Caddy Rowland's Blog: Writer of Fiction, Painter of Life and Energy, page 20

There are so many things to choose from in regard to lifestyle.  I could blog on lifestyle for days, but instead how about if I list some of my likes and dislikes and then you give me some of yours?  These will be random, from leisure to spiritual to whatever.

First of all, for leisure I really like to paint, play cards, hike and walk in the woods, interact with my parrots, watch movies, and get together with friends. Plays and art galleries are also great. 

I HATE bowling.  Bowling is just plain boring. I would rather stick toothpicks under my fingernails than bowl.  I also dislike watching hockey.  Yawn. Oh, and is there anything more dull than looking at picture after picture of someone's friends or relatives and you don't know a single one of them?  A few pics, fine.  An album? Spare me (that was thrown in for you bowling fans).




I dislike bed & breakfasts.  Most smell like mildew and are decorated like an 80 year old spinster sleeps in the room. Not exactly fantasy inspiring for your man.  Sex with grandma?  Um, no thanks. When getting away for a weekend with my husband, the last thing I want is walls as thin as cardboard and breakfast at a table with a bunch of strangers I am never going to see again.  Call me crazy, but a weekend away with my husband can be spent in a passtime much more fun than quiche and muffins with Joe from Iowa. Before you criticize my choice, consider that the same man has stayed with me for decades.  I must know something about favorite passtimes.

Nor do I enjoy camping.  Um, no thanks.  Although, if I had to camp I would rather bathe in a lake and poop in the woods then use a public shower and toilet.  Sorry.  Not gonna happen.  Give me a whirlpool tub and a bottle of wine or don't ask me to leave my home overnight.  And not in some creaky old bed & breakfast either.

I am spiritual but dislike organized religion.  God clubs don't ring true to me, and usually the people most active in them don't either. Enjoy your club, but don't ask me to become a member or try to scare me into joining. "Believing" out of fear is not faith. It is only being a coward. Check out the definition of "cult". Sound familiar? Had plenty of experience with organized religion in the past. Not happening .  God, or the energy source, knows me.  I know it and I know how to commune with it. End of story. 

I like art that makes me think; be it a painting, movie, book, etc.  It also needs to  cause an emotional reaction.  Does not matter if that reaction is positive or negative, just move me. What do I dislike in art? Well, one of my artist friends had a t-shirt that said "Good art does not match your living room furniture."  I think that about sums it up.

Since I am an indie author, I will also mention what I like to read.  Same as what I listed above for art.  Move me.  Make me think. Don't give me a formula story. People seldom live happily ever after. Don't pretty it up, tell it real. I can take it; I am an adult.

Lastly, and probably most importantly: I love ice cream and buttered popcorn. The reason?  If you have to ask, you must be in a coma.  Some nights I have both.  Yep, I need to lose weight. No one gets out of here alive.

How about you?  Come on, tell it.  I would like to know more about you. Oh, by the way, pass the salt.

As an indie writer, I need to be aware of differences in personality in order to make sure that all of my work does not have the same main character.  I thought it would be fun to share the different things I like and don't like, and then ask you to let me know yours.  This will be broken into different blogs. Today I am talking about what traits make you want to associate with someone and what traits make you want to bop them in the mouth or run away.

One of my biggest turn-offs in regard to hanging with someone is inability to make a decision. Come on, man, choose! I can understand something huge and life changing needing a bit of thought, but what ice cream flavor to get?  This is not going to make or break the rotation of the planet. I find myself avoiding hesitant people as much as possible. For me, their inability to make a decision is like fingernails on a chalkboard.

I will admit that I make decisions too quickly at times.  That has caused some big mistakes in my life.  On the other hand, I learned some valuable things from those mistakes.  The things I learned help me make similar decisions better - and still quickly! If someone thinks so little of their ability to choose that they fool around for a substantial amount of time, I am outa there.  By the time they finally choose ice cream, I have had a cone, a night's sleep, and have worked a full day.

How about people that have to go into extreme detail?  I don't care to know the color and pattern of the drapes in your Aunt's home.  Just cut to the broken leg. Can you tell that I am a person that likes things to move along?

Liars also drive me crazy. What is the point about lying about what you had to eat last night? Or what clothes you bought last Saturday?  I don't get it.  Then, when you point out that they said one thing, but did another, guess what?  They are offended and ask if you are calling them a liar.  Yes!  I am!


Oh God...don't get me started with braggers.  ZZZZZZZZZ.  Need I say more?



What turns me on to a friendship? Someone who knows who they are, but does not shove it down my throat.  They express their opinion and then listen to mine.  Listening is a rare gift few of us have learned.  I know I could stand some improvement there.  I bet almost all of us could.

I also like people who don't treat service workers rudely.  People who are not the loudest person in the bar or restaurant.  And people who actually remember to ask about life events that come up. In other words, I like people who treat others like they want to be treated. 

Most of all, I like people who have an open mind and are inquisitive about where we come from, why we are here and where we are going. That makes for interesting conversations and wonderful possibilities.


What about you?  What traits appeal to you and which ones don't?

As an indie author of fiction, even I would find it beyond the realm of possibility that a man could still be walking around free after shooting Trayvon Martin.Yet, the fact remains that George Zimmerman is not arrested.Why?

We all know why. George is white, Trayvon was black and it happened in the gold ol' red necked South. My apologies to those who live down South and have actually moved past the War Between the States. I know many fine people who live there. Unfortunately, many others down there still believe that any black person walking the streets is up to no good. Although racism exists all over the country, the South has more than its fair share of bigots.


Which brings me to another question.  Why do states allow gun laws that say you can shoot if you feel reasonably threatened? Who determines that someone is able to be reasonable? Listen, before you get all up in arms (pardon the pun), think about this: When I was 13 I was almost raped by a male with black hair and blue eyes.It took until I was about 30 to not feel threatened every single time I saw a man with that color hair and eyes.That might seem over the top, but unless you have been raped I don't think you can form a legitimate opinion about my fear.


If any of those black haired, blue eyed boys or men got too close to me on the sidewalk or in a building, my heart pounded. I started to sweat. I wanted to scream. Just imagine how many black haired, blue eyed men I could have shot in 17 years. I was walking around, legally sane, and scared out of my wits by them. Boom. Sorry. You simply had the wrong color of hair and eyes. How many people do you think walk around every day looking reasonable, with unreasonable fears?

However, a hoodie did not cause Trayvon Martin to lose his life. Nor did reasonable fear. Prejudice did, and a vigilante that had illusions of becoming Clint Eastwood. George Zimmerman should be in jail. Shame on us. We should all know better, and we should all demand justice for Trayvon's family, along with tougher gun laws.

The killing of Trayvon Martin does not make me ashamed of being white.  It makes me ashamed of being human.

This indie author has a few little things that kind of irk her and I am betting all of you do, too.  They are not anything important in the scheme of things, and certainly they don't ruin my day.  Still, when these things happen I have to grit my teeth, shake my head and brush them off.

One of them is when I get in my car after having it parked somewhere outside and there is a big splotch of bird poop on the window.  If it is not on the drivers side I can wait until a car wash.  But, if it is in the way, don't you hate how it smears around when you use the wiper washer?  I am talking a huge blotch, from a gull of something.   Yellows, greens and browns stick harder than crazy glue to the glass, even after using the wiper/washer.  Yuck.

Another is every single time I order a salad in a restaurant.  Not an entree salad, but a side salad. I don't know why, but I always, ALWAYS get part of the lettuce core in my salad.  Friends of mine say they never get that.  Yet, when they go out with me, there it is-right in my salad.  I swear to God restaurants across the country save up cores just in case Caddy Rowland decides to come in and order. "Here she comes," they laugh gleefully.  "Pull out those old rusty cores we've been keepin' in the back room.  She loves 'em!"

I also dislike it when I bite into a chocolate only to find it has some lame fruit jelly or pink crap inside of it.  When they are my chocolates I punch in the bottoms to check.  Can't hardly do that when it is someone else's box of chocolates.  Who in the world wishes for a chocolate with gummy jelly inside of it?  Is there anyone who likes those? They must be the same people who like fruitcake.  Exactly.  No one.

The worst little thing that makes me slightly irritated is when I am drying off from a bath or shower and the end of my towel gets in the water.  There is something so dismaying about seeing part of your towel soaking wet, drip drip dripping into the tub. I think towels should have those back up alarms installed that garbage trucks have.  Except the alarm would go off when the towel moves forward toward the water.  Once the towel gets to 1/2 inch of the water the alarm should sound.  End of problem.

As you can see, none of these are big deals.  They don't put me in a big ol' bad mood or ruin my day...but they slightly irritate me.  What are some of yours? Hey, if you tell me, I promise to share my jelly filled chocolates with you.

As in indie author, I really look for ways to stoke my imagination.  One of my facebook friends used to ask cool questions almost every day that forced me to get my brain revved.  One was the question I am going to ask you today.  Then I will tell you my answer.  (Thanks, Kevin!)

If you could marry anyone no longer living that was famous, who would it be and why? It can be any time period in the past and it can be same sex as you or opposite.

Being an artist, this one was easy for me.  I absolutely adore Picasso's work.  I always feel silly saying it.  Why? Because it seems like people who don't know much about art but want to pretend to, at least know Picasso and will say he is their favorite.  But, he really is mine. Second would be his friend Braque. In fact, lots of times they would paint the same subject matter side by side.  Sometimes I like Braque's better.
                                     (Violin and Candlestick by Braque)
I know, I know.  Picasso was known to be an a-hole and a womanizer.  Hey, I have to tell ya...if I had the choice I would much rather be his mistress than his wife.  But the question does not allow that. It asks who you would marry.  Therefore, I would marry him.
                   (Portrait of Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler by Picasso)
There are no romantic or sexual reasons for this. My God, just think of what I could have learned from him about painting! To paint along with him and learn from him would be one of the greatest gifts a person could be given. I have a very strong personality so I would have insisted.  No sitting in the background for me.  He would have taught me or listened to me bitch day and night.

That said, we may not have lived long.  At least, not both of us.  I am sure we would have fought.  A lot. He was passionate and opinionated  I am...passionate and opinionated. Quite possibly one of us would have done the other in during a particularly heated round of arguing.

But until that happened, what bliss to paint with Pablo.  I would have even put up with his mistresses to learn from him.  Besides, while he was away at play I could have had my own dalliances.  There were several other artists I would not have minded "brushing" into. Ah, yes. You need some time away from the studio?  No problem, dear.  Don't hurry home.  And when you come home, bring more paint.

As an indie author it should not surprise anyone that I am, well, independent. I have always questioned authority.  Maybe it was growing up in the 60's, when the mantra was "never trust anyone over 30".  I am way past 30 now, but I still question anyone who blindly follows rules instead of using common sense.

It is not that I want anarchy. Rules are great-when they make sense. And, sometimes, they should be broken.  A good case in point: people working in the accounts receivable division for medical companies.

Several years ago I was very ill.  In fact, I could have died.  The bills mounted.  No one could figure out what was wrong.  Eventually, we ended up filing bankruptcy. I tried and tried to talk to various people about  payment plans.  To them, a payment plan was 25% each month or nothing.
Well, they got nothing.  Am I proud of that?  No.  Nor am I ashamed. It was interesting how many calls we got once the bankruptcy notices went out.  All of a sudden people were interested in just pennies on the dollar.  They could have had all of the money, had they worked with us instead of making life hell with their renegade collection efforts.



Then a few years ago I had another medical bill for $400.00.  I had just received the bill in the last week of September and the company I contracted with folded up without warning in October.  Trying to do the right thing, I called the clinic and explained that I was out of work, but looking.  I would send $100 that day and then have it paid off by December 31st if I found work right away.  Otherwise I would call them and work something out. "Geat! No problem, thanks for calling," he said.

I found work, but not the same month.  I started in November and it took a couple of weeks to get paid. I still hoped to be able to pay, but as December reared it's head it became obvious that I would not be able to pony up $300 that month.  It is hard going from two incomes to one without notice even for a month. I called them and told them I would pay $100 and then pay monthly.  This call happened around the 5th of December. I sent the check, which they happily cashed.

Imagine my surprise when I got a call (from the same man) around the 20th..asking me when I planned on paying.  I explained that I had already talked to him and sent $100.  He then said that I told him originally that I would pay in full by the 31st.  I shot back that I had been decent enough to call him by the 5th and explain that I couldn't.  He told me that was not their policy and that I could fill out the papers he had sent for a payment plan (with interest).  I refused. 

I then said, "First of all, even if I had not called you, you just admitted that I had said I would pay in full by the 31st.  What calendar do you use that the 20th is the same as the 31st?  I would be damn irritated had I been meaning to pay by the 31st and gotten this call."  It was policy. I then said, "Well, I bet you were happy to cash the $100 I sent you.  I am more than happy for you to come over and look under our Christmas tree to see how many gifts we have purchased. You will find a tree with zero gifts under it.  Yet, we took our obligation to you seriously enough to send you $100."  He again stated that a verbal or assumed payment plan was not their policy.  I hung up.

In January, I sent $50.  Nasty letters about sending the balance to a collection agency arrived. In February, I sent $50.  Another letter, followed up by a phone call.  Same person.  Now I was really mad.  "Seriously? You are hassling me in THIS economy (Feb. 2009) over $100, with a record of paying off $300 of the total bill?  I can't believe you don't have people who owe more than $100 that you should spend your time with."   He started in again about filling out paperwork for payments. 



I had enough.  "Listen," I said. "You have finally crossed the line to totally pissing me off.  I have heard enough about your policies.  Now you listen to mine.  Here it is.  I could now easily send you $100.  I am not going to. I am going to send you $50 in March and $50 in April and it will be paid. UNLESS, and this is key, you call me up or send me another collection letter. Because here is the Rowland policy: When you refuse to use common sense and won't work with us when we are doing our best, we take action. So here's the deal: If you call or send a letter between now and the end of March, I will cut the amount I send in half to $25. Then, if you call or send me anything in April, the April payment will be cut in half again, to $12.50.  I don't give a damn if I end up paying a dime a month for the rest of my life.  THAT is the Rowland policy."

Silence.  I continued.  "You might think it smart to send this to a collection agency.  If you want only half of the money, because they will keep half, please do so.  The payments will remain the same as I mentioned. And if you want to do something to our credit, take your best shot.  It is ruined anyway.  Really, nothing can scare me in your "policy" manual.  But I will tell you one thing.  You should be ashamed for treating someone this way over a $400 bill that has been reduced over five months to $100.   Let's see: $100 in Oct.  $100 in Dec. $50 in Jan. $50 in Feb. I am wondering how conciliation court would view your pitiful attempts to show me in the wrong. And, by the way, please take notes and post them with our account so everyone there knows that I am done fooling around with you." I hung up.

No more calls or letters. The bill was paid as I said. $50 in March. $50 in April. The Rowland Policy did it's job. As a sign that I have posted on my facebook page says: You can't fix stupid, but you can numb it with a 2 x 4.

As an indie author, I have become familiar with all of the paranormal authors that are out there. Vampires, werewolves, witches, fairies...the sky is the limit. The paranormal genre is extremely popular. So, do you believe in magic?

I do.  I am not talking about the abracadabra type of magic.  I am talking about the real magic that occurs in everyday life.  The magic that is easily missed, unless you take the time to live the moment.

One of the best magic moments of my life was the first time my husband, Dave, kissed me.  I was very young, but I had kissed other boys before.  For the first time, the lips touching mine held promise.  In just a few seconds, they told me that I was truly special and that the boy who owned those lips cherished that.  He would protect me and honor me.  He would see me as an equal. Those lips were warm with promise.  Magic.



Then there was the time that I had read a book explaining that if you really want to make something happen, you need to believe it already has.  Not just wish.  Believe.  It was the oddest thing.  All of a sudden I knew that I was working in the field I had been banging my head against for months, getting nowhere.  The next morning, the phone rang.  They made me an independent contractor in a field I had no experience in, with no degree.  Magic.  Even better, I excelled.  For sixteen years I worked that business and I shined.  I had a 98% client retention rate.  Magic.

Then there was last night.  Last night, we babysat our grandson Gideon.  When he arrived, he only had eyes for Dave.  A little hurt at first, I was all of a sudden glad. Gideon does not get much time with Dave because when I babysit Fridays Dave is at work until the very last part of Gideon's time here.
Gideon''s happiness with his Gampa Dave and the excitement of Dave's watch made me smile. Gideon played for quite some time with Dave's arm and watch (Gideon is now seven months old).

Then, all of a sudden, as I sat on the opposite end of the couch and watched, it happened.  The love between Dave and Gideon actually glowed around them. I could feel the warmth, like the warmth from that long ago kiss. As I looked at Gideon I saw pure, innocent delight.  As I gazed at Dave, I saw pure, unconditional love; a love so strong it took my breath away.

Magic. In it's simplest, most potent form.

What a morning. I had an appointment to have $1,000 worth of work done on my car today.  I was to bring the car in at 8am so that they could have it done by the end of the day.  No big deal, right?

Wrong.  I decided it would be nice to just pay cash.  Why?  I don't know.  I wish I could figure out why I thought that would be advantageous, but I can't. I hopped in the car to go to the ATM machine at the bank.  Again, no big deal.

Ah, but it was.  "Murphy" was with me this moring. As I pulled in, I noticed that an armored truck was there servicing the ATM machine.  That's cool.  No big deal. There I sat until another car got behind me.  Now I could not turn around. After about ten minutes the truck pulled away.  I am not sure what all they do to ATM's but I am pretty sure there must be quite a few things to check over.  Confident that all was well, I pulled in.


I tried to get $1,000 but the machines won't let you get that much.  Those machines must be the only place left in the world where $1,000 still means a lot of money.  I decided to still get some cash.  My cash got belched out and I waited to get my card.  Hmmmm......like I said, I waited......

The screen had froze.  It kept asking me to enter an amount.  Of course, since I had taken the maximum I could take, whatever I typed in was rejected.  Then it would ask again.  I tried to cancel.  No dice.  This machine was having none of that.  Ask for some money, dammit!  Over and over I tried to cancel, tried to enter any amount at all, just to get the screen to do something. Hey, even if smoke started coming out it would have been progress.

The guy behind me started to impatient.  I know what he was thinking.  Dumb broad can't even work an ATM.  I was pulled so close to the machine (so that the world would not see my password as I typed it) that I could not stick my head out.  Finally I yelled out the window, "The machine is stuck and won't give me back my card!"  He got the message and peeled into reverse.

I drove around and parked in the lot so that I could go in.  Of course, the bank doors were locked.  Sigh. Getting back in, blood pressure now 200 over 115 I drove up to the teller window in the drive through.  After explaning what had happened, she told me that my card was now shredded because I drove away!  That automatically happens. Huh?  What was I supposed to do?  Sit there and order flowers for the ATM?  Sing soft love songs in hopes that  it would soften up and release my key to the financial world?


A new card is ordered but it takes a week.  She "said" I would keep my same number.  We will see.  Oh, and she said she would not charge me for it.  Really?  You won't charge me for this exhilarating experience with technology?  Oh, gee, how very generous of you. 

I got to the appontment late, but all is well.  Surgery is being performed on my car, my blood pressure is back to normal, and I am ready to continue writing the first darft of the third book in my series.

Maybe I should try to get ahold of Stephen King.  He wrote about a possessed car named Christine.  He could give me some pointers for a horror story about a sociopathic ATM on Suburban Av. in St Paul, MN.

Since one of the responsibilities of an indie author is finding good places to advertise, I am always on the look out for new avenues.  Kindle Fire Department was brought to my attention on kindleboards.com a few months ago.

This site features their "book of the day" (you pay a slight fee for that), plus highlights various free books daily. Once you ask to become the book of the day they look over your book to make sure it is compatible for Kindle Fire and that it fits their standards.  Books that become the book of the day also are more likely to be mentioned later as a free book if you do decide to offer it free in the future.

My first book, Gastien Part 1: The Cost of the Dream is going to be the book of the day today.  I m excited to see how much exposure this gets me.  I have heard great things from others who have had books featured ahead of me. Go Gastien!  Go Kindle Fire Dept!

There are very few places where it pays to buy advertising for you book.  Another that is highly successful is Pixel of Ink.  I did very well there last month.  However, they are booked for months in advance.  Your book must have a certain number of reviews, a certain average, they must like the cover and description, etc.

Ereader News Today is another I have heard is great.  Again, I believe they are booked through most (if not all) of this year.  I would like to try them in the future.

I know it is hard to know where you should spend money as an indie (or if you should spend money at all).  Those are the three that I have heard great things about.  There was one other, but so far this year it is no longer doing well.  I don't want to mention the name because I don't want to be negative about it in case it rebounds.  If it does, you will likely hear me talk about it in the future.

You will have to wait quite some time to get on any of the three mentioned above but it will be worth it. Since I have a series, my first book will always be in the process of being promoted, so the wait matters even less to me.



Please note: these are NOT reviews for your books. I would never pay for a review nor should you. Readers are not impressed if they find out you paid for reviews nor should they be. How can a review not be biased if you paid for it?


Good luck with marketing your books.  It can be challenging but it is always fun.

What if just for one day you slowed down and put others first, even when it was inconvenient? Even those who are not family or friends? What if, as you drove to work, you let two cars merge ahead of you instead of one?  Or one, if you are the type of ahole who never lets another in?

What if at work you let your co-workers know how important their job is to making everything work better around the office, or the lab, or the store?  What if you let someone go to break ahead of you? Or in line at the cafeteria?

What if at the grocery store you allowed the person behind you to move ahead of you, no matter how many groceries they had?  What if you helped the person after  you with bagging theirs up?

What if in the drive through you paid for food for the car behind you?  Just once? 

What if, just for one day, you put others first every time you had the opportunity?  Not saying you should do this all of the time...just for one day.


What if?