Midnight Playground is Available for ordering or downloading!!!

Archway: http://bookstore.archwaypublishing.com/Products/SKU-001038918/Midnight-Playground.aspx

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Playground-Simone-M-Richards/dp/1480836672/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1478548467&sr=8-1&keywords=%09Midnight+Playground

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/midnight-playground-simone-m-richards/1125041350?ean=9781480836679

BookFinder4u (shows all current online links):http://www.bookfinder4u.com/IsbnSearch.aspx?isbn=1480836672&mode=direct

Here it is... my debut novel! Happy reading! 

Midnight Playground: Where the Soul Plays is at the publishers!!!

Last week I sent my publishing team the manuscript.  It is now in the content review and editorial assessment stage.  Holy Cow!!!

As soon as I hit the "send" button, I felt like throwing up.  My stomach was tied in a million knots and my arm pits started sweating.  This is my physical reaction when I'm excited and scared and nervous all at the same time.  I was thankful I had already booked a 4:30 yoga class as I needed it desperately to calm my insides and quiet my mind.  I was so happy to be doing side planks even though the are not my most favorite pose.  However, my mind had to stay focused on the plank at hand which was a relief from the constant chatter of my meandering mind.

As I left the studio after class, I felt much calmer and more in control.  I felt again aligned with the universe and what is supposed to happen in my life.  It was a huge step sending off the manuscript.  I feel good.  I know I have a LOT of work ahead of me to promote Midnight Playground: Where the Soul Plays and to get people interested in reading it.  I also feel deep down in my gut that it is going to be a LOT of fun!

In the week since I have tackled some home improvement projects and made progress on my to-do list.  You know, things that piled up (including my laundry) while I was focused on the book.  It feels good to reclaim all of my spaces (emotional, physical, internal and external).  And I'm ready to start finishing my other two books (Purg-a-Tory and 4199)... Life is good. :-)

My new reality is around the corner

Yeah! I did it. Finished the book. Been revising and editing for what seems like ages now. I've had three rounds of beta-readers and have absorbed all they suggested. Only one person didn't like it; but she still had valid comments. Now I'm finalizing the artwork, prepping the website, filling out paperwork, drawing up intellectual property contracts and generally feeling giddy about the future. It's really happening. My intention to live my life as a published author is only a few months away. It's going to be so much fun.

In between book stuff, I've been looking for a car for my Rockstar, working at my suddenly politically sensitive and busy "real job", managing to stay sane during club soccer season, doing lots of yoga (one year in so far and my body has really changed and it's no longer in constant pain -big smiles here!!), dieting and down 40 pounds since August...working on last 20. Love my life.

In the midst of all my wonderful happiness though are reminders that life is short and so unfair. I've lost two friends in the last six weeks to different medical issues: heart attack and colon cancer (yikes that's close to home!). Both men left behind kids and families that dearly loved them and a community that misses them tremendously. Both were musicians and when I heard of David Bowie's death today, I visualized them all making heavenly music together and it made me happy.

Love fully, love richly, love now
~the Philosopher

Two years hence...

Wow! I went on vacation to the lake house & didn't blog once! What does that mean? And the two-year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis was last week & I didn't write  about that either! What does this say about me & where I am right now in my life? Should I be concerned?

I don't think so. I'm very busy writing & editing my first book that I'm publishing hopefully around valentines day. I'm dealing with a lot on that project which will explain the blogging deficit. But the cancer thing, that is weird especially since my quarterly blood test is Wednesday and I'm nervous as usual. Can't sleep well & get the night sweats frequently now. I'm hoping it's only menopause (early onset, chemo-induced you know)... I'll know more Wednesday. Until then, I'll keep busy moving forward with life. I won't make mountains out of a mole hill, at least not this mole hill.

Cheers xx
-the Philosopher

Update: Good visit with oncologist.  All blood tests came back great.  My CEA levels are 1.1 lowest in a year (not that 1.3 and 1.4 are very high mind you especially when anything under 5 is considered normal).  They think the pain I'm feeling in my upper left abdomen is merely functional and related to the healing process from the colon resection surgery from almost two years ago.  In addition, I don't have to go back until January.  I am now on the six-month rotation instead of every three months... NICE!!!

There were no molehills nor mountains, it's all good.

Look at it with me.

She whispered to me, "Are you looking at the moon?"  I shook my head no. 

She said "Look at it.  Look at it with me." 

I didn't want to look at the moon.  I didn't want to be reminded of the distance between us.  "I'm in bed already," I replied.  And I was. I was snuggled up with my duvet around my neck.  If I got out of bed, the cold air would hit me, another sharp reminder of our distance.  I had had too many reminders of that lately.

"I love looking at the moon," She replied smiling at me.  "It is so beautiful and full tonight.  I can't keep my eyes off it."   "Please, Fox, just come to the window and look at it quickly.  You will be blown away."

"Okay," I replied hesitantly. "But it's gonna be quick. It's so cold."

"Thank you," she whispered.  She looked at me with her big blue eyes and wrinkled her nose like an excited young girl. "Come now, come. Look.  What do you think?"

I got out of bed, hurried to my window.  I pushed back the curtains and twisted my head upwards.  There it was shining brightly against the black sky, the moon.  And it was full. I stood there looking at it for minutes.  I tried to look away but my eyes wanted to see more of it.  My heart wanted to gaze on it forever.  My soul warmed under the light of the moon.  I didn't notice the cold.

"What do you think?" She asked again.  "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes, it is. So very much." I replied. 

"You know, when I look at the moon, I see love.  It's like my love for you flows up to the moon and then she beams it back down on you and vice versa.  And for a while, I am bathed in your shining love." she said.

"But we are so distant and have been.  How can you feel my love?" I asked her without taking my gaze off the moon.

"I just do.  I don't know how to explain it other than love is one of those wondrous gifts of the universe and the moon makes sure lovers feel it.  We can be miles and miles apart but we always see the same moon."  She paused while she returned her gaze upward.

"And," she continued, "when we look at the moon at the same time, our love is shared instantly.  No waiting till it gets dark or adjusting for time differences.  It's right then, right there, the moon beaming to each of us."  She smiled and wiped a tear.

I looked at her.  I looked at the moon.  It was shining so bright, I could see for miles in the dark.  I hadn't ever thought of the moon as beaming love to the world, much less her love for me being beamed straight to me.  I liked it.  I smiled.  I reached my hand up to the moon and touched the window pane.  "I'm touching her with my love," I thought.  "She feels it."

"Thank you for looking at the moon with me tonight, for listening and for beaming your love to me," she said with a toss of her head and a smile.  "I have gathered it up and am storing it for the future."

I looked at her smiling face and kissed it.  I didn't know what else to say; I just gazed at her.  I didn't notice the distance.  For this moment it was gone.  There was just her, myself, the moon and our love.

"Let's look again tomorrow, yes?" I said.

"And every night." she whispered.

Delicious Ambiguity

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. - Gilda Radner

I wanted the perfect ending too. I wanted to have the perfect life. I wanted others to envy my life like I envied theirs. I was jealous of the happiness that seemed to be everywhere but in my soul. So I mimicked. I tried to replicate what I saw others doing. But no matter how I succeeded in following the paint-by-numbers direction, no matter how ‘beautiful’ I made it all appear, I was not having the perfect life nor the perfect ending. The happiness eluded me. And I cried, quietly and softly, inside for years. With every attempt to renovate failing though, my tears got less and less and resignation set in. My heart’s desire to be happy extinguished. No use continuing to try to appear perfect or to strive for that perfect ending I saw everyone else having. Life for me was always going to be gray with the occasional fleeting bursts of sunshine. Because no matter how hard I tried it wasn’t working. Why were others happy and I wasn’t?

My first memory of trying to manufacture or manipulate happiness was back in high school, I successfully stepped in and filled the shoes of a beloved classmate whom everyone loved. She had it all, I thought. She was blonde. Vivacious, outgoing, happy. She made you feel that the moments she spent with you were as valuable to her as it was to you. I wanted to be her. So when she moved, I did all the things that she did. I did the same activities. I even ran the same sport in track. And it worked. At the end of the next year, a boy, whom I had a crush on, commented to me that I reminded him of her. And I was thrilled but also sad because even though I had succeeded in becoming LIKE her. I still was NOT her. And I NEVER would be. I would always be Michelle. I couldn’t ever be anyone different. So I decided that I wanted people to like ME for who I was not for whom I made them think about.

(You might think that was the only lesson I needed to learn about manufacturing happiness. But no, I need multiple lessons before brilliance sets in.)

So for the next 20 years I didn’t try to be anyone but myself. BUT I followed the instructions laid out for me by many previous generations and influences in my life. I tried to amass those things that were necessary to make me happy to give me the perfect life, the perfect ending. Where people could look at my family’s photo and think, “Wow. What a great looking family! They look so happy!” I graduated high school (with grand hopes for my future), went to college on scholarship (still hopeful), got married (cause that’s what you did and everyone else was doing it and they seemed happy), went to graduate school on scholarship (having multiple degrees means you’re smart which if you’re smart, you have to be happy), had one baby (because people who were happy had children), started creating my career path (earning money naturally makes you happy) , bought a house (a mortgage means you are grown up and grown ups are happy), had another baby (mothers with multiple children are, naturally, happier than those with just one), got another job (earning more money had to bring me happiness), bought a bigger house (I had to live on this one particular street because every time I walked on it, everyone there seemed so happy), got a dog (pets are important for happiness, I read it in a magazine.), got laid off (oh wait, what about the money equaling happiness part?), saw less and less of my husband (oh wait, I’m raising two kids basically on my own. I’m still not feeling happy and now I’m getting angry), got another job but on a different career path (I could make everything right again if I were employed; life would have to get easier and happiness would then come), had another baby (another child would be the perfect antidote to the misery that was enveloping my life; the child would make me happy), and I began screaming and raging inside because my ‘perfect life’ was far from it and I didn’t want that ‘perfect life’. Happiness had eluded me at every turn and at every attempt so far. I woke up from my years of resignation and knew there had to be more to life than I was getting. And I was determined to change my path. My perfect ending, my perfect life was not what anyone else could describe or plan out for me. It was inside me the whole time. I had just been afraid of living it. I didn’t know where it was going to take me but I knew that it was going to be perfect… for me.