Wendy Karasin – Musings of a Boomer

Today I have the distinct honor of having my memoir placed on a table at the Huntington Book Revue. It is thrilling to be part of one of the most prestigious book stores on Long Island. If any of you live near Huntington (a great town in its own right), please visit the Book Revue. It is a wonderful, cozy place to browse. Then ask for The Moon To Play With – A Daughter’s Journey – by Wendy Karasin, and read, relax and rejuvenate!

An author and her book. Check it out…it might be the read that turns your life around!

q

Why have a book launch party? The most important reason to have one is for – you.

To honor your accomplishment. To celebrate your authorship with others. To smile in the face of your fear, and move beyond it.

There are many external reasons to have a book launch party – but the most meaningful reason is internal. You have reached a milestone achievement. You can hold your book in your hands and so can others.

Future steps; how many books you sell, how to market them, reviews, and what others think of your work, are of import. You will move forward incrementally in whatever ways you deem necessary, but do not waste the moment that is all about you. Do not forget or undervalue that you have published a book. We can all agree that the work is not over, but for the moment – relish in the delight of pride, satisfaction, and accomplishment.

Follow the link below to my author Facebook page and click on the ‘book launch’ video to see my answer to the question: “What do you hope people take away from your book?”  https://www.facebook.com/TheMoonToPlayWith

A person entered my life long ago, and has the distinct dishonor of having remained one of the most annoying individuals I have ever met. A screech-on-the-chalkboard voice, a nail running-down-your-spine personality. I am not alone in this assessment, but that’s beside the point.

I did not invite this individual in. It managed that on its own, in a sneaky and sleazy fashion. There is no honor, kindness, or decency. There’s only crazy. It has taken my foolish, ridiculous, pie in the sky, wishful thinking self a long time to accept that the adrenaline that races through my body at the sound of this person’s voice, or the sight of it, is an internal alarm screaming for me to get the fuck out of the area, stay away.

I want to believe people. I want nice. I want to trust. Traits that are both blessings (when people are deserving) and curses (when they are not). A lesson my father once shared, and a reminder: “You can trust, be nice, believe—but only to those who are deserving, who have proven themselves, who are worthy. Trust with wisdom, do not trust indiscriminately.”

My parents, now gone, return in small ways. Both knew the individual of whom I speak, neither would have wasted much time on it. I hear their words of support and advice, and this helps. I have been through this before. A piece of me believes, beyond all normal reasoning, that a situation can (and should, let us not forget the should) be different for my own sense of normal, peace, stillness. But it isn’t. And I have no control over another person’s thought processes or behaviors.

The good news is that I no longer have people like this in my life (excepting this) and my involvement here is minimal.  Hope does not equate to what’s so, and wishful thinking is equivalent to fantasy. In the end, I remember my parents words of advice because that’s as good a way to start a day as any:

Mom: The easy way is the hard way in the end, and Dad: Trust with wisdom.