If This is It

*I debated where to post this, but as my friends, fellow writers, and/or readers, it's important that you know*

A couple of things happened this weekend that have me reevaluating my concussion recovery. Saturday, before he left for work, Bryan turned to me and said, “What if where you’re at now is the most you recover? What if this becomes your new normal?”

What if it does? The neurologist told me recovery takes 3 to 6 months. My nurse cousin-in-law told me it takes the brain tissue about 6 months to heal after an injury. I can look back and say I’m far improved from last August, but at the same time I’m frustrated by the symptoms I still have. Such as:

1.       Anxiety. This one has been the worst because it’s new. I’ve never been good in crowds, but now I fight panic at the grocery store. It gets overwhelming really fast—too many people, too many lights, too much noise, etc. Also the stress is making my hair fall out. This happened to me about eight years ago (major personal stressor, not TBI) and my hair started falling out then, too. But I’m older and have a lot less now, so, naturally, that increases my stress.

2.       Brain to mouth disconnect. I think one word and say another. I could just as easily tell my child to bring me an elephant from the cupboard or a cookie. Mostly it’s just annoying, and can be amusing. But when I’m really struggling to get a thought out and can’t it’s frustrating. Or if I’m in a time crunch (say, I have to yell at someone to get out of the way of danger), I could very well say “turkey trot” rather than “look out.”

3.       Constant pain. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you I’ve had a headache since August 1, 2015. I take daily medication just to keep the pain at a manageable level. The more I do—tag along for grocery shopping, or do some Christmas shopping, watch an animated show or a computer graphic enhanced movie—the more it hurts. Last night I had to resort to my back up meds because my head hurt so bad (Fri night Brandon took me to the store to get groceries then Sat we watched some TV) just to bring the pain back to a workable level. And if I miss a dose of my daily meds, it takes at least three days to get back on track.

4.       My new physical limitations. I was basically down for 2 and a half months before I started increasing my activity. With any other headache, I’d work through the pain. I’m a mom—this is what moms do. But with a concussion-related headache you risk doing more damage to your brain by pushing it. The pain is a sign of a limitation—you don’t want to push too far beyond that. But, being down means that my muscles have atrophied, I’ve gained weight which makes moving even more difficult, and part of that I can probably blame on my meds. I’ve never had a long term relationship with a pharmaceutical that *doesn’t* have a “can cause weight gain” warning on it. I’ve cut down on what I eat, started eating veggies with much more regularity, and really been more careful about my intake, but my clothes don’t fit.

5.       Hand in hand with #4 is my inability to return to work, church, or other social activities. I haven’t driven since the night I hurt myself. Driving takes a level of concentration and awareness I just don’t have right now. I’m not just staying at home all the time and guessing about these limitations. I’ve been testing myself. I get on my treadmill and try to move more. I go to the store to see if it’s better now than it was last week. I’ve tried twice to go to church for a period of time. It’s been a train wreck every time, with a varying number of casualties. But this is the big issue: If I can’t return to work, then Bryan can’t go to nursing school. He has to get a job that supports the family’s needs. That’s pretty cut and dry. We’ve spent so much time this year unemployed and under employed that there’s a laundry list of issues that cost money we don’t have and they all have to be fixed yesterday. So, again, there’s that fun stress issue.

6.       My writing has suffered. Not only do I struggle to put thoughts into words—even on paper—I feel like part of my vocabulary is missing. Like I don’t remember as many words as I used to. It’s so weird to feel that way, like some thought or important fact is just beyond your reach. In addition to that, I have a limited number of words I can type before my head hurts too much to continue. That number has increased a little, which is great. If it continues to increase maybe I’ll see more recovery in other areas.

So, what if this is my new normal? What if my head just hurts every day for years? One of my friends told me today that she was in a car accident 2 years ago and her TBI symptoms are still there, with only marginal improvement. It’s rare for a head injury to persist past 6 months, but it happens.

I bumped my head on a freaking counter, and it may just have altered my life forever.

The other thing that happened this weekend is that I realized in a week it will be 4 months since my injury. Feels like forever. I’m sick of dealing with it, sick of talking about it, sick of it being an issue in my life. And I’m sure as heck sick of not being able to do normal stuff. I’ve seen improvement. I can bake cookies, if that’s the only thing I do all day. I can spend time on the computer. I can watch regular TV shows. But I can’t drive, go to church, or see a movie with my family. Or even go out to eat (not that we can afford it right now, but you get the idea).

I want to be able to someday look back on this as an experience I had, but moved on from. I’m trying super hard to keep my spirits up, because that plays heavily into my recovery. Some days are easier than others, but I haven’t given up. I do have faith that, whatever happens, it’s God’s plan, and I will try my best to fit into that. Sometimes it’s hard to see the goal from the trenches, but that’s a problem everybody has at one point or another.

It's Beginning

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. You know, in the commercial Christmas prep sense.

My short story, Twelve Days:A Story of Christmas, was first published last December, and it is now available in PRINT, E-BOOK, and AUDIO formats. It's my first work to be available in all three formats, and I'm super happy about that.

What makes me even more happy is the reviews it's received so far. Twelve Days is the story of an unhappy man who doesn't know he's unhappy. He's built a life of luxury, and in the process starved his heart. When facing the ruin of all he should hold dear, he finally has to refocus his energies on what matters most. Kind of like A Christmas Carol (Dickens), Twelve Days is a story of redemption.

With the audio book being new this season, Twelve Days is pretty unknown on Audible, so I'm seeking REVIEWERS. If you're interested in an entertaining hour and six minutes, You can post your email address and I'll send you the audio book. All I ask is that you post an honest review on Audible. If you choose you can also post it to Amazon, but I'm more focused on the story's Audible profile.

And just as a teaser, this is what  author Stephonie Williams says about Twelve Days:  "Last night as I was putting my tablet away I was mentally comparing this Christmas book to the previous Christmas book that I had read which was Twelve Days: A Story of Christmas. Although not billed as a romance it felt like a real romance. The characters were developed enough to make them realistic and relatable as opposed to perfectly perfect, stunningly handsome and beautiful with enough electricity pulsing through and between them to power a major metropolis. Thank you for a beautiful and timeless Christmas story."

Thanks in advance to everyone willing to give my words, and J Scott Bennett's voice, a listen. I hope everyone has a fulfilling holiday season. 

Happy Halloween

For you, lovely reader: A Halloween tale of True Dedication.

Sterling McWilliams tapped the bell on the hotel counter and looked around. The ding of the bell echoed off the dingy walls and old tile floor. The Last Chance Hotel certainly was his last chance—his GPS showed no other hotel or motel for the next forty miles, and the windshield wipers of his small rental car couldn’t keep the water from obscuring his vision. No, he had to stay.

Sterling tapped the bell again, this time sharply. The longer the desk clerk kept him waiting, the less embarrassed he was about the puddle of rainwater he was leaving on the floor. Just because the hotel was his only option didn’t mean they could keep him waiting.

He crossed the worn, shabby couches in the lobby and looked down the corridor. Silence reigned, broken only by the patter of rain outside and the occasional clap of thunder. The carpet under his feet had probably looked great in 1983, but now had several worn patches and permanent stains. Each light fixture he saw had at least one light out, giving the lobby and hallway rather a spooky appearance.

“Can I help you?” The voice at the counter made him turn. Its owner as a petite young woman with dyed black hair and too much eye makeup.  She had a black shirt on under her maroon hotel vest, and a nametag that read “Velma.”

“Yes, I’d like a room for the night,” Sterling said, crossing back to the counter.

“Just one night?” Velma turned to the computer, her dark eyes focused on the screen.

“Yes.” Sterling glanced down at the wet floor, reconsidering. Someone could slip on it and hurt themselves. “And I’m afraid I’ve carried some of the rain in with me.”

Velma didn’t glance up. “I’ll take care of it.” Her small hands flew across the keyboard so fast he almost couldn’t keep up. She asked for his ID, and he produced his driver’s license. “Do you prefer a ground floor room or upstairs?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He wouldn’t be there long enough to care. “Just something close so I don’t track water all over the place.”

“I’ll put you in room one eighteen,” Velma said. She pulled a hotel key card from the stack next to the computer and swiped it twice, then slid it into the pamphlet with his room number on it. “Here you go. Your room is down the hall to the left.”

“Thank you.” Sterling picked up his bag and walked across the lobby to the corridor. He stopped midway to remind her about the wet floor, but Velma had gone.

“Moves like a cat,” he muttered under his breath.

Room one eighteen had only one light, and smelled like it hadn’t been used since the carpet in the hallway was installed. He turned on the air conditioner, which rattled, and opened the window a crack, surprised to find bars placed on the outside.

Sterling removed his tie and jacket and dropped his suitcase on the spare bed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. One was from his niece, Shelly, wishing him a happy Halloween. Sterling looked around. Well, certainly the atmosphere was right for Halloween, even if the holiday was nearly over. The clock on the night stand read eleven fifteen.

He tossed his phone onto the bed and sank down into the chair. With a sigh, he bent to slide off his shoes and socks but stopped at a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

“Housekeeping,” the voice said.

Sterling got up and crossed the room to open the door. Velma stood there, holding two towels and a folded wash cloth. Her black fingernail polish contrasted sharply against the white towels.

“I figured you might need these,” she said.

Sterling accepted the offering. “Thank you.”

She nodded and walked away. When she turned, he noticed an ugly red slash across the back of her neck. It looked painful, though she didn’t seem bothered by it in the least.

Sterling shut the door and opened his bathroom to put the towels away. The shelf above the towel rack was empty. Either Velma did the cleaning herself or she had already been in one eighteen and knew it had no towels.

His stomach growled, but Sterling wasn’t about to go back into the pouring rain to find something to eat. He took a brief, hot shower using the little bottles of shampoo and body wash on the counter of the bathroom, then slipped into his shorts and climbed into bed. The pillow was lumpy, so he switched with the one on the other bed. It was almost completely flat, but at least wasn’t lumpy. Sterling folded it in half and rested his head on it.

Sterling had almost drifted to sleep before he remembered the window was still open. If the wind shifted, the rain would come right in through the open window. He groaned in protest as he got up to shut the window, then went back to bed and repositioned the pillow.

Sleep had almost claimed him again when he heard a horrifying shriek from outside. His eyes flew open and he rushed to the window. He could barely make anything out in the dim light from the streetlights, particularly through the rain, but he thought he could see figures moving around outside. The clock read midnight exactly. And did he hear laughter?

“Kids,” he muttered, annoyed. Some stupid kids out for Halloween pranks. He grabbed the hotel phone and hit the button marked “lobby.”

“Yes?” He could now recognize Velma’s voice.

“Could you do something about the kids out there?” Sterling asked. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’ve already called the police, sir.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” Sterling hung up and went back to bed.

When he next opened his eyes, sunlight brightened the room. It didn’t look any better in the light than it had in the dark, unfortunately. Sterling checked his watch. It was already after eight, but he still had time to make his appointment. And he was eager to leave the Last Chance Hotel behind.

A tall, older man met him at the front desk when he checked out.  “Was everything in order, sir?”

Sterling handed over his credit card. “Yes, thank you.” Privately he wondered if they’d ever refurbish the hotel, but knew it wasn’t up to the desk clerk. “Oh, and do you have a comment card? I’d like to complement the management on their night clerk. She was very efficient last night.”

“She?” The man’s face paled slightly. “I’m afraid neither of our female employees were on duty last night.”

“Her name tag read Velma,” Sterling said helpfully.

Whatever color was in the man’s face fled. “That’s impossible,” he choked out.

Sterling narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid Velma was in a car accident on her way to work yesterday evening. Her car was forced under the trailer of a semi. She was decapitated.”

“Horrible,” Sterling breathed, remembering the ugly mark across the back of Velma’s neck. “But, I swear the girl last night had on a name tag that read Velma.”

“What did she look like?” the clerk asked.

“Short, bottled black hair, too much eye makeup.”

The clerk nodded. “Yes, that was her.” He handed Sterling’s card back with a shaking hand. “I guess she made it to work last night after all.”

The End. 

**Don't forget Ghost Bride, another spooky tale, is FREE in all formats, and A Haunting Love is only 99 cents!

October Sales and New Releases

October 2015 is huge for Chesley Books, so I figured I'd better get everything in one post so my readers can easily access all the fun.

First of all, GHOST BRIDE, my perma-free micro story is--as always--free for public consumption. You can find it on AMAZON, SMASHWORDS, and other various formats. It does very well in iBooks (iTunes) where it has 118 reviews. That number kind of thrills me.


 Second, as I posted earlier this month, Lizzie Lilac and the Left Socks is available for your KINDLE! This is my cancer charity project, so it's a bit more expensive than my other books, but that's because the royalties go straight to fund cancer research and take care of cancer patients.

Lizzie is, of course, also available in PRINT.

Where do missing socks go? Little Lizzie Lilac is determined to find out!

Next is a project near and dear to me as well.

Reflections of Reality: The Poetry of Cheri Chesley

 Yes, you read that right. I published a poetry book. Today. I wanted to do something special for my mom's October birthday, so I published my book of poems--that only she and I have previously had copies of. Now it's out in the world, and quite affordable.

Reflections is available in e-book and PRINT formats.

Lastly, I give you A Haunting Love in THREE formats!!

Since it's publication in November 2014, A Haunting Love has graduated from it's KINDLE origins--where you can pick it up for merely 99 cents.

It's now also available in PRINT.

AND (drumroll) in AUDIO BOOK format!

Enjoy my delightful narrator navigate through the fun Scottish accents of the people Alita encounters when she goes to Scotland for her wedding. Narrator Keith Michaelson really brings my characters to life!

Though I pulled the Amazon links for most of my works, please remember they are also available in Kobo, iBooks, and Nook. 

Happy Halloween, and happy reading/listening!

October is Here!

Fall has finally come! Here's where we all toss colored leaves into the air and shout, "Hooray!"

I've got a ton of great things happening this month, and I'm going to try hard to pace myself. Check back on this blog every week for fun news and updates.

Today (this week), we're talking Breast Cancer Awareness Month. After all, that's one of the mantles October wears. As you know, my children's book, LIZZIE LILAC AND THE LEFT SOCKS is my pay-it-forward project. All proceeds from sales of the ebook and print versions go to fight cancer research and help cancer patients.

Wait, did I say ebook? YES! If you've always wanted to get a copy but couldn't quite swing the print price, I can now offer you LIZZIE LILAC for your KINDLE!

Naturally, you can still pick it up in PRINT, but I am super excited to offer the Kindle version because I feel it will increase donations--and that makes me super happy. It's tough sometimes to offer a book that never goes on sale, or is offered free or discounted, but I know my readers understand that cutting the price of such a fun story would short-change the most vulnerable among us.

Here's what the book is all about: Have you ever wondered what happens to those socks that get lost in the dryer? Join Lizzie Lilac as she discovers the answer. 

I wrote LIZZIE with my teen daughter as a tribute to a sweet friend and her daughter while that friend was going through chemo for breast cancer. It's a thoroughly enjoyable story, and I know you'll love it.