Epic Follower Blogfest Contest

Yikes! I have been working all week to write one sentence. I am so silly. After all this time though, I still believe dreams can come true.

So, when I came across a contest hosted by Shelley Watters http://shelleywatters.blogspot.com/ , I got excited! Shelley has a cool blog called, "Is It Hot In Here Or Is It This Book?" and she is holding the Epic Follower Blogfest Contest.

This is where that one sentence comes in. All of us hopefuls have the opportunity to pitch a manuscript in 140 characters. The twitter sized proposal has the potential to land its manuscript in the hands of one Suzie Townsend of Fine Print Literary Management! (If I had a choice to win this prize or backstage passes to a Bon Jovi concert, I wouldn't even have to think about it. Jon and the boys could go home to their wives. Yeah, it's that good.)

Anyway, please check out Shelley's blog. There are a lot of great entries! Good luck to all!

And feel free to let me know what you think of mine! I yearn to learn!

Thanks!

Here goes:

SANE ENOUGH TO KNOW SHE'S CRAZY
Women's Fiction

A train rumbles as Carrie battles the hallucinations that drew her to the tracks. There's just one truth left to trust: This war must end.

Forever Blessed

I asked The Lord for guidance,

He spoke softly in my ear.

He said, "Come home, my child."

But I clung to my fear.



I prayed for understanding,

While guarding my desire,

And as I cried for mercy,

Tears raised smoke-clouds from the fire.



Faith cowered in the darkness,

My weary eyes refused to see,

The peace of my heart's longing,

Was not a piece of me.



Father, when You take me,

Please set my mind to rest,

Knowing Your glory didn't need me,

Yet my soul's forever blessed.

Wham, Bam, Thank You Mammogram

I used to hate them. The two little nubs barely distorted the shape of my t-shirt in gym class, but they destroyed my posture throughout middle school. The boobies rooted themselves to my humiliation, adjusting my fashion sense toward layers and alienating all swimsuits. Hiding the baby turnips ruled my wardrobe.

They grew on me, however, and so sprouted a beautiful friendship. Sweaters that used to hang started to hug. The awkward bumps took a curve. My body didn’t seem to hate me anymore. My spuds became my buds.

The relationship wasn’t perfect. We endured pain, growth and embarrassing lactation through pregnancies and beyond as payment for the incomparable bonds we enjoyed in nursing our babies. A sour nightgown or two was worth that though.

The weight that joined us over the years proves more difficult to overlook. Their bra demands went from cute and sexy to industrial strength support. I’ve been “D” listed. Straps are the enemy. Underwires strike with vengeful jabs.

I’m ashamed to admit, there have been times when I dared to wish away my breasts. In fleeting moments, I have entertained the idea of a bounce free existence. Then I felt a lump. I made a phone call and the test was ordered.

I’ve had these tests before, but it’s different when you’re not just there for a routine check. Now, with the gown open in the front, my emotions are exposed. As I sit in the waiting room, I set aside the worst case scenario and imagine actually living without my breasts. I wonder if my husband will look at me like one of the guys, if he’ll still hold me close when we dance.

I think of my children. For years, their headaches and heartbreaks have landed in my maternal comfort zone. Each of them has rested a head on my chest more times than I could say. Worried or wearied, there have been times when a cuddle is the best I have to offer.

I remember being a new mother, again and again and again. Every time felt as special as the last. Sweet drops of memory fall from my eyes.

I hear my name. A technician leads me to his lair. The room is cold. I want to turn and run to a land where boobies run free. The machine scowls at me. I am at its mercy. I stand before the beast, humbled in its grip. My trembling doesn’t matter. Twist, lift, breathe, wait. My buds can’t take anymore. One more squeeze and it’s over. The beast is satisfied.

I return to the waiting room. They’re sorry. I’m sorry. I agree to forget the time a wire poked through my blouse at a job interview. They promise not to float to the top next time we’re in the hot tub. We decide to go to Victoria Secret’s on the way home. We deserve something pretty. A man comes in to talk to me.

“Mrs. Hansen, I’ve looked at your mammogram and found nothing.”
“I beg your pardon?” I couldn’t help rolling my shoulders back in pronouncement of my dear friends.
“Everything looks normal. You can get dressed.”

Alleluia.

The End

Resistance walks with honest praise,
Free will my doubt defines,
Faith allows a distant peace,
Truth by grand design.

Bound by my source of freedom,
I let go to hold on,
I hear my Savior calling,
At last, the time has come.

Carrie Jenkins
from Sane Enough to Know She’s Crazy
by: Ruth Hansen

Secret Me

The darkness is overwhelming,
Fear invades my soul.
The silence that surrounds me,
Loudly takes its toll.

War rages in my head,
Serenity is hard to find.
Spirits try to guide me,
This can’t just be my mind.

Tranquility is possible,
Peace will come some day.
If only they could understand,
Life gets in the way.

Carrie Jenkins
from
Sane Enough to Know She's Crazy
By Ruth Hansen

Reach

I feel your world spinning,
And see you holding on,
Steady through the dizziness,
Turning with each dawn.

You don’t have to let go,
To reach out for a friend,
Together we can balance,
Strength wills hand to hand.

Sway with me through good times,
And when trials dip our resolve,
Let’s dance through life’s journey,
Holding close as we revolve.

SHE DID IT!!!

I'm happy to report that, despite heavy winds, a 4 a.m. bus ride and a seemingly hereditary geographical impairment, Mom and I made it to New York City to walk for Ovarian Cancer. I'm even happier to report that the girl still has her groove! Proudly parading her recent health victory, Mom hauled her healthy cookies two miles from the Intrepid Museum, along the Hudson River, and right up the middle of Broadway to the finish line at Times Square! She didn't even stop at Starbuck's.

AND - with the generous generosity of generations of the genuinely genial generated- our fundraiser brought $522 to the OCRF!! I am as grateful as a beaver after a thunderstorm.

Overall, the walk raised $137,000 for the research fund. Sweet!

After walking, the stars appeared on stage. Oprah, Bette Midler, Gayle King, Dr. Oz and Jennifer Hudson had their say and received celebratory cupcakes. Alas, without a telescope they were difficult to see. I must admit, my astronomical geek high took a hit.

We ditched ;) Oprah early enough to see Paganini, a comically twisted string quartet. We chose the show blindly after an unsuccessful quest for a warm place to sit and it quickly became the highlight of our trip.

Yes, we shopped. No, we didn't find a cardboard cutout of Matt Lauer. Sadly, the Naked Cowboy didn't make an appearance either. Instead, Mom considered taking me up on a bet to apply for a job at Hooter's, but decided the commute would be a bit much.

As we hopped on the bus to go home, I prepared myself for a few quiet hours confined to a seat with nothing to do but think. Contemplated bliss, if you will.

The ride took me on a familiar journey to the mountain of blessings my life has seen. I am so thankful for the incredible support of family and friends that lifts me from many valleys. No matter how lost I get, there's always a way. Hot coffee on a chilly day is also a good perk, but it tastes just as good when you get it in your own kitchen. Fun and laughter help shield me from things that could otherwise blow me over.

"Welcome to Pennsylvania," I read from my window seat. I turned my head and smiled at the view inside the bus as yet another blessing shone. I thanked God for the truth the past year made sure I saw: stars that shine in the distance could never compare to the twinkle sleeping in the seat right next to me.