Showing posts with label author. Show all posts
Showing posts with label author. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

From the Ashes... How I became a Phoenix

I'm copying and pasting this post from my blog on Phoenix, which you can read here, because it's personal and relates a lot to some things I've already blogged about here in the past. SO, if you missed it and you want to read a pretty inspiring and uplifting story about how I got here and from where,
and why I chose to launch Phoenix, you should keep reading...

Trustworthy. Boldness. Passion. Authenticity. Inspiring.

When asked recently to choose 5 words that mean the most to me in my business and in my life, I chose these. The interesting thing is, five years ago these are not the words I would have chosen as important.

That’s because five years ago, I was stuck. Stuck inside my comfort zone spot. I was married with kids, busy cooking and cleaning and balancing the budget. I spent a lot of time worrying about the future and frowning into the present.

We’ve all been wedged into that spot. A place where you’re just getting by, existing, floating along. You aren’t sad or lonely or depressed. You aren’t thrilled or excited or passionate either. It’s not a place of fulfillment. It’s certainly not joy, it just IS.

Then an event happened that shook absolutely everything I was made of.

In one single moment, everything crumbled. My foundation was reduced to rubble and I was nothing more than a pile of ashes. Now, this event that I’m talking about was HUGE. Life-altering game-changing, identity-challenging. It’s a story with a tragic core and a beautiful rebuilding. And it’s not entirely my story to tell. At least, not on a public platform.

What I know is this: the details of the event don’t matter because we’ve ALL had it happen. That game-changing MOMENT in our lives. That split second where we are forced to take a step back and SEE things for how they truly are.

And for some people, it’s not a life-changing event. It’s straws placed over and over until your back breaks and you can’t imagine working that cubicle another day. Or answering to someone else’s demands on your time. Or missing just one more school play or soccer game. Or paying a babysitter another dime for childcare when you really want to be home.
Or continuing to live one more day in a life that’s become a lie. A s a person who isn’t fully YOU.

Being a Phoenix doesn’t always mean rising from tragedy. It means releasing an old life and rising into a new one.  

For me it was that one single event. An event that hurled me out of everything familiar, forcing me to either sink or swim.

I decided to swim. And it wasn’t easy. I had to tread water for several months, clawing my way back to who I was. Who I wanted to be.

The months coming away from that experience were difficult. I went through a very intensive and thorough self-discovery process. I had to rediscover myself from the ground up, all the way down to my soul.

Finally, when I felt myself regaining my footing, I re-discovered my love of writing.
And that’s where my real journey began.

What ended up happening next was miraculous and awesome and exciting. I found my way back through writing and then, on the priceless advice of a dear friend, I found my way to self-publishing.

You might not think discovering my calling as a writer sounds life-changing. And I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. Being an author and a coach is so much bigger than putting words on a page.
Bigger than “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
Bigger than making a living.

Being an author and a coach, for me, is about fulfilling my own Definite Purpose. For me, it's Maktub, an Arabic phrase from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It means: It is written. 

It’s about realizing I have something to contribute to the rest of the world. It’s about connecting. And when all of those things come together, it’s about the RUSH I get. And the complete assurance that I’m right where I’m meant to be.

Now, five years later, I’ve turned that thing that happened, that SHOVE out of my old life, into a PUSH that led to a new life.

I realized I was no longer the same person and not only that, I didn’t want to be. I’d spent too long fitting into "the comfort zone." This pre-conceived idea or space that I thought my life should be.
And I looked that old life in the face and said NO.

This time, it was a choice. I chose to PUSH myself outside my comfort zone and take a chance on my dreams.

I CHOSE ME.

And now, I wake up and choose me every single day and in doing so, I’ve created the life of my DREAMS.

Five years ago, I couldn’t imagine riding or owning a motorcycle—but I do. I couldn’t imagine travelling for pleasure on average every two months or spending ten days in the mountains of Colorado (kid-free) on the back of a motorcycle—but I did! I couldn’t imagine waking up every morning and saying to myself, “Today’s agenda, wherever it fits between the beach and a motorcycle ride, is to write and help other authors sell more books.”

In two weeks I leave for Guam where I’ll live and work for the next two months so that I can spend time with the person I consider the most exciting addition to this life I’ve created. And I can do ALL of my work from there just as easily as I can do it from the shore of eastern Virginia.

This is my outRAGEous life.

A fulfilling and passionate life created out of the ashes of a broken one. Full of a RAGing fire inside me that will never let me quit or give up or move on.

Following your dream is not an easy thing. It’s not comfortable or cozy. It’s messy and scary and probably makes you want to throw up a little. That’s good. If it doesn’t make you nauseous, it’s not big enough.

I hope my story inspires you, nudges you, SHOVES YOU out of the comfort zone you’re hiding in and into the discomfort of PURSUIT of your dreams.

At the very least, go have an adventure—and claim your own outRAGEous life!!


Monday, November 25, 2013

A Zompire Love Story

About three weeks ago, I had the privilege of hanging with my daughter's fifth grade class. I talked to them about what it is I do (sit around in my PJs all day and make money for telling lies--they think that sounds awesome) and how exactly I go about plotting a new story. 
I decided to show them and so we used the white board and our imaginations and we plotted a story of our own. Everyone contributed and when we were finished forty minutes later, we had the coolest concept and even a brand new paranormal species! 
It's so good, I had to share it with you. These kids rock and I had such a blast. Definitely worth putting real pants on! 

This is our story:

A Zompire Love Story

by Mrs. Strohecker's fifth grade class, Birdneck Elementary School


Once there was a very pretty human girl named Britney Spears. She was a cheerleader and was very happy and cheerful all the time. In the same town lived a boy named Jeff Dixon, who had some time ago, been turned into a zombie. How much time, he couldn’t remember exactly. Zombies’ brains were sort of mushy and forgetful. Jeff Dixon played football because, in their town, if you were good at sports, even zombies were accepted on the team—as long as they kept all of their limbs intact. Jeff worked really hard at keeping his arms and legs attached, even when the bigger guys tackled him.
Jeff also played football for another reason. For as far back as his mushy, guts-for-dinner-craving brain could remember, he was in love with Britney Spears. At practice, he would stare at her across the field. Her pleated skirt and sunny smile always made his dead emotions flicker to life. Sometimes she would pass by him on the way to the locker room. He would time it just right and pretend to bump her, but every time, he would only manage a stuttered, “Sorry,” before she’d skip off to her waiting friends.
Jeff wished his legs wouldn’t fall off if he tried to keep up as she ran away.
One day, Britney didn’t run off. In fact, it looked like it was she who slowed down and waited for him. She slowed down and matched her slow pace to his as they headed to the locker rooms. When she said hello and smiled, it felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach—maybe it had. He’d heard of that happening to other zombies.
Britney started waiting for Jeff every day after practice. Soon, they began hanging out on the weekends. Britney was so happy and cheerful, it made Jeff feel better. Britney loved how Jeff’s jokes made her laugh.
One night, after Jeff walked Britney to her door, he leaned in and kissed her. He waited for her to yell or complain but she didn’t. She kissed him back. From that day on, Jeff kissed Britney whenever he could. He liked kissing her more than he liked football. It made Britney nervous but she liked Jeff a lot and so she kissed him anyway.

One day, Jeff kissed Britney so hard that he lost control. His zombie senses took over and he accidentally bit down on her face. Britney screamed and ran home but it was too late. The next morning, Britney woke up a zombie. She tried to forgive Jeff and so she kissed him again the next day, but this time her jaw fell off. Britney cried and began running home. Jeff got so upset, he tried to run after her, but his leg fell off and he couldn’t reach her.
Britney was devastated. She broke up with Jeff and told him she never wanted to speak again.
A few weeks later, a new boy came to school. His name was Trevor Smith and he was a vampire. He was really cute and nice to Britney. He didn’t even care that she was a zombie with a re-attached jaw. Soon, Britney became Trevor’s girlfriend.
Jeff watched the two of them and even watched Trevor when Britney wasn’t around. He knew Trevor was evil and that he only pretended to be good for Britney. Jeff tried warning Britney but she wouldn’t listen. One day, Trevor caught Jeff spying on him and got angry. Trevor walked up to Jeff and threatened him saying, “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you leave.”
Jeff looked at Britney and knew he couldn’t back down. He said, “No.”
Trevor lunged at Jeff and they began to fight. Britney yelled for them to stop but they didn’t listen. Soon, Jeff’s arm fell off and Trevor pinned him on the ground. Britney yelled again, begging him not to hurt Jeff any more. Trevor looked at her and said, “I don’t care about him—or anyone else.” And Britney knew Jeff was right; Trevor was evil.
Britney shoved Trevor and Jeff crawled free and did the only thing he could do to win: he bit Trevor. Trevor screamed and bit down on Jeff’s arm, but it was too late. Zombie bites were like poison to vampires and Trevor shook and fell down and died.
Jeff shivered in the corner and when Britney went to help, she could see something different about him. His eyes were red like a vampire but his skin and organs were still dead like a zombie.
“Jeff, what’s happening?” Britney asked.
“I think I’m both now,” he said.
“So, like, a … zompire?”
“Yes. A Zompire,” Jeff said.
“I don’t care. I love you anyway,” said Britney.
Britney kissed Jeff and helped him reattach his arm and they lived happily ever after, a zombie and a zompire.


The End

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Inhale Exhale


Inhale Exhale, a New Adult Contemporary romance from my friend, Sarah M. Ross, releases May 7th.   I can't wait for this one and she offered us a sneak peek today!

Check out the BLURB:
Jillian had a plan: celebrate the end of her first year of college with an amazing summer full of beaches, barbeques, and bonfires. When her mom insists she needs a summer job, and her boyfriend spends more time with his band than with her, Jillian’s plans go down the drain. 

Grant had a plan: finish his Masters, get a great job at Google, and get the hell out of Georgia. He might be giving up some of the fun of his youth, but he knows his all work and no play method would be worth it when his dreams came true.

But things never go according to plan. 

When temptation brings them together and tragedy tears them apart, Jillian and Grant will be forced to choose: fight for their dreams, or fight for each other.





Wanna read more? Here’s an excerpt:
“Are you sure you’re not breaking it just so I can come back out here? Cause if you want to see me, you don’t have to break expensive equipment to get my attention,” Grant asked earlier that day.
It was the third time I’d had to call IT, and the third time I’d gotten to see the mischievous smile on his face as he walked toward me.
“No, I promise you. I really am this dumb.” I winked playfully, allowing myself to flirt for a minute. It was harmless, right? I’d never actually act on it.
“I’m pretty sure the fact you can say that sentence in several other languages suggests otherwise.”
Sono davvero questo stupido,” I repeated in Italian.
Grant ran a knuckle down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps along the path. “Beautiful,” he said in a whispered breath. My own breathing hitched at his words. “See? Like I said, not a dumb bone in you.”
The all-too-familiar blush crept back onto my face. “You don’t know me that well.”
“I’d like to change that. What are you doing tonight? A bunch of us from work are going to this beach party. I’d love it if you could come.”
For a moment, I pictured myself there. Laughing and having fun around a bonfire and splashing in the ocean. Grant in his board shorts that would hang low, revealing that deep V I was sure was there. But then I snapped out of it, remembering how inappropriate my thoughts were. “I have a boyfriend. I can’t.”
“It’s not a date, Jillian. Just a group of friends hanging out.” He packed up his supplies, but paused before leaving. He stared deeply into my eyes, making my palms sweat. Leaning in close, he whispered in my ear. “If I were asking you out, it wouldn’t be with a group of people. It would be only us—alone—so I wouldn’t have anything distracting me from admiring every nook and cranny on your beautiful face, Cupcake.”
I swallowed down the lump that formed in my throat. My mouth had gone dry; I was unable to form a thought, let alone words.
“Here.” He reached out and gently took my hand. “I’ll do this old school since you don’t like technology.”
My mouth opened, but I couldn’t respond. I stared at him as he took out a pen. He picked up my tiny hand, which shook slightly, and held it in his own. The contact was slight, but powerful. I was frozen in place as he wrote on my palm. The only movement came from my heart that pounded in my chest. Before he let go, he gently blew on the ink to help it dry, causing me to emit the faintest of moans.
“In case you change your mind,” he whispered, then winked and walked away.


Be sure to add this to your Goodreads page:

To find out more about Sarah and her books, stalk her here: