Cindy Bradford, Ph.D., Author

Cindy Bradford's Author Blog

Blog

Keeping Faith – Phase II

By

Keeping Faith is now in the hands of “the big boys and girls of publishing.” The final edit is complete, the fonts and paper weight/texture selected and all the other loose ends tied. Like a parent watching a kid leave for college, I have mixed emotions. On one hand I am much relieved and glad to get it off and gone, but at the same time I’m a bit sad. There is a certain void and a sense of loss, because after all, it took with it a part of my heart and soul, not to mention loads of sweat and a few tears, plus an insurmountable amount of my time.

Yet in a few weeks it, like a boomerang kid, will be back in final draft/publication form begging for more attention. I will be very happy to see it arrive. And then I will be happy for it to leave again because shortly thereafter, maybe by late November, the BOOK will be welcomed at my house with an abundance of cheers and celebration! Perhaps, a toast or two will be in order.

I know the release date is foggy and vague, and more than anyone, I would love to have specifics and share them with you. There is, however, no exact way to tell how long it will take to transition through each publication phase. Amazon is saying, however, that once it is “print ready,” for me, it will take another two to three weeks to be available. Therefore, a good estimate is that it can probably be ordered in late November/early December. Let’s keep our fingers crossed, but as one who last year went through house renovations and then repairs after Hurricane Dolly, I know to expect the unexpected.

Blogging Is A Contact Sport

By

Blogging is a contact sport. I’m beating myself up!!! I have learned that I must start winding down my blog writing earlier in the day because when I go to bed late into the night after writing, my body is ready, but my mind isn’t! I am too wired. Even if I do go to sleep quickly, I wake up in the wee hours of the morning with the most recent blog on my mind, thinking of changes, additions, deletions, etc. So, I have officially decided all writing must end by 5:00 p.m.  That’s somewhat of a significant time for me anyway so that will work well.

I can sit outside, look at the water and let my mind “chill out”. Then I can return to what was my schedule, before I embarked on this web site, of watching HGTV, Food Network, The Travel Channel and cable news. Exciting, huh?

Speaking of television–last week my cable was out for four days.  I missed seeing the cable company’s advertisement of “outstanding, quality service guaranteed” for four whole days while I steamed and called them repeatedly to try to arrange for quicker service, all to no avail. It’s not that I am a TV fanatic. On most days I can live with or without it, but I guess it is all about just knowing I couldn’t watch, that got me so fired up. Of course, I handled it with much aplomb and patience.  If you believe that then I’ll make you a very special deal on the book!!!

I am much calmer now, but still interested in talking to the local dish or Direct TV provider.  I am, however, frustrated at myself for being the least amount dependent on cable, but I am a creature of habit, and finding out what ridiculous political quote or dumb law Congress enacted on a particular day is just a part of my journalist background (I think I failed to say in my biographical sketch that I was a reporter for a local newspaper when I was in college, but please don’t hold that against me).

So seven days a week I watch and listen to world events. Several years ago, when my great nephew, who loves TV was about four and my niece was visibly upset by the loss of her mother-in-law, he tried to comfort her by saying, “It’s okay Mom, at least we still have cable.”

There was little consolation for me during that time of lost news, weather, design shows, and reviews of exotic places to visit. Some good did come from the inconvenience since I did use some of that time wisely by continuing my editing, along with various and sundry tasks that I never knew before were required in getting a book to completion.

Some of you have emailed me or commented on the web site, asking whether KEEPING FAITH will be available on Kindle.  That is in the works so all you “techy-type readers should be taken care of if all goes to plan.  I’ll let you know as soon as that is complete. You will be able to order from Amazon the same way you would order a print version.

The Q-Tips Are Coming

By

They’re coming! At first I noticed a few Iowa plates and then Minnesota began to trickle in.  Before long there will be a sea of Midwest license plates all over the island.  The Q-Tips are back for another season.  They call themselves Winter Texans or Snowbirds.  We call them Q-Tips because they wear white tennis shoes and have white hair. Tennis shoes, always, and t-shirts from Branson and other exotic places they have been, and not necessarily since last year. Some of these t-shirts look as worn and wrinkled as their faces, not that there is anything wrong with worn and wrinkled faces; I’m not far away.

Occasionally, I see the more fashion conscious Winter Texan wearing SAS shoes.  If you are not familiar with SAS shoes, then you aren’t around enough older people. Just wait, you will; they will be called “your friends.” Actually, these folks are just slightly older than I am, and extremely active, but they are just different than us locals or so we like to think.

The Q-Tips come in all sizes and shapes, and they are from a number of colder states, but it is their mode of transportation and the teams they root for that distinguishes them. You don’t even want to be within 20 feet of a big screen television when the Hoosiers are playing! And God help us if Green Bay is playing the Cowboys.

Now they are equally identified by their carriages and abodes.  The ones who stay in condos drive Lincoln Towne Cars and occasionally Cadillacs—the big ones. The fifth-wheel people drive those big ole diesel “doolies” (honestly I am not sure how this is spelled) with the double cabs.  I can hear them three streets over as they drive through the neighborhood on lazy Sunday afternoons.

The motor home owners kick around in Jeep Cherokees or similar mid-size SUVs, painted in the same color as their winter home. Now, I have no problem with that. I love matchy-matchy.  It drives my eclectic friends crazy (you know who you are).  None of those off center hanging pictures for me.  Line them up, the straighter the better.  I mean really, would you if you had a choice want one leg shorter than the other? Then why would you want a bunch of mismatched stuff when you can have it all matching?

Well, back to the Q-Tips.  They assign themselves to the same structure that we used to place kids in school before we got so politically correct— ability groups. Most of  it is determined by financial means, but another factor is a shared interests like fishing, bingo, golf, etc. There are even financial sub-groups to all those areas—boat owners vs. surf fisher people. This becomes way too complicated and nothing you really need to think about unless you live here and then those patterns and timeframes are important.

But not to worry about these groups, they put themselves that way.  The park model and/or fifth-wheel folks hang out together, sitting out under their awnings, swapping stories over a pot of coffee in the morning or knocking off a beer or two in the early afternoon. The condo people hit the communal game rooms for pot luck or sit at the pools drawing in the warm rays of a South Texas winter. Everyone is happy, and almost always they are in these groups, everywhere; a group to the beach, to the bars, to Mexico, to dine.  If you see a winter Texan by himself, you know he is lost.

I am friends with some of these people, and I hope to get to know many more of them as Keeping Faith hits the market.  These people are bright, articulate, wise with years, and many of them like to read novels.  Guess I better find my way to the condo pools and the Winter Texan hangouts. Guess I better not call them Q-Tips—they just might buy my book!

The Novel Nazi

By

Gayle's Team Wins Redfish Rodeo
Gayle's Team Wins Redfish Rodeo

This past weekend reminded me why I love living at South Padre Island. Saturday was a perfectly gorgeous day, with blue skies and puffy white clouds, a hint of coolness in the air and not a ripple on the Laguna Madre.

After a nice breakfast out, I came home and hunkered down to talk long distance to my agent, Chris, who I now refer to as the “Novel Nazi” because she never lets up on me.  Of course, she never lets up on herself either.  This woman is a Task Mistress!!! She could find a missing semi-colon in the Bible if she took to looking, and if  I think I have done all the blogging, editing, posting, whatever, that I possibly can do in a day, she calls to remind me that she expects more!! MORE? How much more?

Well, at a little before 1:00, I sneaked out to go to the weighing-in at the “Redfish Rodeo,” an annual fishing tournament for 30 teams of women who come from all over the United States and Canada. I had never been before but my good friend, Gayle, who you were introduced to in another blog, was on a team.

I figured I would just say hello and come back home, but as one, with more sense than me, would expect that didn’t happen.  One boat was late from technical difficulties, which did not disqualify the team. So the weigh-in was postponed about 30 minutes while the event planners ad-libbed and others mingled.

I did meet a local store owner who offered to host a book signing so that was profitable. Anyway, I would have just left, but Gayle insisted that she felt certain her team was in the top ten. My conscience began to get the best of me; I called Chris to explain my delay in getting back to book work and promised I would work late if I needed to!! I didn’t mention that I had a glass of wine in my hand.  It just felt right.

Louie’s Backyard was brimming with happy people, fishing gear was stashed in every corner to remind folks why they were there, and conversation was fun and spirited.  I couldn’t leave, besides other people I know had gathered to support the team. It would look bad if I left.

Two hours later, the winners were announced—-my friend’s team had won 1st place in the tournament, after eight years of competing. It was worth the wait! And did I mention it was a beautiful day to be outdoors!

Sunday was a work day.  I’m sure the Task Mistress was much happier!

Behind the Curtain

By

You know from my ABOUT page that traveling is a passion of mine, and in mid-October I am flying to Quito, Ecuador to serve on a school accreditation team.  From there I’m going to the Galapagos Islands so I am really looking forward to that experience and hope that Keeping Faith will be available on Amazon when I return. You’ll be the first to know because it will be advertised right here on the web site.

I love traveling, but I don’t love flying although I have logged more than 40,000 miles on planes this year. One reason I probably don’t enjoy the going and coming is because I fly economy which means I sit in the “no class section” of the plane.  Not only am I packed in like a salted sardine, the food is bad, the drinks are slow arriving and the people next to me are usually not any happier about being in this part of the plane as I am.

I know the little kids aren’t because they are crying, drooling and otherwise fretting.  I want to join them, but I know others would not be as patient with me. But at least now I have acquired so many points that I have an elite status which means I can now sit in rows where I can see people in first class.  They are just different you know–a little more composed, relaxed, smug.

On a recent trip from Peru I had my first experience actually sitting in that section because my friend Gayle, who is a classy gal, pulled some strings or used points or something for me to sit with her.  The only problem was because of the train ride to and from Machu Picchu, coupled with the high altitude in Cusco and the food poisoning in Lima, I was left a bit spent and unable to enjoy the amenities as much as I know I could on another occasion.

Also, although I will be eternally grateful to my friend, I have curmudgeon tendencies so I kept thinking, why couldn’t this pleasure been used on my almost 14 hour trip from Houston to Tokyo or on the long, boring trips to Europe or Egypt. Destinations in South America don’t usually require the long hours or cause the dreaded jet lag that others do. But it was, nonetheless, long enough to get me accustomed to a better mode of transport, and I will have a difficult time returning to my tiny seat BEHIND THE CURTAIN.

My Day Gig

By

Finding time for “novel” work has been hard these last few days.  I have been doing some consulting in an area high school (the name I won’t reveal to protect the innocent or guilty, depending on one’s perspective and/or day’s events).

Often times between school accreditation visits and consulting I forget what it is like to get up by an alarm clock! Geez, 5:30 a.m. is the middle of the night! Now, nothing, absolutely nothing, except a couple of breakfast diners and the fishing piers are open before 10:00 a.m. on this island, so why don’t the area schools get smart and run on the same schedule??

There are some lessons here, lessons that we learn in retirement, although I think I knew it years ago, but didn’t have the research to support the findings.  People are a lot fresher, more amenable, just plain sweeter in temperament at 10:00 in the morning. I am one of those people, although I do rise much earlier; I simply do not shine. I think just the screech of the alarm clock, shocking a person from a nice, drooly sleep has something to do with it, and although I can’t substantiate that one, I can vouch for it.

But aside from getting up early, the worst, the very worst part of the whole preparation for a day of work is the pantyhose deal.  I vowed when I retired, not to ever, ever wear pantyhose again except in the event of a funeral. Heck, down here you don’t even need them for a wedding.  Barefoot is acceptable although I haven’t quite adapted to that way of thinking; a person should at least wear flip-flops to a solemn occasion where two people make promises “til death do they part”.  But as a professional educator I simply feel the need to fit the expected role and with that comes the wearing of pantyhose and high heels (now there is a whole different blog).

I hate pantyhose; I have always hated them and I see no reason to change my feelings in this stage of my life. There is just something radically wrong with stuffing one’s lower body into a tiny sliver of stretch nylon that in 100 degree weather sticks to the skin like cellophane wrap.  I think if they had made the terrorist prisoners at Gitmo wear pantyhose for one month and then given them the choice between wearing pantyhose or being water boarded they would have gladly chosen the later; I know I would.

And one more thing, have you seen those women with pantyhose and shorts—together?  What in the world are they thinking? It is like those old men who wear Bermuda (do they still call them that?) shorts and knee high socks.  Unless they have a medical reason that their knees need to breathe, it just doesn’t seem right. But I digress.

Once I am up and dressed and in the school I am good to go. After all, it is a good gig.  I get to feel good about sharing my educational expertise and best practices of instructional effectiveness to teachers, and then I learn so much more about emerging trends and fashions from students. What is good about life in a school today is that there is no way one can tell the rich from the poor—they all look poor in their torn, worn out jeans and faded t-shirts, wrinkled and frayed to style. Everybody needs haircuts so nobody notices the kid who can’t afford it.  And vocabulary—what better place to learn how verbs become adjectives and adverbs before my very ears.  I never knew some words could do that—amazing!

And I love to go out in the halls during passing periods (for all you non-educators that is the “very long adult five minutes” and “never enough time for  students” period that occurs between classes way too many times a day), when kids are passing…..God knows what! But it is, indeed, an educational experience. But I am sounding like I did 30 years ago and repeating what I heard my teachers say years before that. It is true that the more things change, the more they stay the same.  Surely there is another book in all this somewhere!