People Archives - Page 33 of 107 - Sonia Marsh

How Do You Ask a Well-Known Person for an Interview?

February 20, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 1 Comment

A Gutsy Google+ Hangout with Alissa Everett

One of the best things about networking, especially online, is the ability to connect with people.

As an indie author, the Internet has become a goldmine for opportunities to interview people, whether famous authors like Nigel Marsh, or photographers like Alissa Everett, who was featured in Oprah magazine.

So often we think famous people aren’t accessible, and that there’s no point in trying to get in touch with them. I don’t believe that. I’ve found that asking people for interviews, and showing them that you’re interested in what they do, and how you’d like to help promote them, is a wonderful way to get in touch.

I discovered Alissa Everett, a well-known American photojournalist who is known for creating beautiful images in the world’s most troubled areas, through an article I read about her in the Oprah magazine. After checking her website and discovering that unlike other photojournalists, Alissa focuses on the positive stories in conflict zones like Syria, DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo), Darfur, Gaza and many other parts of the world, I asked if I could e-mail her some questions about her unconventional life. She agreed, and I’ve followed her ever since knowing that one day, we would reconnect.

Now Alissa has a non-profit, ExposingHope.org, and raises money at her photography exhibitions in the U.S. She donated $50,000 towards helping the rape victims in DRC and offers micro loans and safe houses for these women and their children. Alissa Everett is truly a “gutsy” woman and I hope you watch this moving video interview as she describes her work, being ambushed in DRC, and what she would like to see happen in our world.

I just donated $50 to support 5 children at the hospital in DRC for one month. Alissa’s non-profit ExposingHope.org sends 100% of all the money towards helping women and children in DRC. AS little as $10 offers HIV testing for 5 victims of violence. $20 provides 10 days of hospital stay.

Why don’t we all help Alissa Everett by sharing what she does, and how she risks her life in order to help others who are suffering in our world.

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UPDATE ON WHAT IS YOUR “GUTSY” GOAL FOR 2014.

You now have until March 6th, to enter the “Gutsy Goal for 2014” cotest. We have 6 submissions so far, and need more. Please follow the steps below.

One “GUTSY GOAL”
One “GUTSY WINNER.”

Enter our “Gutsy Goal” contest by answering the question:

What is your One biggest “Gutsy Goal” for 2014?

Please e-mail your “gutsy goal” to: Sonia@Soniamarsh.com

one sentence
one photo

Write “My Gutsy Goal for 2014” in the subject line, and I shall post all your responses on my “Gutsy Living” site on February 20th.

WINNER WITH THE “GUTSIEST” GOAL GETS:

1. FREE COPY OF Freeways to Flip-Flops: A Family’s Year of gutsy Living on a Tropical Island
2. FREE COPY OF My Gutsy Story® Anthology: True Stories of Love, Courage and Adventure From Around the World
3. FREE COPY OF DVD (SEE BELOW)
4. A GOOGLE+HANGOUT INTERVIEW WITH ME

Viki Noe says “Gutsiness” is a Choice

February 17, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 14 Comments

“I’m Not Gutsy, But You Are”

My Gutsy Story?

I don’t have one.

I still think of myself as the painfully shy, often sick, little girl who escaped into books. My best friends from high school will tell you I’m famous for “punting” (not the football variety). This involved talking myself out of things I really wanted (often involving men).

“Who do you think you are?” I was told when I was young that I had no right to go to private school. I had no right to go away to college. I had no right to move away from home.

It would’ve been easy, I suppose, to say, “You’re right,” and lower my expectations. I didn’t, though I was seriously tempted at times. My parents pushed us to succeed and I didn’t want to disappoint them, no matter how much that scared me. But at some point I knew I had to give it my best shot, even if I failed. That doesn’t mean there weren’t nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I’d made a decision that would ruin my life.

I realize now that I gave up my initial dream – working in the theatre in New York – too soon. I was on track, building a network and experience in Chicago. But I let an emotional trauma sidetrack me and my self-confidence. I still worked in the community for a few more years, but the dream was set aside, a dream I’d had since high school.

Many years later, I believe that everything in your past brings you to where you are now. By my own count, I’m on my fourth career. Writing was something I always enjoyed for my own pleasure, but nothing I ever considered doing professionally.

I was good at all of my careers. I was a damn good stage manager and a decent director. I raised millions when I was a fundraiser for arts, AIDS and social service organizations, and won national awards when I sold children’s books. But writing…this is different.

Writing is terrifying. It’s my name on the cover or byline. I write about myself, not just other people. And that scared the hell out of me. That shy girl was back: the one who didn’t like people looking at her as she walked down the aisle at her wedding.

I resisted sharing very much of myself for the first year of my blog. I saw myself as more of a teacher than a friend sharing stories. Changing required a good amount of surrender on my part, and a willingness to put myself on the line in a very public way. But if I was to grow, to succeed, I had no choice.

For most of my life, during the course of a conversation I’d recount something I’d done, and the other person would insist “oh, I could never do that.” They weren’t being judgmental about my actions. They meant they could never see themselves doing what I did.

I always had the same reaction: “Why not?” My accomplishments never felt terribly monumental. Were those things gutsy? They don’t feel gutsy to me:

I’ve traveled all over the country – and to London – alone. Planes, trains and automobiles have taken me places I dreamed of visiting for experiences I’ll always remember.

I’ve moved away from home, without a job or a permanent place to live, to a big city where I knew only two people.

I’ve approached strangers – famous or not – with requests: donations, autographs, interviews. Long ago I developed a mantra: what’s the worst they can do? They’ll say yes, no, or maybe. I can deal with all of those possibilities.

Gutsy? No, no, no. Part of my job or an item on my bucket list, but no, not gutsy. Gutsy is for other people.

They’re the ones who do spectacular, public things: walking a tightrope across Niagara Falls, going to war, or performing in front of thousands of people. All right, I did do that last one, but that doesn’t count: I was so near-sighted I couldn’t see past the orchestra pit.

If it’s true most people live lives of “quiet desperation”, it’s also true that they live lives of “quiet gutsiness”. Some days just getting out of bed and putting one foot in front of the other is the gutsiest thing you can do. Maybe a spouse has died, a job lost, a mountain of medical bills. Their life has taken a turn, and not for the better. “I don’t have a choice,” I’ve heard them say (and said to myself on occasion). “I just have to keep going.”

Gutsiness is a choice. It might be a conscious one, with a specific goal, like changing careers. It might be completely unconscious, other than the acknowledgement that sometimes you just have to keep trying your best to get through it all, in the hope that something better awaits you. I don’t think we give ourselves enough credit for that.

My father used to tell my mother that he could throw me into a tiger pit, and I’d be okay: I’d come out bloodied, but I’d make it. I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it literally, though for a long time I didn’t understand it. I wasn’t even sure it was a compliment.

But last year, at the age of 60, I walked into my first ACT UP (AIDS Coalition To Unleash Power) meeting in New York. Does that mean I’m ready to get arrested for demonstrating? I guess it does. I’m definitely ready to be more vocal about the things that matter the most to me.

There was a moment, early in the AIDS epidemic, when I made a conscious decision to get involved, because I knew I could help. I remember thinking to myself that I did not want to look back and regret not doing anything.

Maybe that’s what it means to be gutsy: to choose to live your life without regrets.

Does that make me gutsy? No. I’m doing what I have to do, just like all of you.

VICTORIA NOE has been a writer most of her life, but didn’t admit it until 2009. She worked in Chicago’s theatre community, and then transferred her skills to being a fundraiser for arts, educational and AIDS organizations. A concussion ended her career as an award-winning sales consultant of children’s books, so she decided to keep a promise to a dying friend to write a book, which became the “Friend Grief” series.

Her articles have appeared on grief and writing blogs as well as Windy City Times, Chicago Tribune and Huffington Post, and reviews books on BroadwayWorld.com. Her website is www.friendgrief.com.

Join Viki on Twitter: @Victoria_Noe

On Facebook

Check out Viki’s books on Amazon

Viki Noe book1 — Click on cover to go to Amazon

Viki Noe book2 — Click on book to go to Amazon

Viki Noe book3 — Click on book to go to Amazon

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

MGS FINAL COVER Small — Click on cover to purchase on 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

Our February 2014 stories have started with Susie Mitchell and Leanne Dyck sharing their “My Gutsy Story®.”

Dyslexia Has Not Stopped Me From Becoming an Author

February 10, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 15 Comments

Oh, yes, I can

“My Gutsy Story®” by Leanne Dyck

A social worker told my parents that they’d have to take care of me for the rest of my life. My principal told them I was uneducable. Thankfully, a resource teacher stepped in on my behalf. She taught me that learning was fun.

The commonly held definition of dyslexia is that it is a difficulty with learning to read. But this is a condensed definition. The challenges people with dyslexia face and the severity of these challenges vary from person to person.

For me, deciphering the social codes has always been a challenge—I never received my copy of that handbook. When I manage to figure out how to respond often it’s too late or, in a rush to be on time, a jumble of poorly pronounced words. Writing allows me to slow down and think. It gives me an opportunity to select the right word, tone, tense and to check for clarity and accuracy.

At a young age I learnt that even though my tongue may fail me, my pen seldom would. My first publishing success came when I was still in elementary school—one of my poems was published in the school newspaper. I repeated grade two but once in middle school I was determined to excel. So I divorced myself from any social interaction and books and studying became my world. A middle school Language Arts teacher introduced me to John Steinbeck and I fell in love with his writing. Mr. Steinbeck gave voice to the voiceless. Writing gave me a voice. I had lots to say but needed a venue. Through my writing I began to feel heard. I graduated from high school with an award in Language Arts.

After graduation, the question of what I would do next paralyzed me. I thought living the rest of my life on my parents’ sofa was a solution. However, my parents wanted more for me. From early childhood, despite what they’d been told, my parents continued to believe in the soundness of my intellect. Responding to my dad’s not so gentle pushing, I decided to join Katimavik—a government-run youth group. You’d think that living communally for nine months wouldn’t be the best situation for someone with limited social skills. But you’d be wrong. Katimavik was one of the most important experiences in my life. I completed the program and won newfound confidence. With that confidence I entered university. And I was amazed to find that I was able to obtain and maintain a decent grade point average. I graduated from the program and gained employment as an Early Childhood Educator.

Throughout my life I’ve been able to play the ‘help me’ card. But in my late twenties I met a man who refused to play the game. That man became my husband and his special brand of tough love continues to be one of the driving forces behind my success.

Becoming an author had been a dream I’d hidden away since my teens. Weakened by a family tragedy, I shared my dream with my husband. I thought he was going to laugh or…—but not him. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

The choice was clear either act to fulfill my dream or abandon it. From 2006 to 2009, I self-published an audio book, paperbacks and Ebooks. Buoyed up by these successes, I decided to pursue traditional publishing. So I made a pact to submit one story—of whatever size—every month until something happened. Well, things did start to happen. Within the last five years I’ve had short stories published in Island Writer, Kaleidoscope, Canadian Stories, Icelandic Connection and Island Gal. And I’ve also completed five book-length manuscripts.

But years of self-doubt and low-self esteem have taken their toll and have resulted in stress related health problems. I thought joining a peer support group would help. But when I was unable to find a group, I became my own advocate. I now practice Tai Chi and Yoga as well as take Bach flower oil to help me cope with anxiety.

I’m enheartened by the support now available for children with learning disabilities. But am disappointed by the lack of support for adults with learning disabilities. Simply because we manage to jump through academic hoops and graduate doesn’t mean our problems disappear. We still face them—everyday. Lack of support leaves learning disabled adults with health and employment problems—some of us wind up on the street or in jail. Potential lost. Lives wasted. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Something must be done. All of us deserve to have an opportunity to have our own success story.

Increasing society’s knowledge of dyslexia is a good starting point. And through non-fiction books such as The Gift of Dyslexia by Ronald D. Davis and Understanding Dyslexia and Other Learning Disabilities by Linda Siegel this goal is slowly being met. Hoping to help obtain this goal, I’ve written a novel about my own experiences with dyslexia. And I continue to push myself out of my comfort zone by, for example, reading my writing during open mic nights.

I’d like to conclude with a poem…

I need you to know that I am capable—even when I show my inability

I need you to have faith that I will be able to pick myself up when I fall

I need you to let me show you what I’m capable of—before you help me.

I need you to shout at the top of your lungs, “Yes, you can! If not now—someday; if not without me—with me.”

I need you to believe in me—even when, especially when, I don’t.

LEANNE DYCK is a women’s fiction author. Her stories are about outsiders facing challenges. Within the last five years, her writing has been published in Island Writer, Kaleidoscope, Canadian Stories, Icelandic Connection and Island Gals magazines. Leanne has written a fictionalized account of her own experiences with dyslexia. She’s seeking a publisher for books one and two in this series, and is currently writing book three. To learn more about this series and to follow her author journey, please visit her blog: http://sweatercursed.blogspot.ca

Please join Leanne on Facebook:

Twitter: @lustfulgraces

SONIA MARSH SAYS: Your story is inspiring to all those who believe that dyslexia will prevent them from accomplishing their goals of becoming a writer. I’m happy to hear your husband encouraged you to pursue your lifelong dream.

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REMEMBER TO VOTE for your favorite one of 4 “My Gutsy Story®” submissions, on the sidebar. You have from now until February 12th to vote on the sidebar, (only one vote per person) and the winner will be announced on February 13th, and will select a prize from our generous sponsors.

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

Click on cover to go to Amazon link

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

Pregnant Mom Trains to Win Gold Medal

February 3, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 7 Comments

Pregnancy to Podium

“My Gutsy Story®” by Susie Mitchell

I am Susie, 37 year first time mom to a lovely vibrant baby girl Tori. I have always had an active lifestyle and loved sport from a young age. Yearning to be really good at something, in fact anything, I had tried everything from shot-putt to surfing, without much success. All that changed in the summer of 2011, when I tried track cycling for the first time. A type of cycling that is carried out at high speeds on an oval banked track using a fixed wheel bike with no brakes, it was exciting and I was hooked immediately. What’s more I was good at it. Racing on the track appealed to my competitive nature and I clearly had potential, winning races within a few weeks of getting up on the bike. When my coach suggested to me I would be good enough to compete in the World Masters Track Cycling Championships in Manchester the following October, a dream was ignited, and it became my focus. I had never competed internationally in any sport and was giddy at the thoughts of it. Then a massive curveball came my way – I became pregnant. I did not want to let go of my new found passion after waiting all these years to find it. I knew so many people who gave up their exercise and hobbies when they became pregnant and never went back. I wanted to hang onto my sport and my identity through pregnancy and becoming a mum for the first time.

Despite all the opinions to the contrary, I was determined to find a way to train safely and effectively through my pregnancy. I had always believed in the benefits of exercise during pregnancy and being a vet I had always marvelled how animals took all this in their stride. I searched the internet for all I could find on exercise and pregnancy and found only conservative advice. “Gentle jogging or easy swimming” didn’t appeal to me and wasn’t going to help me to the World Masters the following October. Turning my back on the internet and the colloquial advice that abounded, I focussed on what the science said to use as my guide. Surprisingly, after extensive reviewing of research and scientific papers, I discovered very little evidence to stop me doing pretty much anything while carrying a baby. Through this research and with the help of my coach, I found a way to maintain fitness and train through pregnancy safely.

The best advice I got was from one scientist and pretty simple – “listen to your body”. I used this as my mantra when working out. If it felt OK, I did it. I got some funny looks from people in the gym when I was lifting weights and doing core work. I got disapproving glances when I was in the park riding my bike. However, I forged ahead, as my coach and I had devised a set of guidelines for safe cycling which I trusted, giving me the confidence to go on. I worked on things like mental preparation and leg speed when I couldn’t do anything else. With some careful planning and research I found something suitable to do at every stage of the pregnancy. I trained right up until I was 10 days overdue and thought I had it all sorted.

A surprise was in store. You can prepare, but nothing prepares you for it. The impact of having a baby on your life is colossal. My goal had been to arrive at the birth of my baby in peak physical condition. I had achieved this and in ways was probably fitter then I ever had been. I had trained with my bump in ways I never thought possible, and had enjoyed every minute of it.

However, when my beautiful healthy baby arrived into the world, everything went out the window. I had a dose of reality to deal with, grappling with the concept of being responsible for another human being for the rest of my life. I watched people through my window cycling past as I sat inside in my pyjamas trying to feed my baby and wondered would I ever get out and ride my bike again. I was physically exhausted from lack of sleep but more importantly I was mentally falling apart. I started to wonder if I was ever going to feel normal or be as happy and carefree as before. The whole experience, to my utter shock, had totally floored me.

Salvation came from the bike. Two weeks after the birth I tentatively got back in the saddle and started rolling around. Those first few laps pushing the pedals with the wind in my face felt like pure heaven. I was myself again, doing something for me, but with the bonus of a beautiful baby to go back to after a training session. The effects of sleep deprivation were nearly completely negated by exercise. I hadn’t foreseen it, but my sport kept me mentally strong during those difficult first few weeks post-partum, helping me cope.

My return to form came so much quicker than I could have expected winning my first ever National medal just 6 weeks after the birth. I added others in the following months as I went from strength to strength culminating in my fulfilling my dream, travelling to compete in the World Masters in Manchester just 4 months after Tori arrived.

The event I was targeting was the individual pursuit. I was nervous with anticipation but when the starting gun went I knuckled down and rode my heart out, going faster than ever before, scooping the world title by just half a second. A lifelong dream had been fulfilled; I had excelled and was now a World Champion! Standing on the podium, wearing the rainbow jersey, the gold medal hanging around my neck and the Irish national anthem playing, tears streamed down my face. I knew that none of this would have been possible without having my baby, she trained with me, and she gave me energy, inspiration and focus, and made me strong. By being determined to maintain my identity, I ended up finding a new one, reinventing myself as a credible athlete, discovering it was possible to fuse motherhood and sport at a high level. Unless I had lived this story, I never would have thought it possible to have both in such perfect synergy.

SUSIE MITCHELL is a 37-year-old first time mom to a lovely baby girl, Tori. She currently lives in Dublin, Ireland with her supportive and long suffering husband Cormac. Working as a fish vet, she travels the length and breadth of the country visiting fish farms, jumping on and off trawlers in all kinds of weather. Susie has always enjoyed sport coming from a background of surfing and adventure racing, and more recently track cycling. She tries to juggle being a mum, wife, training and working with reasonable success.

Please follow Susie Mitchell.

Susie’s website: www.pregnancytopodium.com
Susie on Twitter: @susie_mitchell
Susie’s Facebook.

Susie Mitchell book cover — Click on cover to go Amazon link

SONIA MARSH SAYS: Susie, first of all Congratulations on your medal and your determination. As a woman who loves weight training, I can relate to the benefits of exercise during pregnancy. I shall never forget the look on people’s faces at the gym in Paris, when I benched and my bump was six-months out there. Keep training!

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PLEASE VOTE for your favorite one of 4 “My Gutsy Story®” submissions, on the sidebar. You have from now until February 12th to vote on the sidebar, (only one vote per person) and the winner will be announced on February 13th, and will select a prize from our generous sponsors.

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

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

How I Became a “Gutsy” Mennonite

January 27, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 25 Comments

The Fear of Death

“My Gutsy Story®” Shirley Showalter

Behind all our fears, often hidden even to ourselves, lies one big fear.

Yes, you got it. The fear of death.

We can’t become truly gutsy, courageous, until we accept the reality of death and consciously seek to live deeply and fully in its presence.

I first stared death in the face at the age of six.

It happened this way:

On the evening of Dec. 20, 1954, my younger brother Henry and I were playing in a little stack of hay in our barn, making tunnels out of bales and talking about what we hoped for in our Christmas stockings. Cows chewed contentedly next to us. The DeLaval milkers sounded almost like heartbeats—lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub—as they extracted warm milk from each udder.

And then we heard it: a horrible, penetrating, animal-like scream, piercing that night and my life to this day. The terrible sound grew louder as Mother came toward the barn. She ran to Daddy and, still screaming, started pounding him on his chest.

“My baby is dead. Our baby is dead. My baby is dead.” That was all she could say, over and over again. Then she would throw back her head and wail.

I learned a lesson that night that I would have to learn again when my father died at age 55 and when several close friends died in sudden, untimely ways.

We all die.

From then on, life became even more precious. I decided to live twice, once for myself and once for the little sister who lived only 39 days.

When I played softball on the playground, I swung for the fences.

When I read books, like Little Women, I identified with the gutsiest character, Jo.

When I discovered you have to go to college in order to be a teacher I decided to go, even though my parents weren’t enthusiastic about the idea. Even though no one else in my family had ever gone.

When I stood up to the bishop in my Mennonite Church and told him that he wasn’t practicing what he preached.

What does it mean to live twice? How did it change my life?

In other words, my childhood and adolescence were never the same after I heard my mother scream and after I touched the cold, white skin of my baby sister inside that sad little casket in 1954.

Death made a searcher out of me. I sought out writers who understood urgency, such as Annie Dillard, who advised:

Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting solely of terminal patients. That is, after all, the case. What would you begin writing if you knew you would die soon? What could you say to a dying person that would not enrage by its triviality?

I love these words. I try to keep them in mind as I write my stories.

But I have to keep something else in mind also.

I believe that death is not the end of life. The writers I love best don’t dwell on morbidity, they face death and fear, and while doing so, come home to themselves by coming home to love. Engraved inside their hearts is the reminder that love is eternal.

But it wasn’t a writer that taught me that lesson first; it was my mother. After she shook my six-year-old world with her screams and tears, she took solace in her faith and accepted the comfort of friends and family. Depression tempted her. She could have withdrawn from life and hence from her living children. Had that happened, you would not be reading these words.

Sometimes the gutsiest things we do are to keep on putting one foot in front of another and continuing to live, determined to turn darkness into light.

Next month my mother turns eighty-seven. I no longer fear death because love has triumphed. Whatever is gutsy in me goes all the way back to 1954 and to the woman who never gave up on life, my mother.

SHIRLEY HERSHEY SHOWALTER, author of Blush: A Mennonite Girl Meets a Glittering World, grew up on a Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, dairy farm and went on to become a professor and then college president and foundation executive. Find her at her website: www.shirleyshowalter.com

Please watch my interview with Shirley Showalter about her memoir: Blush: A Mennonite Girl Meets a Glittering World

Please join Shirley on her Facebook page, and on Twitter @Shirleyhs

Here is my 5-star review of Shirley’s excellent memoir, Blush.

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

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

Our January 2014 “My Gutsy Story®” series started with:

VOTING for your favorite January 2014 “My Gutsy Story®” starts on January 30th and ends on February 12th. Winner will be announced on February 13th.