journey through struggle and raising a successful family of your own.

REMEMBER TO VOTE for your favorite March 2014 “My Gutsy Story®.” VOTING ends on April 16th.

The WINNER will be announced on April 17th. 13th.

 

MGS FINAL COVER Small
Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

 

PLEASE VOTE AND SHARE THESE STORIES USING THE LINKS BELOW.

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