Real Birth by Robin Greene

May 9, 2018

Robin Greene serves as Professor of English and Writing, and Director of the Writing Center at Methodist University in Fayetteville, NC. She is a past recipient of a cosponsored National Endowment of Arts and North Carolina Arts Council Fellowship in Writing, the Al Cleveland Award for Teaching, the Best Professor of the Year Award, and the McLean Endowed Chair of English

In addition to her university teaching, Greene teaches writing at an annual writing, yoga, and meditation retreat for women in Oaxaca, Mexico. Click on http://www.oaxacaculture.com to learn more about this retreat

Greene has published four books —two volumes of poetry (Memories of Light and Lateral Drift), a novel (Augustus: Narrative of a Slave Woman) and two editions of Real Birth: Women Share Their Stories. She regularly publishes poems, fiction, and creative nonfiction in literary journals and has about ninety publications to her credit

The Shelf Life of Fire, Greene’s new novel, is scheduled for release from Light Messages in April 2019

Greene received an MA in English Literature from Binghamton University and an MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Art. With her husband, Greene co-founded Longleaf Press, Methodist University’s literary press http://www.methodist.edu/longleaf/

Available for readings, writing workshops for pregnant women and new mothers, and for workshops and presentations on creative writing, academic writing, and grammar, Greene can be reached at greene.robin@gmail.com or through her website http://www.robingreene-writer.com

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Intimate and intensely personal, the forty-five first-person narratives contained in Real Birth: Women Share Their Stories offer readers a window into the complex and emotionally exciting experience of childbirth. Women from a full range of socioeconomic backgrounds and circumstances recount the childbirth choices they’ve made and the ways those choices have played themselves out in the real life contexts of their everyday lives.

Readers meet women from all over the country who speak to us directly––no interviewer intrudes, no judgments intrude, and no single method of childbirth is advocated. Instead, these women offer us their candid experiences, presented clearly and unflinchingly. Medically reviewed by physicians Dr. Richard Randolph for the first edition and Dr. Deborah Morris for this second edition, Real Birth offers readers a plethora of correct information as well the kind of real scoop that other books and health care professionals are often reluctant to reveal. The result is a well-grounded book that reaches across the boundaries of childbirth literature.

Real Birth is introduced by Ariel Gore, journalist, editor, writer, and founding editor/publisher of Hip Mama, an Alternative Press Award-winning publication about the culture of motherhood. Also included are an extensive glossary of medical terms, a thoroughly researched selective bibliography, and a list of resources of interest to pregnant women and new moms

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Snippet:

Emergency C-Section

We meet Julia in the hospital at the moment that the doctor tells her that she needs to have a C-section…

The doctor was the one who suggested the C-section. At the time it felt like the baby’s head was just banging against the inside of my cervix. If I had been able to walk around on my feet rather than having to stay in bed-who knows? You never know what could have happened.

It was like I was in this little brick box, beating my head against the wall. I felt like, Let me out; let me out! This has to stop! I couldn’t see any way out. By 4:00 in the morning, I thought I was on my way to success… that I was going to have my baby and that there was a way to finish this whole great big project. But now I was in this box, and I just could not get out. He was inside of me going, bang, bang-like this battering. When we decided to have the C-section, everything relaxed.

By about 6:00 a.m., the surgical team was all there for the C-section. The nurses and anesthetist came in first. He was really good. He very calmly and concisely explained to me what was going to happen-and I was in there screaming at him: “Okay, okay, just do it. I’ve made the decision, now I just want to get it over with!”

I wanted to be awake, so I had an epidural. I had heard all these stories about how it hurt, but I didn’t feel it when they stuck the needle in. The doctor checked me one more time, but I still hadn’t progressed. When they gave me the epidural, I could just feel this blanket of relaxation creeping up over my toes, my knees, then my stomach. I was concerned a little because I wasn’t holding back anymore and assumed my body was still contracting. But the pain and mania I had before, the panic I was gripped by, just let go.

They took me into the surgery room. I didn’t feel the cut or anything. It was the same feeling you have at the dentist when he’s drilling your teeth. You know what’s happening, you feel what’s happening, but it’s not painful. I just felt this little pulling feeling, and I kept trying to look over the shield that they had. But they wouldn’t let me. They were talking about contaminating the field and were firm about that. As soon as they got him out, they showed him to me. Then they cleaned him up and took his Apgar scores. They were really good.

I remember when they first pulled him out. I could hear him cry-it was a gurgly sound, and my husband was there. He had a Polaroid camera-we didn’t do any of that video stuff. Bill followed the doctors and nurses just to take pictures all the time, so I was able to see later what he looked like when he was first born. He was perfect, except for a little nick above his right eye-I think from the scalpel.

For about the first three months after having the baby, I was very, very depressed about the C-section. My mom was very mindful of watching for signs of postpartum depression because I’d been treated for bad depression about ten years before. It was just outpatient care and counseling I needed. And my mother had had postpartum depression when she had us. It got progressively worse with each baby, and when she had her last and third child, my sister, my mom was hospitalized for a while.
My mother’s situation was different than mine; she was very isolated. But, nonetheless, I was very concerned and told everyone around me all the signs to watch for. Also, about a month after the delivery, I got a uterine infection. I was having back pain which kept getting worse and worse. Then I started running a high temperature of about 103. I went in to the doctor, and he gave me antibiotics. The infection cleared up within twelve hours.

For a while after Joey’s birth, I couldn’t watch or listen to the sounds of childbirth. My mom rented this movie and a baby was being born in it. I had to walk into another room-I just couldn’t watch. Everybody says, “The most important thing is that the baby is okay.” And that’s what I kept telling myself, but it sounded so hollow.

I kept feeling that I was being selfish because I didn’t feel right about the whole birth experience. I mean, it wasn’t what we expected or planned for. It took me a full year to get over my feelings, to finally come to terms with my C-section. Now, it doesn’t bother me much anymore.

What helped me to get over it was the realization that I was not the only person who felt that way. I read and looked for material that dealt with C-sections and VBACs. I definitely was not the only woman who felt inadequate or that I’d been cheated because I’d had a C-section. Also, I came to understand that wanting a vaginal birth wasn’t a matter of being selfish and that it was okay to feel sad about the whole thing. Also, it helped to take care of Joey; I’d look at him and think, It was all worth it, no matter what I went through. And that’s the bottom line. I didn’t have to feel guilty about feeling guilty. It just happened, and I didn’t have any control over it.

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Tarragon Dragon Bane Exp 1

May 8, 2018

The Revenants are coming.

Only recently woken from their centuries’ long slumber, the dragons are unprepared to face them. But when a legend is uncovered, revealing the existence of a lost tribe of mages, hope flickers to life.

The race is on as Tyler Durand and Anwen Kaida rush to find this missing tribe while the others prepare for their last stand. But time and numbers are against them, and Anwen fears that even if they find the lost mages, it will be too late.

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Karlie Lucas is a preschool teacher by day and a writer/artist by night.A graduate of Southern Utah University, Karlie received a B.A. in Creative Writing, with a minor in art. She is a member of Sigma Tau Delta, The International English Honor Society, as well as ANWA, the American Night Writers Association.

Karlie is interested in all things magical and mysterious, especially elves and dragons. She is an avid fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.

When not writing, Karlie can often be found drawing, baking, watching her favorite old school shows, or just spending time with her family.

She currently resides in Dallas, Texas with her husband and a cat named Kally

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Walter looked between the two, watching the invisible sparks fly. Leslie was a force to be reckoned with, but she was no match for Tyler. “You know,” he commented, “I would pay to watch you and Anwen have a go at each other.”

Anwen gave him a dirty look. “Really? What happened to being my friend? I thought you were on my side.”

The veteran shrugged, aware that the others had turned their attention to him as well. “Oh I am. I just think it would be interesting to watch. In fact, I’d pay good money for that opportunity. You’re not going to improve unless you can go against someone who’ll test your skills. Why not her?” He pointed his thumb at the Walker.

“Are you kidding me?” Anwen balked. “She’d make mincemeat of me! Even Courtney’s better at this whole mage thing than I am! And you want me to go up against the best person in this place? Are you insane?”

Walter only smiled as he folded his arms across his chest as he made himself comfortable. “You want to learn your craft? I can’t think of any better way. Margo would say the same thing. You know she would.”

Anwen shook her head. “Can you please leave my mother out of this? We all know she was an overachiever who pushed everyone to their limits. I really don’t need this right now.”

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600 Days In Hiding by Andreas Algava

May 7, 2018

FTC: I received a free copy of this book from Pump Up Your Book in exchange for my honest review. I received no other compensation and the opinions expressed in this review are one hundred percent true and my own.

600 Days In Hiding by Andreas Algava was an amazing book. If you have read any of my other reviews you will know how much I love books like this one. I say that because I love learning about true stories from WWII and this one was amazing. I would read this book while I was at work answering the phones and I had to stop reading it while I was there because this book brought me to tears quite a few times. Once I started reading this book I didn’t want to put it down. As I read this book I was left thinking how much things that are happening today in this country and some of the same things that happened to these people all those years ago. This book left me broken hearted for all of the people lost their lives and we will never know their stories. This book was so well written that I can’t wait to read more books by him in the future. This book won’t be for everyone because it deals with tough topics but it is also something that I think more people need to read and learn about so that we don’t repeat these things in the future.

About The Book

Title: 600 DAYS IN HIDING
Author: Andreas Algava with Daniel Levine
Publisher: For Passion Publishing Company, LLC
Pages: 424
Genre: Memoir

The Nazis invaded Salonika, Greece in April 1941. Within two years, the city’s Jews were shipped by cattle cars to the Auschwitz death camp. There were just three families who stayed in the city and survived because of the courage and kindness of Greek citizens who risked their lives and hid these Jewish families in their homes. Among the survivors were Andrew “Andreas” Algava, who was three years old at the time, and his family. They were five of 56,000 Jews who had lived in Salonika.

Algava, who moved to the United States at the age of seven, has written a gripping account of his family’s experience of survival titled 600 DAYS IN HIDING (600DaysInHiding.com). His memoir stands beside such classics of Holocaust literature as THE DIARY OF ANNE FRANK, Elie Wiesel’s NIGHT, Primo Levi’s SURVIVAL IN AUSCHWITZ, and Nechama Tec’s DEFIANCE.

Two excerpts from 600 DAYS IN HIDING dramatically illustrate Algava’s intention to “communicate the humanity or inhumanity of how we choose to respond to each other.” The first scene takes place in a graveyard:

“Henri stood at the edge of the massive Jewish cemetery sprawling before him. The crypts and headstones extended for thousands of meters in all directions, a vast city of gravestones marking the remains of Jewish men, women, and children buried here during the past 450 years. At one end of the enormous cemetery a small army of several hundred Greek workers were busy with shovels and pickaxes, tearing up the gravesites, pillaging for treasure. Henri watched with a mix of astonishment and horror as Thessaloniki’s Jewish history was being destroyed before his eyes, forever.”

The second excerpt describes the family’s first perilous night as they go into hiding from the Nazis:

“Marcos looked at Allegra. ‘I think the most danger we will face tonight will be from Andreas.’

‘What do you mean?’ Allegra asked, taking a short breath.

‘We agreed he should come with me so if you are caught, he will have his freedom. Is he prepared to play the game we talked about? Being quiet and not paying attention to you?’

‘I think so,’ Allegra replied. ‘He’s old enough.’ Marcos looked at the sleeping child and knew their fate rested with him.

…‘Remember,’ whispered Marcos, as they were about to open the apartment’s door, ‘stay in three separate groups. We’ll gather at the trolley stop on Martiou Street. When you’re out of the ghetto, tear off the stars and put them in your pocket. We’ll get off at Saint Sophie as planned. Whatever happens, just stay calm. We’ll be all right.’ He looked at each of them, and made his face relax with a little smile to reassure them. ‘They look ready,’ he thought.

…A knock on the door and a thin narrow face greeted them quietly. Quickly the six travelers entered. Allegra saw it was a small room in a poor house with a dirt floor. …‘Welcome, welcome,’ said Pachis. ‘It isn’t much, but we can shelter you. Your room is over here,’ and he walked to a room with a curtain as its door. ‘We have some blankets you can use,’ Pachis said, indicating a small pile of old wool blankets.

…‘Good night,’ said Marcos. ‘You’ll be safe here, for a while at least.’

‘Thank you, Marcos,’ Allegra said. ‘We are grateful.’

‘I’m glad to help.’ Turning to go, he said softly, ‘I’ll return tomorrow with a few of the things you said you wanted. It may take a few trips, but I’ll get them here. Get some sleep,’ and he stepped through the open doorway, drawing the drape across the opening.

Quickly setting up a sleeping area, soon everyone had settled down. Henri took his place beside Allegra and his son, and though he was very tired and drained, he stayed awake, still edgy. Eventually the sounds of slumber lulled him to sleep as the night yielded to the dawn of their first day in hiding.”

600 DAYS in HIDING is well-positioned for adaptation as a film. Such a production would provide a powerful thematic counterpoint to news stories about current political upheaval and the drumbeat of dehumanization in the United States and throughout the world.

Algava also notes that he is writing a sequel to 600 DAYS IN HIDING that will address “how as individuals and as society we came to be.” He adds that writing his inspiring story “absolutely energizes me. It’s the fulfillment of a dream.”

About The Author

Andreas Algava was born in Thessaloniki, Greece in 1939, the only son of Henri Algava and Allegra Carasso-Algava. When Andreas was 16 months old, Hitler’s forces invaded the country of his birth. Having to decide whether to believe the Nazi propaganda about a safe haven for Jews in Poland or go into hiding and risk execution, Andreas’s parents chose the latter relying on the courage and character of their Christian friends.

After the war, the Algava family moved to New York City and became U.S. citizens. Andreas became known as Andrew who later attended Cornell University where he earned an engineering degree. This was followed by military service in the U. S. Army including a tour of duty in France. After military service, Andrew worked with his father in the family export business in the United States and Argentina.

He joined IBM and worked on assignment in Germany where he lived with his wife, Priscilla and where his two daughters, Alisa and Carin were born. Andreas now lives in Rhode Island to be close to his daughters, son-in-law Michael and grandchildren Drew and Sabria.

Algava wrote 600 Days in Hiding: A Jewish Family in Nazi-Occupied Thessaloniki Greece to tell the story of his family’s survival during the Greek Holocaust. Andreas regards his book as his declaration for people to live in peace and harmony and a warning to not repeat the horrors of the past.

“Writing my Family’s story energizes me; it’s a fulfillment of a dream.” He plans to write a sequel to 600 Days in Hiding to address “How as individuals and society we are making very bad choices and need to take appropriate actions.”

The author is available for media interviews and speaking engagements in hopes of inspiring others to take action to create a more just world.

The author is committed to his personal mission: “To empower myself and others to manifest generosity, kindness, forgiveness and compassion for myself and for others to relieve the suffering in the world.”

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My Oxford Year by Julia Whelan

May 7, 2018

FTC: I received a free copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest review. I received no other compensation and the opinions expressed in this review are one hundred percent true and my own.

My Oxford Year by Julia Whelan was an interesting book. While I was reading this book, I wanted to go to England because I was interested because of this author writing. I loved following along as Ella went through her year and how she grew and changed as the book progressed. I am not going to give any spoilers because the ending of this book did surprise me which doesn’t usually happen with this genre of books. When I first started reading this book I wasn’t that into it because I was so sure that I knew how it was going to end but once I realized that I was wrong I didn’t put it down until I knew how it was going to end. I think that is one of the reasons that I fell in love with this book because I wasn’t able to figure out what was going to happen even if I did figure out some of the events before they happened. I know if you love this genre of books that you will love this book as much as I do.

About The Book

American Ella Durran has had the same plan for her life since she was thirteen: Study at Oxford. At 24, she’s finally made it to England on a Rhodes Scholarship when she’s offered an unbelievable position in a rising political star’s presidential campaign. With the promise that she’ll work remotely and return to DC at the end of her Oxford year, she’s free to enjoy her Once in a Lifetime Experience. That is, until a smart-mouthed local who is too quick with his tongue and his car ruins her shirt and her first day. When Ella discovers that her English literature course will be taught by none other than that same local, Jamie Davenport, she thinks for the first time that Oxford might not be all she’s envisioned. But a late-night drink reveals a connection she wasn’t anticipating finding and what begins as a casual fling soon develops into something much more when Ella learns Jamie has a life-changing secret. Immediately, Ella is faced with a seemingly impossible decision: turn her back on the man she’s falling in love with to follow her political dreams or be there for him during a trial neither are truly prepared for. As the end of her year in Oxford rapidly approaches, Ella must decide if the dreams she’s always wanted are the same ones she’s now yearning for.

About The Author

Julia Whelan is a screenwriter, lifelong actor, and award-winning audiobook narrator. She graduated with a degree in English and creative writing from Middlebury College and Oxford University. While she was in England, her flirtation with tea blossomed into a full-blown love affair, culminating in her eventual certification as a tea master.

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Selahs Painted Dream by Susan Count

May 7, 2018

Instilled with the need to create, I love building projects and writing adventure stories. I’m a life-long equestrian and owned by a Rocky Mountain Horse. I adore grandchildren, horses, bunnies, mochas, and forest trails.

I’ve published three books in an equestrian series. I write at an antique secretary desk that occupies a glass room with a forest view. Fittingly, it once belonged to the same wise grandmother who introduced me to the love of reading via Walter Farley’s horse books. That desk has secret compartments which hold memories, mysteries, and story ideas.

As a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, American Christian Fiction Writers, and Texas Association of Authors, I take studying the craft of writing seriously. Revision is my super-power.

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Thirteen-year-old Selah’s life is about as perfect as it gets. She has horsy friends at school, and on weekends, she rides her black mare on Grandpa’s farm. Training the horse to do upper-level liberty work is what makes her heart beat.

But one word can ruin a perfect life—moving.A move would separate her from her horse, so she plots to get her name on the farm mailbox instead. She’s sure she could persuade Grandpa—except he’s overly distracted by a sheep-loving neighbor.

Determined not to let Grandpa’s new sweetheart take her place in his heart, Selah puts her hope in a painted dream horse from Grandpa’s past. When she snugs up the girth and buckles on her spurs, Selah rides to win.

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“Move?” Instant panic struck Selah as her world exploded like a crystal horse figurine crashing onto the stable’s rock floor. Pins and needles pierced her skin like the shards from the shattered crystal. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she leaned into the privacy they provided while she fought for air and denied reality.

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Hiding by Jenny Morton Potts

May 5, 2018

FTC: I received a free copy of this book from Partners In Crime Tours in exchange for my honest review. I received no other compensation and the opinions expressed in this review are one hundred percent true and my own.

Hiding by Jenny Morton Potts wasn’t my favorite book. I say that because I had a hard time following what was going on and who was talking. I am not sure why that was, but it made reading the book super hard for me. I did enjoy the authors writing but I just couldn’t stay interested in the plot of this book. It also could be because this isn’t a genre that I usually read so I just wasn’t super interested. I really liked Rebecca from the start and I couldn’t stand Keller right from the start. He just acted super strange though out the book and because of that he just got on my nerves. I had no idea how this book was going to end so that was a good thing because I get tired of being able to figure out how the book is going to end. If you are interested in this genre than I would give this book a shot but it wasn’t a good fit for me.

Book Details

Genre: Psychological Thriller
Published by: Cahoots Publishing
Publication Date: February 2018
Number of Pages: 323
ISBN: 1976862817 (ISBN13: 9781976862816)
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Keller Baye and Rebecca Brown live on different sides of the Atlantic. Until she falls in love with him, Rebecca knows nothing of Keller. But he’s known about her for a very long time, and now he wants to destroy her.

This is the story of two families. One living under the threat of execution in North Carolina. The other caught up in a dark mystery in the Scottish Highlands. The families’ paths are destined to cross. But why? And can anything save them when that happens?

About The Author

Jenny is a novelist, screenplay writer and playwright. After a series of ‘proper jobs’, she realised she was living someone else’s life and escaped to Gascony to make gîtes. Knee deep in cement and pregnant, Jenny was happy. Then autism and a distracted spine surgeon wiped out the order. Returned to wonderful England, to write her socks off.

Jenny would like to see the Northern Lights but worries that’s the best bit and should be saved till last. Very happily, and gratefully, settled with family.

She tries not to take herself too seriously.

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Chapter 2

Death Row

June 2021

There was a walk now. They passed doors, like random choices. They all looked the same, all the colour of pale nicotine. But some of those doors were in the business of living and some were not. As you walked past them, you could feel hope slipping away. Which door? Which one? It was like a game the devil might play as you entered hell. Eventually the passengers reached the end of their journey and were shown into another room which was similar in size to the last but with what looked like a window on one side. The window was dark for the moment, with a black blind pulled down and opposite, there was a gallery with seating. The seating was slightly raked, like a theatre. They were here for a performance.

‘That’s 11.30 gone now,’ someone said from the far end.

‘Show must go on.’ Keller mumbled.

There was a crackle and then an audio test from the speaker in the corner. Keller imagined that President Descher had arranged a televised viewing and that all over the State the people could see and hear this: factory workers, grandmothers, schoolchildren, stopping what they’re doing and watching. From the audio speaker, Keller recognised words from the phonetic alphabet, then the date, today, June 23rd 2021, the location, the prisoner’s name and number HCI 72259-931 and the time scheduled for execution.

Keller knew that the duration for the poison to act was ten minutes maximum and that the ratio to be injected was set against the inmate’s weight and height.

Somewhere behind him, Keller could hear mumbling about the victims’ families and an officer explained that they were seated separately, in another viewing room. He imagined that the families’ room was crowded, since eight victims had lost their lives that day.

At 11.45 am, the time was announced once more on the speaker and the blind was pulled up manually, revealing the execution chamber. Keller had forgotten who was seated directly next to him now, but whoever it was flinched.

The prisoner was already strapped onto the gurney. There was a sheet over his body but you could see where the constraint buckles jutted up into the clean white cotton. His left arm was exposed however and the intravenous tube was already in. He was clean shaven. Keller had never seen him without a beard. He could almost pretend he did not know him.

Three Harfield guards came into the chamber now. They did not look at the window, which to them was a mirror. Who would want to see themselves doing what they were about to do, even if it was their duty. The three guards were each handed a syringe. The content of one of the syringes was deadly and the other two contained a harmless fluid. The guards would never know who among them administered the lethal injection.

The condemned man’s chest began to rise and fall. He blinked rapidly and his Adam’s apple bulged in his throat, as he struggled to find an impossible place between dignity and the screaming of his nerves to stay alive.

Keller murmured, ‘There is nothing to do now but die.’

A man in the chamber who had been out of their view, moved into sight. He was dressed in a plain dark suit. He identified himself as Warden James and held up a chart. His hand was steady enough, his white knuckles though suggested a very tight grip on that chart.

Keller stared down at the inmate who seemed to be staring back, though Keller knew that the glass was one way and that all the condemned could see was a reflection of his own final scene. All the same, their eyes met.

Warden James turned to the prisoner. ‘Is there anything you would like to say or read before we administer this lethal injection?’

‘Yes.’

Keller frowned down at the neighboring lap. It was the redhead next to him, the PhD student, twisting that engagement ring. The girl who more than likely had it all, the girl who could not cope without her cell, was barely coping at all. Keller could feel her trembling against the length of his torso and the anger in his veins burned. The young woman held her hand up to her mouth and whispered into it, ‘God, dear God.’

The Warden lowered his eyes to Prisoner HCI 72259-931 on the gurney and blinked several times. He said to the inmate, ‘Go ahead, what do you want to say.’

‘I would like to ask a question.’

‘What is your question?’

‘I would like to ask a question and have it answered.’

Warden James looked around the room at the other officials.

‘Go ahead and ask your question.’

‘Not until you tell me that I will have an answer.’

Keller smiled and nudged the redhead. ‘You see? Make the most of every goddamned moment.’

The young woman was on the edge of her seat and on the edge of tears.

In the chamber, the suits and uniforms huddled and muttered amongst themselves and the Warden came free of the pack once more.

‘We shall try to answer your question. And cannot commit beyond that. I ask you therefore again, is there anything you would like to say?’

The inmate tried to lift his head but the strap across his brow was held tight. He cleared his throat and said in that thick Carolina accent that Keller thought he’d forgotten but which now reignited in his memory and ripped through his heart.

‘I want to know if my son can see me.’

***