Exciting news and how the idea originated

I know it has been a long time since my last post. I have been very busy with the editing of my second book "Sensitivity 202...Life Isn't All About You." I am hoping it will be out later this year. I also have re-published and changed the title of my first book. "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" will soon be "Sensitivity 101...The Search for Acceptance." Many book reviewers believe this will open up interest among women and those from divorced families better than the original title. It will have the same ISBN so you can still buy from any on-line retailer and get the new title automatically. It may take some time for the new cover to be added to Amazon and Barnes and Noble, etc.

By the way, "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" is ranked number 60 on the Amazon top sellers list under Inspirational books. I'm not sure how or why, but I'll take it.

I have also been getting many e-mails asking how the idea came to me. So for the next few months I will be posting every Monday a new section of "How the Idea originated." Here is the first one. I hope you all enjoy it and continue to support my writings.

I was on Facebook one night when I heard the beep--you know the one--and the IM pop-up box appeared. On the other end was a girl--now a lady--that I hadn't talked to in over 30 years. We had worked together at a McDonalds while we were in high school. She and I also shared some special time at a movie called "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" I'm sure some of you have heard about it. (But that's another story all together.)
Anyway, after exchanging some small talk we decided to call each other instead to "really connect." We started talking about my upcoming book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male". She had seen some of my posts about it and also had been to my website http://www.philipnork.com/ to investigate. One of the first questions she had for me was, 'How did this all start?"
I started to explain the story to her, in bits and pieces. Over the next few weeks we called each other every Wednesday night and I had another sidebar to tell her about. She was very surprised to find out she was actually in the book. It has to do with the before mentioned movie and what it meant to me. (It's chapter 23 for those of you who want to know.)
Here is the what I told her the first night--

Obviously the stories of "Sensitivity 101... started as I grew up, but as I did I pushed these memories way back into my brain for safe-keeping. They began to surface again when I moved my family from Illinois to Nevada. Not having many friends in a new place brought them to the forefront. They came to me by way of dreams at night. They were reoccuring that were so vivid I was sure I had gone back in time and was reliving them. The memories were there, but I still didn't know what to do with them.

That's it for this week. Every Monday I will continue the story. Or if you'd rather see the end result faster, just go to my website http://www.philipnork.com/ and take a look.

Until next Monday...

Phil

What made You YOU?

My book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male"  is all about life lessons and how the decisions made shaped who I eventually grew up to be. It's funny how these lessons learned so early continue to come back throughout my life and how I now react to them.

A friend of mine who blogs asked the question, What Made you YOU? Do yourself a favor and go to http://www.dedastudios.blogspot.com/ and see what event helped shape that particular life.

So What Made You YOU? Let me know...

Saying the same thing in two different ways

I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted. What with the holidays, the signing and sending off of numerous books, and no school for those in the house who normally leave me alone, it has been a long time. Well, it's the new year and it is starting off just as the last one ended. My book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" has already received two reviews so far in 2011. Both are basically saying the same things, but in two distinctly different ways. Let me share--

Reviewer 1 started out with, "I must start this by saying that this book had two major strikes against it from the start...I dislike memoirs and I really dislike short stories. So reading a book like this was a chore for me"

Reviewer 2 said, "Although totally out of the normal genre that I read, I was willing to give a chance to "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" by Philip Nork. Another reviewer friend of mine suggested I read it after she did and saw all the 4 and 5 star reviews on Amazon as she posted hers."

Reviewer 1 added, "As I struggled with keeping each tale separate (and failed miserably), I kept cringing..."

Reviewer 2 said, "The way Mr. Nork starts the book out is to identify each of the lessons he learned from the women in his life. The unique style and individually of each brought out the hidden messages, and although I couldn't relate totally because of gender and age, I still understood the heart-felt lessons and could apply them to my own experiences...as the book continues it was nice to see how the earlier lessons resurfaced in even more unique ways."

Reviewer 1 ended by saying, "Would I recommend this book? *Sigh* sadly I can't think of anyone I know who would like it."

Reviewer 2 ended, "Sensitivity 101...is a wonderful book if you like the genre. I think most people read it as a memoir, but according to his website Mr. Nork calls it a fictionalized version of his life. The stories are unique, the situations are so well written that I felt like I was right there, and the characters come to life. The storytelling is wonderful and the writing is strong. Again, this book may never make it on my Top Ten list, but after giving it the benefit of the doubt, I can understand why there are so many 4 and 5 star reviews listed. Nice job, Mr. Nork.

I take all reviews with a grain of salt knowing that they are just opinions. These two though drastically show the difference between a well-versed professional and an every day reader. I respect both of their points, but reviewer 2 gets more points from me. Not because it is a 'better' review, but because the reviewer sees the big picture, while reviewer 1 sees only what it means to them.

I believe that anyone who reviews books has made a commitment to those readers (and to the writer) to let them know what is inside the book, and then let them decide whether or not they should read it. By inputting so much of their own likes and dislikes, reviewer 1 has done a disservice to both of them. I have read many books which were not my preferred likes, but still was able to give a balanced review of the book.

By the way, Reviewer 2 sent me an e-mail before posting the review on her blog to apologize for the delay (only two weeks) and to let me know what was going to be said. She told me up front that it was not her cup of tea, but that the review would be built more around the foundation of the book and not about her opinion of the subject or genre. She also asked for my permission before she posted. Once I approved, she then sent me the link to her blog.

Reviewer 1 had the book for almost a year and never corresponded with me once. I 'found' the review as I was surfing the net.

I will not name either reviewer because this is not about them. It is about the different ways people get their message across. I will say that Reviewer 1 is another self-published author looking for support, just like me. Reviewer 2 is a ten year professional book reviewer who doesn't need me, or my book, to make her career. For what it's worth Reviewer 1 gave the book 2 stars, while Reviewer 2 gave it 4 stars.

These are but two of the hundreds of reviews that "Sensitivity 101..." has received. In time, they will both fade away and become mere memories. But the way Reviewer 2 handled the situation makes me wonder if I should start using only professional reviewers going forward.

Am I right or wrong in my opinion? Do the amount of stars a book is given influence whether you buy it or not? How personal do you think a reviewer should be? What makes a 'good review' in your opinion?

Did Ya' Ever Notice...that you can't please everyone all the time? I say "you shouldn't even try!"

Charity should be a 12 month thought

As I say in my book Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male "life is about learning, sharing and helping others." I believe that there are many ways to help out, and not only around the holidays. Most people think that if they act out and donate around the holidays that they are doing a good thing. I'm not arguing that they aren't, I'm just saying that those who are looking for help need it all year long.

I share the wealth with every book that I sell. The Children's Miracle Network is a great organization which raises funds for children's hospitals in many countries. Most months I give 25% of my profits to this charity. But for the rest of 2010, I will be giving 50% instead.

I know not all of you have books that help you donate or can even afford much this year. The economy has really taken a bite out of us 'do-gooders' as many of us continue to struggle just as much as some the charities do. Remember what karma teaches us though--all good deeds will be returned. As the holidays are approaching, this would be a great start to a better new year for all of us. If possible give $10 or $25 if you can afford it...if not, there are many other ways to help out those that need it.

My blogger friend Karen has a great list of how you can help those in your community. Her last blog entry on "Practical Frugality" is a great resource. See for yourself what ideas she has to help those that need it on a daily basis. You'll be surprised how easy it can be.

Did Ya' Ever Notice that when you do something nice for someone else, someone does something for you in return? Let's make it a great holiday for everyone out there this year!

Reflections

I can't believe it has been over a month since my last post. Things have been very hectic lately. A new teaching job for the wife and a new school for the kid has my life turned upside down. All of a sudden I'm the wake up call, the breakfast maker, the organizer of the mornings, the taxi cab and finally the man I used to be--working 10 hour days at my 'real' job and then trying to write more books while still promoting my first book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male." 

The nights are not much better, what with homework for the kid and grading papers by the wife, I am the maker of dinner, the doer of laundry, the cleaner of the house and finally the man I used to be--the support they both need. But who supports me? They both do but in different ways. It's so nice to see them happy with the choices they have made, the success they both have and the way our family blends together. So my life may have changed, the responsibilities may have changed, and the way we do things may have changed, but we are still the same old family.

This brings me to last Sunday--Halloween. Growing up Halloween was my favorite holiday besides Christmas. These two days meant a lot to me, but in different ways. Christmas brought the broken family together. We'd spend Christmas Eve at my dad's place, being with grandparents and aunts and uncles who we only saw on this day due to the divorce. Then Christmas day was spent at mom's place, socializing with the side of the family who we all knew and loved so well. By stringing these days together it allowed me the luxury to 'pretend' everyone cared.

Halloween was my way of disappearing. I would dress up, well into my twenties, as someone new.The costumes all changed, but they all had one thing in common--a mask of some sort. Just like the main character used 'Disco Phil'  as an alter ego in my book, I used these masks to hide my true identity and become someone I wanted to be. The safety of being unknown was comforting to me. It was a long, hard journey before I believed and accepted myself for who I was.

So last Sunday, I was expecting to walk my kid around the neighborhood trick or treating and seeing all the other 'hidden' beings. But my son surprised me--he said he was too old for all that. He said that he was talking to his friends about Halloween and how they used the holiday the same way I did, to disappear and be someone else. He decided, along with three other friends, that they didn't need to 'hide' anymore. He told me he was comfortable with who he was, that he liked his life, and that the lessons I had written about in the first ten chapters of my book have helped him make new friends and become more accepted by others.

Pretty heavy stuff coming from an eleven year old!

So instead of trick or treating, the three of us sat on our front porch as a family and gave out some candy to those who still use Halloween as a get-away. And I thought about the good old days...and then asked myself
Did Ya' Ever Notice that kids grow up very fast these days?

To see the lessons that I let my son read, and was talking now about, come to http://www.philipnork.com/ and buy my book. I hope they help your sons and daughters understand more about life, too!

Perception is Your Reality

Did Ya’ Ever Notice that people may see the same thing, but all have different perspectives on what they saw? Here is one example of this—the picture which some people see as two lamps, but others view as two faces instead. Why does this happen? What causes them to see differences in the same event? In my book “Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male” I address this and use the line “Perception is your reality” to explain it. I say that I noticed that men and women are different and process info differently. I also state that neither may be wrong, but that outside influences may affect how they process the information.


Let’s take another example. In my town right now there is a big buzz surrounding the shooting of a man by Metro police at a Costco one busy Saturday in July. They are holding an inquest (like a jury trial) to see if the police were justified in shooting him. As the witnesses start telling their versions of what happened, although they were all present for the same shooting many differences begin to emerge. Does this mean some are right and some are wrong? Probably not, just that they all processed the info differently. Many of the younger witnesses “saw” things in a different way than those who were older. And men saw things different than the women.

The younger people didn’t see a gun being drawn by the man who dies. They saw him make a movement towards his side or back, but never saw a gun. The older witnesses actually saw a gun…but the men saw a black one, while the women saw a silver one. Why the disparity? Could it be how they were brought up? The younger people may have less focus for actual situations which arise. They are so busy with I-Pads, cell phones and such, that maybe they don’t focus in like others. Maybe the older women don’t know much about guns so they just assume they saw a silver one, like the ones they grew up with while watching Gunsmoke or John Wayne movies. The men all saw black ones and could describe it and its holster…most of the other witnesses never saw a holster. Are the men trying to prove they are better at knowing guns, or are they just making this up to feel important?

The younger witnesses remember hearing “Get on the Ground” being said many times by many voices. The older witnesses swear they heard “Drop the Gun and get on the ground” being said two or three times by the same officer. Even the policeman who gave the commands doesn’t remember saying “Drop the gun”, but there it is clear as day on the 911 tape right before “Get on the ground” was said three times. How can so many people hear different things at the same event? Again can age play a part? Nowadays, on most cop shows, you hear “Get on the Ground” or nothing at all as the suspect is being shot with a taser gun. Back in the day when the older witnesses were growing up, “Drop your weapon” was always used. This leads to another point—if the office said “drop your gun” on the tape, wouldn’t it be safe to say the offender was holding a weapon?

Another example of this comes when different people read my book. Some read it as a memoir—thinking everything must be true. Others read it as a fiction story—assuming that all of it is just a story. Even though in the preface of “Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male’ I state that “Everything you read has a basis in truth…some events may have been embellished or altered” the question remains is it truth or fiction? Does it really matter at all?

The younger the reader is, the more they believe it is fiction because they don’t have any situations in their life to compare mine to. The book is about a young boy of the sixties whose parents get a divorce. Nowadays, divorce is very common, but back then it was considered a sin and thus hidden from everyday life. Those involved were shocked and reacted differently than they may in the world today. The older the reader the more they understand the circumstances back then.

The journey the young boy takes as he searches for acceptance and happiness takes him on adventures where he makes mistakes, but doesn’t realize them until much later. Once again, the younger reader doesn’t get this, while the older ones do. Sometimes it is easier to look back at what you did and realize it was wrong than it is to do while your doing it.

The one thing that all who read my book can agree on is that it is "a fascinating story." That "the stories that have emerged are ripe with feeling and diversity." And that "everyone who has felt different at any time of their life will understand the true meaniong behind this book."

In both cases--the shooting and the reading of my book--the perceptions which a person takes away from them are indeed their own reality. Who am I to say if they are right or wrong? All I know is that even when two or more people see (or read) the same thing, the experience isn’t always the same for each. Sometimes your upbringing, your age and those things that you believe in will take precedent in how you perceive what happened and how you react to it.

Obviously you don't want to recreate the shooting, but you can form your own opinions about my book. Why not buy copy from Amazon and see what your reactions will be. Please share them with me here or on http://www.philipnork.com/ under the “Guestbook” tab.

Remember, perceptions really are your own reality. And don’t let anyone tell you any different.

Chapter One of "Sensitivity 101..."

I wanted to do something special for those of you who haven't read my book yet. With school starting soon and the anxiety of starting somethng new in the air, I thought maybe a trip back to when I was in school and the first two lessons that I learned my help you ease the feelings your schoolage choldren have. Maybe by telling this story you may help you child be nicer to those in their classroom or possiibly stop the bullying that sometimes goes on. And it just may make you feel good about people in general.
So here is Chapter One of "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male." 

                                         Jenna

The time between when I was born and when I started fourth grade was pretty normal for me. I was intelligent, funny and the spotlight was shining directly on me. I was always very short for my age, had a buzz cut and was the only one in my class who wore glasses. And even though I was smartest boy in class, I was always anxious about how the other kids saw me. I read many books given to me by Nana and liked to share what I read with the other kids and teachers. The guys didn’t seem interested, while the girls came to me for answers to all their questions. The girls knew I would help them with whatever they asked me for.

My teachers always treated me the best. They said I was sweet, cute and very easy to teach. I wasn’t like the other boys in class who were into fighting, getting dirty and making fun of people. I just wanted to make friends and be accepted by everyone, especially the girls.

All through first grade I was in the same class as Jenna. She was a short, roundish shaped girl who had a beautiful personality. She was the most popular girl in our class and the prettiest. She had long blonde hair that her mom put up in pigtails and always tied with green ribbons. Jenna had freckles on her nose and under her eyes and always seemed to have a radiating glow around her.

Being that we were both smart, Jenna and I were always in the same groups. I often made her laugh with the silly things I did. I had a crush on her but didn’t know what to do about it. I remembered the talk Nana and I had about being different, sincere and making people feel special.

One spring morning, my mom had the radio on during breakfast and the song Up, Up and Away came on. It was a catchy tune, even to a six year old, so I found myself humming it on the way to school. When I reached the schoolyard, all of my classmates were waiting outside for the bell to go in. This was my opportunity to make Jenna feel special and to let her know how I felt about her.

Now I wasn’t a great singer or even a good one, but I put a lot of feeling into everything I did. I started to sing, “Up, up and away with my beautiful, my beautiful Jenna” to the melody in my head. The other kids looked at me like I was crazy, but Jenna had a cute little smile on her face.

I sang this little song every day before school and Jenna would always give me her special smile. It made me feel good inside to be accepted by her. One day during lunch she came up to me, gave me a small hug and said, “I really like being friends.”

I learned my first lesson that day, my great-grandmother was right. If I made someone feel special, was sincere and was a little different in going about it, people would like me and approve of what I did.

                                         * * *

Later in the school year, Jenna had an outdoor birthday party and invited me to come. When I arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Her backyard was completely decorated in her favorite color, which was green. There was green crepe paper, green paper hats and green helium-filled balloons everywhere. Her birthday cake was decorated with green trim and had green icing.

It was a great party and toward the end we gave her presents. Thanks to my grandmother’s influence, mine had a yellow silk rose taped to the box. After we had cake and ice cream, her mom wanted to do something special, so she waved all of us kids close to her and explained her plan.

“Everyone get a balloon.” She said. “Once everyone has one, we will let them fly into the air and I want you to make a wish.” Her intent was to teach us a lesson, and she added, “In life there will be times when you need a friend. Find a friend here today and tie your balloons together, they will fly higher and the chances of your wishes coming true will be better.”

Jenna and I immediately decided to tie our balloons together. As they slowly ascended skyward, Jenna smiled at me and said, “I wanna be friends forever.” As the balloons disappeared from sight, I sang my little song to her while we held hands and agreed to always be friends.

As Jenna and I went through the rest of that school year and the next, almost every morning I would sing my little song to her and she would either smile back at me or give me a little hug that said thanks. Jenna and her family moved away the summer between second and third grade. At the start of third grade, when Jenna did not show up for class, I was devastated. I didn’t know where she had moved to or how to get in touch with her. I started to retreat from the other kids. I didn’t want to get hurt by getting close to someone else only to have them leave, too.

                                         * * *

We changed schools after the sixth grade. By then I was feeling the effects of my parent’s divorce and had retreated further into my own little world. Starting school fresh at a junior high was not going to be fun for me, and I was very anxious. There was only one junior high in our town, so all the grade schools combined into this one for the two years before high school started. This is where I ran into Jenna again.

She was standing amidst a group of girls before the first day of school started and I was very ecstatic to see her again. She still had her freckles and wore her hair in those pigtails with green ribbons, but she had grown. She was taller and skinnier and seemed to be very popular among her new friends. I wanted to say hi to her, but felt very small in the presence of her girlfriends. Not in stature, even though I was still short for my age. I just didn’t feel comfortable around crowds of people, especially ones that I did not know. I wanted to make an impression, but not make an idiot out of myself. I thought back to the first lesson Nana had taught me about being different but sincere.

I walked up behind Jenna and said, “Up, up and away, babe.”

When she heard those words, she spun around and gave me an incredible hug along with that smile of hers. It had not changed throughout the years. It was big, full and made my heart warm.

One of her friends shot me a strange look and asked, “Jenna, who’s the weirdo?”

I was ready to walk away embarrassed. I thought I had made a mistake approaching Jenna in front of her friends.

To my surprise, Jenna replied very gently, “Leave him alone, he isn’t weird. He’s a friend.”

I smiled, thanked her and left. Throughout the next two years every time I saw Jenna I repeated my phrase to her. She always gave me her biggest smile in return.

                                         * * *

High school came and once again Jenna and I attended the same school. But again we went our separate ways. She had new friends, different interests and we never hung out in the same groups. Jenna had continued to be very popular and, to say the least, I was not, nor was I accepted by her new friends. Even though we had drifted apart, every time I would see her I would say “up, up and away, babe” and she always smiled back.

Graduation day finally arrived and even though I had graduated early, I came back to march with my class. Our class that year was one of the school’s largest, around 300 students. Instead of holding the ceremony in the gym, it was held on the football field. They had decorated the field in our school colors, green and white. There were green and white crepe paper streamers everywhere, and on the back of every chair were green and white helium-filled balloons.

We sat through all the ceremonies and finally, after the last diploma was handed out, it was time to celebrate. Normally, that meant the graduates would take off their caps and toss them into the air. This year they were afraid someone would get hurt, so the principal announced that he wanted us to celebrate by letting the balloons fly into the air and make a wish that our dreams would come true.

As soon as he finished saying this, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and there stood Jenna. She asked me, “Do you remember my first grade party when we tied our balloons together and said we’d be friends forever? You were my first friend, and still my best friend.”

I’ve always been a very emotional person, and it became apparent as tears welled up in my eyes.

Jenna asked, “Can we tie our balloons together again like we did back then?”

I nodded and we grabbed two balloons, tied them together and as they flew higher and higher, I began to sing “up, up and away” to her. She smiled her smile that I had gotten to depend on so much and kissed me on the cheek.

Jenna looked at me now with tears in her own eyes, and said, “I’ll never forget how sweet you’ve been. It has meant a lot. Thanks for being you.”

As we watched the balloons disappear we realized that they were both green in color, just like they were so many years ago at her party.

I had no idea that such a small gesture made so long ago could make such a long-lasting impact on someone. Nana was right when she told me to be sincere and to treat the girls special. And by being different, I had cemented a small place in Jenna’s life. For a short amount of time, we had become one. We touched each other in ways that no one else could relate to. We shared a connection that was as pure as a friendship can be.

I have not seen Jenna since that day, so I do not know if she still remembers me or not. But every time I see a balloon ascending into the sky, I feel the magic of her smile.

 I learned two lessons from this experience:

 1) Be different, sincere, and make females feel special.
 2) Girls remember and cherish the small things that they experience.

So there you have it. The rest of the first ten chapters of the book relate similar lessons and also list what they are. I think these lessons can be used by both males and females, and that everyone should use them to the best of their ability.

Did Ya' Ever Notice that when people try to get along the world is a much better place?

The latest review of Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male

Here is the latest 5-star (yellow rose) review. This one from Fran Lewis.

Everyone wants to fit in with others their own age. Understanding the shortcomings and differences among people your own age and being accepted for who you are, even if you are not the most handsome or beautiful person on this planet, is difficult for any adolescent to handle.
As the author recounts and relates to the reader the story of his life and coming of age, we not only learn much about this interesting man but ourselves too. Entering the life and taking the journey along with Phil back in time everyone can learn the many lessons his grandmother taught him about people in general. Learning to handle simple situations, extending a hand of friendship and understanding and embracing the differences in people are just part of what our author wants to impart to the reader. Just being nice to someone new in your class or sharing a common interest or just saying hello, small gestures, kind words are often much more meaningful than you know. If everyone took heed of what is written in this thought provoking, mind stimulating and unique novel, we would have a definite recipe for world peace and understanding. Just think what would happen if everyone really heard and listen to the viewpoints of others and understood different points of view. What would happen if instead of poking fun at a new person in your class or someone that is different and does not dress the same as you, you went out of your way to compliment them on something they said or did, wouldn’t that be great?
Philip Nork saw life in a different way growing up. Close to his great-grandmother and losing her at a young age, he reverted back into himself and felt life and God had dealt him a bad hand. Teaching him to be sensitive and understanding of others and responding positively to their needs, desires and wishes would endear you to people and help you to develop lifelong friendships. Making it even more difficult was his parent’s divorce and becoming man of the house at eight years of age. This would make anyone grow up too fast.
The bond and connection he had with her truly helped to set the tone for the many relationships he would have with girls, women and people in the future. What I really love is the list that he developed over the years through each of his relationships that would help build his character, his strength and his ability to handle many situations as he grew to maturity. Respecting and understanding people and being sincere are the first things that his great-grandmother instilled in him.
The person that I was closest to growing up was my grandmother. She truly understood me and tried to make me feel special. Being overweight, not very pretty and shy, I stood in the background a lot at parties, family events and in school. I was smart and always got good grades but never felt comfortable answering questions and fostering friendships with people that I did not know. She taught me to accept myself for the kind and caring person that I was and hope I still am and that eventually everyone will learn to judge me not just for my outer appearance.
Every story that he tells about his early life and his encounters with girls endears you to him even more. The way each girl entered his life and taught him an important life lesson is heartwarming and enlightening. This book would make a great handbook or guide for every young person who feels out of place and not like everyone else. I could have used this book growing up.

Each girl offered him many life lessons in how to deal with his awkward appearance, being introverted and allowing his emotions to come forth. Phil learned a lot from so many and appreciated each and every friend that he made. While photographing the cheerleading team he enlisted the trust of these beautiful girls and was able to create pictures that told a story. How special!
Creating a list of all the things he learned from his Nana and these girls provides a valuable resource for anyone who wants to begin changing their outlook on life and learning to assimilate better with their peers. It’s the small things that people do and the kind words that definitely make a difference.

Phil developed more than one personality. He was shy and introverted in school and felt that he could disappear into his own skin and not be seen. At night or with friends such as Joyce, Cece and others, he first went to the skating rink with a group of lesbian girls and was treated in a unique and special way and his outer most personality came forth.
Always concerned about making girls and others feel special I began to feel that Phil was losing sight of himself and what would make him truly happy. Listening to others, caring for them and helping them to feel good is what these girls wanted from him in the long run, as there were no long lasting attachments. But, what did Phil need and what would Nana truly want for him? Would this life of experiencing intimacy with so many girls without any feelings for them be the right course or would she want something else. You would have to read the many chapters where you hear not only his words but also the inner most thoughts and desires of these girls to decide for yourself whether Phil was really himself or someone else all the time. Who was this mild mannered great guy who treated women special and made them feel whole? What about him?
One girl named Mary who set the train in motion. One girl named Kayla who accelerated it even more. One young man named Phil who spread himself quite thin to please so many girls because he thought they would feel special. A giant at the rink, at work and now becoming more known at school, but for what reasons other to please others and give them pleasure. Sometimes when we try to get noticed by others we lose sight of what our real purpose is in doing so.
As his story draws to a close the reader might wonder what would have happened if Nana did not die? What would have happened if so many of those he cared about remained in his life? What would have happened if his father were a constant in his life while growing up? What things would have happened differently or would he have remained an introvert and stay to himself young man with a soft heart, kind face and wonderful personality?
Roses make you feel special when given for the right reasons. Yellow means friendship and white means respect and much more. Never give a red rose unless you are sure you will only give it to the one person who rocks your world and will be with you forever.
Phil experiences many turning points in both his family and social lives. He comes full circle with many issues that young people are still facing today. Making a career of helping women to feel good and profiting from it did not turn him into the person he hoped to become. Many used him for their own self- gratification. Others pretended to befriend him for other reasons. Read this book and learn the lessons that Phil finally came to grasp at the end. Take the journey through life with him as he comes full circle from start to finish in his own search for his true identity.

As he drifts off to sleep and hears the voice of his Nana he is reminded of the joy, happiness and goodness he brought to others by being sensitive to their needs and wants, even if it was in an unorthodox manner. Keeping his faith in God, understanding and hearing his voice and remembering as he so aptly states: “ there is no such thing as an ending, only new beginnings.”

Author Phil Nork presents a straightforward, insightful, and heartwarming story of a young man who finally got it. Unselfish, caring and always putting the needs of others before his, Phil travels in a fast world of women seeking their own pleasures at the exclusion of his. As his Nana reminds him: Love, Respect and building a relationship with God has always been there for him.
This is a well written and informative novel will help adults, young teens and young adults learn the answers to many questions concerning these issues. Read the ending, hear his voice and read the last chapter as author Phil Nork lists his lessons in life that we can all learn and apply not just to relationships with the opposite sex, but in other real life situations too.

I never give stars when rating a book:
I give this book FIVE YELLOW ROSES SYMBOLIZING FRIENDSHIP and one more just from me. I would be honored to be your friend.


Fran Lewis Reviewer

Fran, thank you for taking the time read and review my book. I am glad you got so much out of it. It makes me feel justified in writing it. You have opened my eyes to another set of readers who may connect with it-those who feel left out for whatever reason.

A Re-post from days gone by

I have been doing a lot of reviews lately for other authors, hoping to get some kind of reciprocation. So far, not too much has come my way. But I believe everything happens for a reason and most times good things happen to those who wait. Because I have been so busy reading, I haven't been writing. So this is a re-post from a few months ago. I hope you enjoy it.
In my book, "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male...Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex" I tell you about my "Happy Place" and how I found it after listening to my first girlfriend as we discussed some anxious moments that I encountered. She told me to close my eyes and picture the one place I always felt safe and comfortable at. It's been a long time since I visited that location...but had a chance last week to re-explore it.

I had just returned from a week long business trip and was dreading the work week coming up. My days are full of e-mails, phone calls, and social media (both work and personal). I sometimes long for the days before "technology"...the days when you could actually get lost and no one could find you. Long before answering machines, pagers, cell phones and e-mails life seemed so much simpler and much easier to live.
On Sunday morning I couldn't wake up...my throat was sore, my head was pounding, and I was way too congested. I knew I was sick and that it would only get worse with time. I used all the energy I could muster and went to my computer...I sent a quick e-mail to my work team saying that I was going to be out for a few days and that they would need to find other means of help if they needed it. Then I went to my facebook page and stated that I wasn't going to post for a few days. Finally, I did the impossible...I turned off my cell phone.
For the next few days, I couldn't get out of bed. I slept, I tossed and turned, and I found myself alternating between being way too hot and way too cold. I thought I was miserable.
On Thursday I felt better, but still not well enough to get out of bed. I lay on my bed looking for a sign that all would be better. That's when I fell asleep and ended up back at my "Happy Place." I "awoke" and felt the bright sunshine beating down on my face. The aromas from my past--hamburgers being grilled on an open campfire, the smell of freshly cut green grass, and the lingering scent coming from the seaweed that had washed upon the beach over night--all were present. I knew I was in Wisconsin at my great-grandparent's cottage which meant so much to me as I grew up. After what seemed to me like being there forever, just taking in the view of the lake from the hillside I was laying on, I suddenly awoke for real. I was in my own bed, but was feeling much better.
The next day I woke up bright and early feeling totally refreshed...but I wasn't done yet. I dreaded turning on my cell phone and listening to all the recorded voicemails. I could not believe that after 5 days there were no voicemails at all. I did have one text message from a phone number that I didn't recognize. It said, "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." When I tried to call the number, it was disconnected.
Next, I turned on my computer to await the hundreds of e-mails that I assumed were awaiting my return from the dead. On my work system, which normally handled over 100 e-mails a day, I was surprised to say the least when there were only 12 e-mails. No one besides my team knew I was sick...and in fact all eight of my team members sent me the same message..."Relax, you have trained us well...we'll take care of everything."
I wondered what was happening...could this be a hidden sign for me to understand?
As I clicked onto my personal e-mail, again I was surprised when only 20 e-mails showed up (many days I get well over 20 spam e-mails a day alone.) I clicked on some of the "important" ones and found out that there were no important ones at all. I was dumbfounded, but not as confused as I was about to become. The last e-mail bore the name of a person I did not know, but I felt compelled to open it. When I did, I read "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." I attempted to reply to this e-mail, but was a little disappointed when I got a quick return saying that the e-mail address did not exist and could not be delivered.
I went to my facebook page to see many of my friends leaving me notes of encouragement and the hopes that my sickness would disappear quickly.
I went back to my bed to ponder what all this meant. This is what I came up...tell me your opinions of it, please!
In this world that moves way too fast sometimes, one where people feel much more important than they really are, and the feeling of not having anytime alone to themselves anymore, I was able to find out that all this is false. The world DOES move fast, but you control just how fast. I am no more important than anyone else in this world, and there is always time to go to your "Happy Place" if you make the effort.
I say in my book that God works in miraculous ways...and I believe this was His way of saying to me "Slow down and relax..." I don't know if God knows how to text message, or how to send e-mails, or can control how much others need you from time to time, but I do know He cares for all of us...and sometimes interacts with you to allow you to make the best of it.

Book Review: Waiting For Spring

Here is another review from an author who swapped PDF's with me.

The feeling I have after reading “Waiting for Spring” by RJ Keller is one of hopefulness.

Immediately after meeting the main character, Tess, I had a feeling of connection with her. She is an ordinary middle-aged woman who has some baggage she carries around (like the rest of us) and some deep-seeded fears just waiting to come out.
From her mother she gets nothing but hatred…about messing up her plans for life, about Tess’s ill attempt at marriage and the decision she made about not wanting kids which results in her divorce and about a secret the two share, but never discuss.
From her father, who she believes never loved her mother, she gets nothing but excuses and ignored. She feels like he has given up on life and wants nothing more than for him to be happy again.
When Tess’s husband wakes up at thirty-five and decides he wants a family--the one thing Tess never wanted--(Or does she?) she runs away into the arms of another man, but only for one night. Unfortunately a divorce is imminent.
Tess moves on to a new town, but all of her “problems” follow her. And as she tries to start over more and more “problems”, some hers and some from the people she meets, continue to follow her. But they all disappear when she is having sex with Brian.
Although Brian and Tess are in love, old responsibilities and life get in the way. Neither is strong enough to forget and just live in the moment. Fear is the underlying factor that both must conquer. Fear that they are not perfect.
The internal struggle to be the best you can be is scattered all through the book. Fear and past decisions weigh heavy on every character. So much so that they aren’t living their own lives, they are living how others think they should. Sometimes we as humans keep things inside, deep down, away from others, hoping these demons will go away on their own. Most times they don’t, they just get buried deeper, making it even harder to relate to day to day occurrences. The same happens here.
Through it all Tess just wants to be accepted and loved and happy once again.
And she holds on for Spring to arrive, because winter means death (like the barren trees and lack of colors), while Spring brings new life and the colors that she loves, just like the best present she ever received as a child--a 72 pack of crayons with names of colors that she never heard of before.
The story is typical--hardship, love, broken love and starting over. The writing of RJ Keller is not. It is a well written, heart wrenching portrayal of a woman who knows she deserves more than the hand she was dealt. The inner thoughts of Tess are put into sentences, letting you understand what she is thinking, even as she is saying something completely different. Once I started reading, I couldn’t put the book down. This is just another example of an author, not well-known, who should be. The characters, the plot and the ending all make this a book well worth reading.

Book Review "Memoirs from the Aslyum"

"Did Ya' Ever Notice" is all about finding things that others miss or don't take the time to see. Most of the times I will be posting about things that I see while out in the world and asking the question...
This week is a little different.
Sometimes I trade my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" with another author and we do reviews of each other's work on Amazon. This is one of those weeks.
I was able to read Keeneth Weene's "Memoirs from the Asylum" and was shocked at what I read. The book is a behind the scenes look at mental illness and the life the people who live in these institutions lead. It was a hard read, not because it wasn't written well-- it was written extremely well--it was just the subject matter and how open Mr. Weene was able to convey it.
Anyway, read my whole review and then read the book.

In “Memoirs from the Asylum” Kenneth Weene allows the reader to enter a world most of us pray we never have to…the world of mental illness and the effects it has on both the victims and those that are paid to help them.
There’s Marilyn, the catatonic schizophrenic, who spends all of her time seeing an altogether different world through a crack in her bedroom wall. It’s the world she once related to and is populated by those of her past who meant something to her. How will she respond when the crack gets repaired?
Dr. Buford Abrose is the first year resident who also has seen his share of problems. From a loveless marriage to the feelings of failure on his part when he can’t balance the paperwork aspect of the job from the actual attempt to make a difference, he is caught within the walls of the asylum. The closer he tries to understand the patients, the farther he falls from his own life.
The unfeeling workers of the asylum add to the misery and complications these, and the other characters, of the book experience. Their answers normally include medications and isolation for the patients…or is it for themselves?
There is a feeling of connection between these characters that becomes apparent as the book goes on. Although they all react in their own way, the connection that they share is that of fear. Fears that were brought on by the “real world” when they were younger…probably none of their own doing. Possibly a death of someone close, maybe the physical abuse of a parent or friend…something made these people afraid and wanting to escape. Now that they did, all they really want is freedom, whatever that means to them.
In the unique style of narration, Weene allows us to see what really happens in the minds of those that are institutionalized. Sometimes the book was hard to read, using words and imagery that the normal person may not understand or relate to and was lacking an actual plot, but somehow at the end it all comes together.
Not one to be a spoiler, all I can say is that “Memoirs from the Asylum” is a book that everyone should read and at the same time pray to the God of your choice that the freedom you have is the freedom that you really want.

So "Did Ya' Ever..." find something that others never have? That's how I feel after reading this book. Another unknown author who should be well known. Do yourself a favor and get "Memoirs from the Asylum."

Traveling is getting more difficult...

I travel way too much--my job demands it and marketing of my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" asks it, so I do it. It used to be fun...now it's just tiring.

It starts out by getting to the airport. Luckily I live a few miles away from the local one, so I can leave a lot later than most have to. I already know the patterns of my airport and realize that Tuesday is the best day to leave and Saturday is the best day to return. The worst day to return is Thursday night...everyone comes to Vegas on Thursday after work. Monday is a bad day to leave also, especially in the late afternoon.

Business people know all this and adjust thier schedules to accomodate the best situations. Unfortunately regular travelers don't. They have trouble getting through security--it's only been about 5 years that you can't take water through, that you must empty your pockets, and that you must take off your shoes--is it that difficult? Families are the worse, but I understand that and never get behind one.

Then comes the flight itself. I only fly Southwest, a great company. Again though only business people get it. How hard is it to line up in order, why do the regulars not understand the routine? Then they get mad when the guy letting them on the plane tells them to get back in line.

Once on the plane, these people look like cattle, just following the person in front of them. They all want an aisle seat or look for "their" seat. Southwest has open seating-- do you think you'd know that after you make your reservation?

Luckily I can fall asleep on any plane trip.

Finally, the worse is when you reach the hotel. Most doors close on their own, so you don't have to help them. Yet, I am constantly awakened by the slamming of hotel doors at night and in the morning. Again do this once and learn, people!

Traveling is something I must do, so I will. But it sure isn't as fun as it used to be.

"Have Ya' Ever Noticed" that traveling is more work than actual work?

A new title, but the same old thing...

So this morning I changed the title of the blog to "Did Ya' Ever Notice...? Unfortunately I was running out of random acts of kindness to talk about. They were all the same, like donating to a certain charity (and there are so many nowadays), thanking someone for a kind review of my book, or helping out someone who has more of a need. I'll still use some of these but I notice things all the time and want to talk about it. Here is my forum, and yours too. Share with me and the readers what you notice as you go through your day--interesting, stupid or just amusing--let's share them all!

The first thing I noticed yesterday was that it was Father's Day and no one missed it. 95% of the posts on Facebook were about dads--even those people trying to sell a product tied it into Father's Day. I read about young dads, older dads, and even some great memories about dads who have passed away. It was rather refreshing that everyone had something good to say. I felt happy about the world, at least for a day. Even the news had a happy spin on it.

Wouldn't it be a cool thing of every day could be a holiday? People seem happier, more together with each other and actually make each other smile. Why can't we make every day a holiday, like "Smile at the opposite sex day?" or "Shake hands with a different race day?" or "Say hello to everyone day?" We really are all the same inside, that's what the posts I read yesterday were all about. It didn't matter if you are young or old, married or siingle, black or white or whatever--everyone had something in common on this one day-their father. They shared feelings and experiences very openly with anyone who was their "friend." Why can't we all be friends? Why can't every day make us feel like we did yesterday? Can't we all just get along?

"Did Ya' Ever Notice" that we are more alike than different?

When Fate Comes A Knockin'

I have been very lucky lately. My Facebook page for my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" has been getting many, many visits. The book has sold more copies in the last month than it has in the eight months it has been on the market...finally the buzz has caught on! One of the people who visited was Darcia Helle, a suspense writer who has a much bigger following than I do. We exchanged books and did reviews on each other. Darcia spent a lot of time and effort promoting my book, seems she enjoyed what she read. She posted her review all over the internet and also did an interview with me that she posted on her blog, A Word Please.

Because "One Good Turn Deserves Another" here is my review of Miami Snow, Darcia's new book.

Nick Donovan had it all—the wife of his dreams, a big house, a career he loved—but they all left him one day when he arrived home early to find his wife in bed with his best friend. What will he do when fate steps in and changes his life forever?

Sometimes fate has a surprise in store for you and Nick will find this out, but not before his life bottoms out. He is mad at the world, at his ex-wife Shelley in particular, and wallows for a time in self pity. Moving across the state to “find himself” he instead finds Brandy Alexander, named by her father in honor of the alcoholic drink. She is just like the drink--a little sweet, easy on the eyes and an addiction Nick can’t get enough of.
As Nick and Brandy begin a relationship that neither really was looking for, Shelley throws a monkey wrench in their plans. Her baby, who she hoped her new boyfriend was the father of, is actually Nick’s.
Nick didn’t want to be a father this way. He always planned on a family, but not on a short term basis. Instead of thinking about his daughter first, he is hell-bent on torturing Shelley. As he slowly changes his tune and begins to truly love his daughter, Brandy changes too…unfortunately for the worst. Money issues, the love of excitement and smoking weed lead to bigger and more dangerous drugs and adventures.
As fate sometime does, it leads Brandy and Nick on two separate paths…although the relationship continues. Lies and difference of opinions take the place of the daily sex Nick and Brandy share. As Nick matures and grows up living his life for his daughter, Brandy, thinking she is doing the right thing, continues on the path of self destruction.
Not wanting to be a spoiler, that’s where I’ll stop. Just know that fate happens to all of us, but also remember, like Nick says, “Sometimes fate needs a push.” And that all the characters eventually get exactly what they deserve.
Fast paced, interesting characters that are so lifelike that you are sure you know them, and a believably written plot and back story makes “Miami Snow” a must read. Whether you like mystery, suspense, self-help or even romance genres, this has it all.

The longer I am in this business, the more I see that many authors are friendly and will help others out...the complete opposite feeling I had when I first started. Although others are still very much driven by ego and believe that their works are "the best" most are just ordinary people with a story to tell. Thanks to people like Darcia Helle I am enjoying this part of my journey much more.

Tell us about your experineces...leave a comment!

Till next week
Phil

Back to the normal routine

Well it's been a long few weeks. First I was sick, then I had a long two week business trip to Florida and Arizona...but now all that is over and I'm back to the normal grind.
The meeting I was in Arizona was an eventful one. Met many new folks, re-connected with some old friends and sold some books. I'm finding that if you sit in the lobby of any hotel and talk with someone about your book, more are soon to follow...
I was signing a book for an old friend and as we were talking a young lady about 30 sat down next to us and "eavesdropped" until she felt comfortable enough to join in. After buying a book, she asked how long I would be around. I said I'd be in the hotel for three more days and asked why. She said she was going to read the book by the pool and if she liked it would like to meet again for more conversation. So, I gave her my cell number and forgot about her.
The next night I was eating at our company dinner and my phone went off. It was "Cindy." She wanted to meet me in the lobby...so I excused myself and went to see what may come of this chance meeting.
Cindy said that she was very intrigued by my story. As she asked me more and more questions, I felt like I was on an interview or something. After about 20 minutes of questions and answers, Cindy came to her point--she was a buyer for a chain of gift shops, many in hospitals. She asked if she could buy some books for her shops. I am always open to selling my books, as all authors are, so I asked how many she needed. I was stunned when she said 1000. After getting my breath back, we finalized the deal...I thought that was the end of our meeting, but was surprised again as Cindy gave me a list of other buyers that she does business with and suggested I e-mail them all using her as a reference.
This is the second time this has happened to me...the first was back when "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" first came out and a man on a plane ride to Las Vegas bought the same amount from me for his family owned gift shops after seeing the lady next to us start crying as she read my book. I gave it to her as a bribe so I could get some sleep on the plane.
You know I have a few sayings in life that I live buy--but this one is my favorite. "Sometimes it's better to be lucky than smart." All I do is talk about my book, and carry one everywhere, and good things happen.
To those authors out there--how do you market your books? Any good stories like mine floating around? Please share!

Until next week!

Phil

The shortest post I've ever written...

Since I was out sick last week, I need your help. Please share with us any acts of kindness that you witnessed or took part in. I know we will see some great comments.

A Trip Back to the Past Re-Energizes

In my book, "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male...Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex" I tell you about my "Happy Place" and how I found it after listening to my first girlfriend as we discussed some anxious moments that I encountered. She told me to close my eyes and picture the one place I always felt safe and comfortable at. It's been a long time since I visited that location...but had a chance last week to re-explore it.

I had just returned from a week long business trip and was dreading the work week coming up. My days are full of e-mails, phone calls, and social media (both work and personal). I sometimes long for the days before "technology"...the days when you could actually get lost and no one could find you. Long before answering machines, pagers, cell phones and e-mails life seemed so much simpler and much easier to live.

On Sunday morning I couldn't wake up...my throat was sore, my head was pounding, and I was way too congested. I knew I was sick and that it would only get worse with time. I used all the energy I could muster and went to my computer...I sent a quick e-mail to my work team saying that I was going to be out for a few days and that they would need to find other means of help if they needed it. Then I went to my facebook page and stated that I wasn't going to post for a few days. Finally, I did the impossible...I turned off my cell phone.

For the next few days, I couldn't get out of bed. I slept, I tossed and turned, and I found myself alternating between being way too hot and way too cold. I thought I was miserable.

On Thursday I felt better, but still not well enough to get out of bed. I lay on my bed looking for a sign that all would be better. That's when I fell asleep and ended up back at my "Happy Place." I "awoke" and felt the bright sunshine beating down on my face. The aromas from my past--hamburgers being grilled on an open campfire, the smell of freshly cut green grass, and the lingering scent coming from the seaweed that had washed upon the beach over night--all were present. I knew I was in Wisconsin at my great-grandparent's cottage which meant so much to me as I grew up. After what seemed to me like being there forever, just taking in the view of the lake from the hillside I was laying on, I suddenly awoke for real. I was in my own bed, but was feeling much better.

The next day I woke up bright and early feeling totally refreshed...but I wasn't done yet. I dreaded turning on my cell phone and listening to all the recorded voicemails. I could not believe that after 5 days there were no voicemails at all. I did have one text message from a phone number that I didn't recognize. It said, "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." When I tried to call the number, it was disconnected.

Next, I turned on my computer to await the hundreds of e-mails that I assumed were awaiting my return from the dead. On my work system, which normally handled over 100 e-mails a day, I was surprised to say the least when there were only 12 e-mails. No one besides my team knew I was sick...and in fact all eight of my team members sent me the same message..."Relax, you have trained us well...we'll take care of everything."

I wondered what was happening...could this be a hidden sign for me to understand?

As I clicked onto my personal e-mail, again I was surprised when only 20 e-mails showed up (many days I get well over 20 spam e-mails a day alone.) I clicked on some of the "important" ones and found out that there were no important ones at all. I was dumbfounded, but not as confused as I was about to become. The last e-mail bore the name of a person I did not know, but I felt compelled to open it. When I did, I read "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." I attempted to reply to this e-mail, but was a little disappointed when I got a quick return saying that the e-mail address did not exist and could not be delivered.

I went to my facebook page to see many of my friends leaving me notes of encouragement and the hopes that my sickness would disappear quickly.

I went back to my bed to ponder what all this meant. This is what I came up...tell me your opinions of it, please!

In this world that moves way too fast sometimes, one where people feel much more important than they really are, and the feeling of not having anytime alone to themselves anymore, I was able to find out that all this is false. The world DOES move fast, but you control just how fast. I am no more important than anyone else in this world, and there is always time to go to your "Happy Place" if you make the effort.

I say in my book that God works in miraculous ways...and I believe this was His way of saying to me "Slow down and relax..." I don't know if God knows how to text message, or how to send e-mails, or can control how much others need you from time to time, but I do know He cares for all of us...and sometimes interacts with you to allow you to make the best of it.

Till next week,
Phil

Courtesy...Is it a Thing of the Past?

Growing up and referenced many times in my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" is a thing called courtesy--treating others with the respect they deserve. You know things like holding open a door for the next person to step through or holding an elevator, possibly using your turn signal when changing lanes or turning, and always walking to the right of the middle. These all used to be common place occurrences you would see every day. But something has happened...where have these things gone?
People seem to be much more "me" orientated these days...gone are the days of helping others or even just being friendly. What I see daily are people fighting over the last sample at a Costco demo cart, sneaking into someone else's parking space and it seems like no one even smiles at each other any more. When is the last time you said good morning to a stranger?
So with all this happening why should I be surprised that business courtesy is also missing--all businesses are run by these same people.
This subject came up as I was discussing book reviews with my editor. He asked how things were going and my reply was "There doesn't seem to be any trust any more in the world. I am getting e-mails daily from "respectable" companies or people who would love to read and review my book. They say they have read the first 25 pages from my website http://www.philipnork.com/ and really would like the opportunity to help promote my book. So I send them a copy, spending $5.00 for a postage fee, and wait...and wait...and wait! One out of every 4 of these businesses never get back to me. Does that mean they never received the book, or maybe read it and didn't like it, or possibly was it a scam just to get a free book? "
I don't have the answers...maybe I don't even know the questions anymore...but all I ask is for a quick e-mail explaining why there is no review done. If you don't like the book, that's fine. If you didn't understand it, no problem, if it just wasn't your cup of tea, I truly understand. What I don't get is why you spend your time e-mailing me in the first place and then never follow through.
Courtesy...is it a thing of the past? Or am I just ranting on and on about nothing? Come on authors, I am sure you have had this or something like this happen to you. Please share your vents here with me...maybe we can make a difference!

A roller coaster of a week...

Last week reminded me of growing up--there were so many ups and downs, goods and bads, and just plain old emotional stuff that I was finally glad it ended.
To start the week on Sunday, I had my ten year old son call his grandmother in Illinois to wish her a happy 70th birthday. They talked for a while and then it was my turn. As my mom and I hung up I felt the tug of tears come over me and wished that we lived closer than the distance between Illinios and Nevada. After gaining control, I read the parts of my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" which pertained to her and started crying again. This time it was more from a sense of happiness rather than a sad reason.
On Tuesday I went and picked up my son from school, stopped for a Starbucks and preceeded home. As we walked into the front door we were surprised by the presence of two ladies sitting on our couch talking to my wife...it was my sister and my mom. Nowhere in the converstaion of a few days earlier did she mention she was coming to visit. It turned out to be my sisters birthday present to her...but it also was a gift to me and my son.
After spending a few days together and reconnecting, they left and those sad feelings came over me again. But that was nothing in comparision to what happened on Friday. I got an e-mail on facebook from one of my old friends from back home...she was worried about her ex-husband, one of my best friends. He had just learned that his father had terminal cancer and only had a few months to live. His dad was one of only a handful of men I ever trusted growing up--he was like a second father to me, actually a first father as mine had left years earlier. I called my friend and we shared old times and left with the understanding that his dad would be out of pain soon and that he should celebrate the times left.
I was feeling rather down after these events and it made me think about age and how time never stops passing us by. That took me back to my grandmother and great-grandmother, I talk about them in the book, and again the feelings of depression came over me...actually it was more of a feeling of remembrance.
On Saturday morning I woke up to another e-mail, this one from a lady who read my book and reviewed it. It turned my whole week around. Nicole wrote a great review and asked me for an interview. You can read both of them at Books, Books Everywhere.
It is now Monday and I am looking for an act of kindness. I guess that all three of these times above fall into that category. To my mom and my sister for just being themselves and for coming to see us, to my best friend's dad for being there back when I needed someone and finally to Nicole for making me feel good about my book again, Sometimes I wonder if anyone really "gets" the book, but then someone like her comes along and reads exactly what I wrote. Thanks to you all!

Till next week!
Phil

Book Review-Musical Chairs

Last week I was sending out requests to other authors seeing if anyone wanted to review my book Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male and was pleased when Jen Knox replied back to me. Jen asked if I wanted to do a cross promotion--one where she read my book and I read hers. Since I had never done that before, and it sounded interesting, I agreed. So, here is my act of kindness for this week--my first book review.

In Musical Chairs by Jen Knox, we get to see the honest and painful story of one girl's past. As you learn about her running away from not only her family, but in reality from herself for a while, you can feel the pain she suffers. As she tries to fill the void, she falls into other vices--bad relationships, friendships that don't work out, alcohol, drugs and becoming invloved in the less than perfect occupation of stripping--and it is a wonder she feels the need to continune on. Not beng a woman myself, I can only imagine that other young girls feel the same things at times and hope that they take different measures in order to find themselves.

It is ironic that the way Jen "comes back to life" is through trips to visit her grandmother, who is slowly losing her own life to mental illness. And although at first Jen is apprehensive, these trips let her re-unite with the great-grandmother she never met and allows her to connect emotionally to her. Despite all this and her constant batlle fighting her own panic attacks, finally Jen is reunited with the family she once ran away from and reconciliation is complete for now. But I'm sure there is more to the story...

Honest, hard-hitting and sometime hard to believe, Musical Chairs is not your typical "feel-good" get lost for a few hours book. It is a real life, sometimes hard to read, book about recovery and inner self. The author bares her soul and allows the reader to see that not all is perfect about life, but that with hard work you can through most anything. You must credit Jen for her honesty and for being strong enough to let her story be known.

So there you have it, my first book review. Any comments, how'd I do?

Until next week

Phil