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Vote for your favorite April “My Gutsy Story”

May 3, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

From May 3rd until May 16th, at midnight, PST, you can vote for your favorite April 2012, “My Gutsy Story.”

To VOTE, please go to the poll on the right  side of this post. You will find it on the sidebar listing the names of all 5 “My Gutsy Story,” authors.

Here are the 5 fabulous stories. Only ONE vote per person.

1). JoAnn Abraham

 

JoAnn Abraham

 

 

2). Esther Goodman

 

Esther Goodman

 

3). Richard White

 

Ritchie White

4). Keren-Niccole Bunnell

 

Keren-Niccole Bunnell

5). Rebecca Hall

 

Rebecca Hall

 

Thanks to these FIVE wonderful writers who opened up and shared their own “My Gutsy Story” for us to read.

April’s winner will be announced on May 17th, from Paris, where I shall be landing on May 16th. The winner gets to pick his/her prize from our 14 sponsors.

Good Luck to all of you. Your stories are amazing and inspiring. Please share these stories with friends and fellow writers and bloggers by clicking on the SHARE links below.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

Please share the “My Gutsy Story” series with others on Twitter using the #MyGutsyStory. Thank you.

 Above Photo credit Stock Photo

 

 

“My Gutsy Story” by Rebecca Hall

April 30, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

Giving and Receiving sets the scene.

            As I board the plane, my sister’s words echo in my ears: “Always running away, that’s your problem.  Why can’t you settle down?”  This had always been my problem, never conventional and at 30, still with no intention to settle down and have kids—instead I was off to the ‘teardrop’ island of Sri Lanka to teach them.

Eager eyes stared and small mouths smiled at me, white teeth gleaming from grubby faces.  The weariness of ten travel hours faded as my “Hello!” was answered by a chorus of giggles that erupted from behind cupped hands. Tropical heat simmered in the windowless classroom, yet the children focused with rapt attention on my English lesson.  Street sounds assailed, but tiny ears ignored the symphony of horns, vendors’ shouts and temple chanting.

That night, supine in bed I thought once again about my sister’s comments.  As the days progressed, I realised I loved being ‘unconventional’, there was nothing ‘wrong’ with me!  I loved these kids and everything they taught me about humanity, humility and pureness.

Delphi

This process of going abroad to a culture severely different to my own helped set precedence.  My time in Sri Lanka dulled that nagging voice in the back of my head—that it was wrong for a woman in her 30’s to not be ‘settled’ in a conventional, socially acceptable way.  This paved the way for me to then undertake my first degree in my mid-30’s, and receive a very good grade for my International Relations study.  What followed was yet more travelling, yet this time settling (of sorts) in the beautiful country of Greece.

Rebecca Hall-Skopelos

Being from Europe, ‘travel’ for me was not ‘travel’ unless it entailed a plane journey of over 4 hours, and CERTAINLY it wasn’t really ‘travel’ if it was in Europe.  But who would’ve thought this country on the cusp of Europe could offer such diversity in culture, food and mentality?  I LOVE it here and have found myself ‘settling’ for the time being (at least the last 3.5 years), albeit still not with the pre-requisite husband and kids, but I am HAPPY.  For the first time in my life, I can honestly say that I LOVE my life…that nagging voice that questions if I am always running away knows the answer: only I know myself, no-one has the right to squash other people’s dreams because they’re perceived out of the ‘norm’ or that person is unconventional.

Greece

I hope others have the strength to follow their gut instincts and do what they know is best for them because ultimately, you will be doing everyone else a favour too: a happier and more content ‘you’ benefits everyone else around you.  Remember: it’s the unconventional amongst us that help make the biggest changes.

 

Epidaurus Ancient Theatre on performance day

Good luck!

 

Rebecca Hall’s Bio

 

At 30 years old, Rebecca decided she’d had enough of trying to fit into everybody else’s view of how to live life: a long term job (never mind that it bored her, literally, to tears) and now time to find a man to settle down with.

So, she sold her apartment, used the money to help fund a 4 month volunteer programme teaching English in a rural, provincial school in Sri Lanka before continuing on her worldwide travels to New Zealand, the South Pacific and coast to coast across the USA.

Rebecca Hall

Upon her return, she undertook her first degree and gained a high score for her studies in International Relations & Sociology, proceeded to further study of how to teach English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) and is settled for the time being in Athens, Greece teaching English, voiceover work and maintaining a blog about her adventures in this beautiful, historical, misrepresented European country.  She has also taught in Cambodia, Cairo Egypt and found herself teaching dour, Russian and Eastern European sailors on board a container ship across the Atlantic Ocean!

 

 

 

Join Rebecca on her social media sites:

Blog: www.lifebeyondbordersblog.com

FB: www.facebook.com/LifeBeyongBordersBlog

Twitter: www.twitter.com/BeyondBex
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/BeyondBex

 

Sonia Marsh Says: I love your Gutsy, unconventional approach to life; enjoying things while you can, and not being “stuck” in a place or a job you don’t like. Good for you for finding happiness somewhere other than where you were born and raised. I can still relate to the “always running away,” that’s something that has stayed with me, even though I’m much older than you.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story”?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here. We now have 14 Sponsors, including the two latest sponsors, Dave, The Podcast Guy, if you wish to learn how to make your own podcasts, and Jason Matthews, an expert on e-books. Check them out on the contest page.

Please share the “My Gutsy Story” series with others on Twitter using the #MyGutsyStory. Thank you.

COME BACK TO VOTE  for your favorite April 2012, “My Gutsy Story” starts May 3rd-May 16th. The winner will be announced on Thursday, May 17th, from Paris, where I shall be staying to celebrate my dad’s 87th birthday.

 

Gutsy Book Buzz: Cover, Presentation, New Sponsor

April 26, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

 

I am so proud of the work done by 1106 Design company on my book cover. I highly recommend them for any of your future covers. Michele De Filippo is always there to answer questions and so is the wonderful Ronda Rawlins, whom I worked with on all the details. 1106 Design is also doing the formatting of my manuscript and I picked a 6×9″ book with a nice tropical island icon for my chapters taking place in Belize, and a suburban house with a path, for the chapters taking place in Orange County, California.

It makes a huge difference when you select a professional company that focuses on book covers, manuscript formatting, logos, and ARC’s  (Advanced Reader Copies) to send out for endorsements prior to publication.

If you wish to meet Michele De Filippo, please come over to GIP (Gutsy Indie Publishers) on Facebook. She will answer your questions, and we have many topics covered about publishing your book, e-books, promotion, blog tours, ISBN’s, Library of Congress, PCIP #’s and anything else you want to learn about.

 

My First Presentation at MOAA (Military Officers Association of America) April 19th, 2012.

“I Never Thought my Son Would Become a Soldier”


Thanks to Dee Fitzgerald for inviting me to speak, and to the wonderful audience of military officers and their spouses, who gave me such a warm welcome.

During the presentation, I focused on how our year  of living a simple life in Belize, changed my family. When we returned to Orange County, my youngest son decided he wanted to attend a military school. He no longer had the same values as many of his peers in high school.

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Final piece of great news: We have a NEW SPONSOR for the winner of the monthly “My Gutsy Story” series, and that’s the  expert on e-books Jason Matthews.

Jason Matthews is an expert on e-books and he’s offering a 30-minute private consultation, as well as a copy of his biggest seller, How to Make, Market and Sell Ebooks All for Free. Since the contest winners have such a compelling story, this guide will benefit them tremendously if they decide to publish their tale to an even larger audience like with Amazon Kindle. Ebooks are available in pdf, epub and mobi format.

Jason Matthews

Jason Matthews free e-book

Enter the “My Gutsy Story” contest here.

Please comment and share with your friends. Thanks and look forward to everyone’s success.

 

“My Gutsy Story” by Keren-Niccole Bunnell

April 23, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

The Guardianship Mission

“Sunny skies and fair weather today,” reported the Weather Channel app on my iPhone. Indeed, it was a beautiful day with the soft breeze wafting in salt air from the ocean less than a mile away. But today, my brother, three younger sisters and I barely noticed the lovely weather. We were on a mission. I squeezed our white sedan into the last downtown parking space available and chattering in nervous anticipation, we strode down the bustling city streets to arrive at the San Diego Family Claims courthouse. We had received a summons to appear in court per my petition to become the legal guardian of my four siblings who ranged in age from 15 to 19. At 21 I was just barely old enough to do so, and, despite having prepared this with my lawyer for several weeks, I was struggling to keep up an outwardly cool composure.
Standing in a huddle before the imposing, red brick building, I realized that for the past month, the five of us had wandered like sheep without shepherds, confused and bewildered. After years of living in a safe, secure, homeschooled environment, we suddenly found ourselves quite alone in the world. Our father had died in 2007 after a devastating battle with melanoma that had penetrated his brain, changing his personality and slowly robbing him of his memory. One year after our father died, our mother was diagnosed with colon cancer. Month by month we watched her painfully slip away. We had buried her besides Dad only a few weeks before. As the oldest, it was now time for me to step up to the plate and fill the role of head of our little household.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the heavy glass door and we walked in. Two security officers, each fully equipped with guns, a radio and a club were on hand to greet us, cheerfully confiscating our bags and dumping them into plastic bins, which were rolled down the conveyor belt into a security checking system.
In the lobby it was hot and crowded with people. An almost tangible presence of problems permeated the room. On a bench against the wall slumped a dejected lady with tangled gray hair, wearing a dirty pink dress. She sat motionless, holding her head in her hands. In one corner, a black man argued loudly with a city employee while in another corner, a haggard mother filled out paperwork with two small boys clinging to her skirt. It seemed that there were sad stories to be read in the eyes of the many troubled individuals we saw there.
We waited anxiously in a noisy hall until a sheriff opened the courtroom door with a flourish. The actual courtroom was quite small and every chair was soon filled as all awaited the appearance of the judge. A hush settled over the room; wisps of muted conversation rose and fell. A baby began to wail; the sheriff scowled. I sat rigidly in my seat, gripping the armrests with sweaty palms as waves of apprehension swept over me. Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in my stomach. The courtroom officials were busy in their own familiar little world: the stenographer, with her tidy hair and efficient fingers set up her miniature typing machine; the bailiff in her police uniform, her hair coiled into a smooth bun, was quite pretty; the interpreter, an older, professional-looking Spanish woman, sifted through stacks of papers and gazed around the room with a sigh.
At last, the judge strode in, his long black robe flowing behind him. I watched him with uneasy curiosity as he organized his desk then called up the first case. He looked to be in his fifties and had a definitive air of authority about him. As each group stood to plead their case before him my apprehension deepened. He was neither kind, nor sympathetic. His responses were blunt and impartial, and most of the people went away rejected, rescheduled and frustrated. I quickly discovered that I was right about the sad stories; there was not a happy one among them. Bitterness, anger, even hatred was rife in their voices and gestures.
Standing before the judge was even more intimidating than I had expected. He carefully scrutinized my face as he listened to our lawyer justify my appeal. How grateful I was not to say anything! I would probably have choked up or scrambled my words as I usually do when I’m nervous. When the lawyer finished explaining our situation and pleading our case, the judge sat silent for a long moment. His response shocked everyone in the audience. My breath caught in my throat and stayed there as the judge praised our strength and courage in the face of our circumstances and complimented my siblings for their support and submission. I blushed beet red and my heart flip-flopped wildly. There was a profound hush in the room; even the baby had ceased to wail. “I grant your petition and I whole-heartedly wish you good fortune in your lives,” the judge finished. I breathed out a tremendous sigh of relief. With the eyes of everyone upon us, we walked out wreathed in smiles. Notwithstanding our calm and happy exterior, we were really skipping and dancing, singing and shouting in pure delight.
Walking back through the lobby I found that the aura of troubles and heartaches no longer seemed so oppressive. There were brighter and happier days ahead for the careworn people gathered here, just as I knew there would be for us. Leaving the courthouse, we were entering a new phase of our lives in which five, very young adults would be the supreme law-inventors and decision-makers in our childhood home. As we merrily crammed back into our little car, bubbling over with laughter and pride, we did not yet know of the lessons, hardships, sorrows and joys that were in the road ahead.

About Keren-Niccole Bunnell and her family:

My dad was a Lieutenant Commander in the Navy and my mom was a stay-at-home mom.  She home schooled my four younger siblings and me all the way through high school.  Unfortunately, my parents died within three years of each other after devastating battles with cancer.  I became the legal guardian of my minor siblings at the age of 21 and now, two years later, the five of us are attending the same university together on full music scholarships.

Besides performing in Southern California as a string quintet, my three sisters, our little brother and I love to backpack and we have section hiked the Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to the Anza Borrego desert.  For the next four months we are training as a team to run in the Rock & Roll marathon which is held in San Diego (it will be our second marathon).  In late spring, we will board an airplane for the very first time and tour the east coast, performing in concerts with our college choir and orchestra.  The past two years have been a time of healing and growing together as a family and the future ahead is so exciting!

My website is: http://bunnellstrings.com/ and you can follow me on Facebook.

Sonia Marsh Says:

Like all who have read your story, I am in admiration of you and your family. Keren, you seem so mature, and after e-mailing back and forth, I am grateful that your parents raised an amazing daughter who took charge of her family after such tragedy. You are truly a hero. What a talented family you are, and thank you for taking care of your siblings at such a young age.

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Please leave your comments and questions for Keren-Nicolle Bunnell below.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to submit?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

Are you a writer looking for support from other writers and professionals, please join our growing, GIP (Gutsy Indie Publishers) group on Facebook. You can find out more about the Gutsy Indie Publisher community here.

Please share Keren’s “My Gutsy Story” with your fellow writers and readers by clicking the various social icons below.


How Blogging Can Open Doors You Never Expected

April 19, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

Be open, flexible and Gutsy, as you never know where the blogging world can take you.

Thanks to Dee Fitzgerald, “Doctor Eclectic” one of my blogger friends and followers, I am speaking at the MOAA (Military Officers Association of America)  South Coast Chapter.

You may be wondering:

  • Why?
  • How did this happen?
  • What has Sonia Marsh got to do with the MOAA?
  • What does her forthcoming travel memoir: Freeways to Flip-Flops: A Family’s Year of Gutsy Living on a Tropical Island, have to do with the Military Officers Association of America.
  • What can she possibly be speaking about since she doesn’t have a military background?

Well, Dee was interested in our family’s escape from materialism and has followed me for several years on my blog. The topic of my speech is:

“I never thought my son would become a soldier.”

Our year in Belize, from 2004-2005, changed my family. Upon our return to Orange County, California, my youngest son decided he wanted to attend a military high school. I shall bring aspects of our life before, during and after our year in Belize.

Here is an excerpt from my book, when my husband and I were on our scouting trip, prior to moving our family to Belize:

“Barefoot kids walked alongside the road sucking on juicy mangos with orange flesh, dripping like ice cream cones in the heat. Some kids stopped to stare at our white faces; others started running, as if trying to beat our car to the finish line. Solitary shacks appeared, with nothing but a hammock inside them. A few chickens roamed the premises and, sometimes, a lone skinny cow or a horse remained close to a shack. I wondered whether the cow or horse represented a local status symbol—the Belizean version of a BMW on the driveway. What a different environment from ours back home. What would my boys think?“

Has blogging opened up doors for you? If so please share. Which door would you like to have open for you?

 Above Photo Credit MOAA website

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to submit?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

 

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