As you know, my husband, The Norwegian, died suddenly last summer. It is a terribly sad and twisted story which perhaps someday we will explore. I find myself having to make a life and a living. Although I have oodles of talent, I have rarely used it for the greater good, meaning income. I have instead frittered away my time raising children, adoring a husband and decorating like a banshee. Fast forward to new life–new house, kids off to college, living alone and supporting myself. Wtf?
I have always been a writer. Even as a small child, it seemed the only talent I had as I whiled away hours hiding in my bedroom closet writing nasty missives about my step mother. I was a reporter and sports writer for a while and that was great. Then I wrote for magazines so really it’s the only thing I know how to do except throw a killer party where everyone needs a cab home. I also shake a to-die-for dirty martini, hence the cab. I have a day job. When I approached an agent about a book she said, get an audience, write a blog and when you hit the numbers, I’ll take you on. Basically, hand us an audience that will buy your book and we’ll take the chance on you. So here we are. You need to read this religiously and pass it on to everyone you know who can read so I can pull myself up by my bootstraps and become that amazing widow who yanked herself from the mire and made a life for herself. I’d love to be someone’s inspiration but more than that I like money. Bottom line, read my shit so I can make a living.
The book is called “Flipping Off the Devil.” Clever, non? Comes from pure fact. Every single day I get up and begin battle with Satan himself, first for sanity, then for survival. So every night I can basically say go screw yourself, devil. You will not drag me any deeper than the Hell to which I already cling. In my spare time, I write my book and on Saturdays fill my blog pages so I can gain that audience, basically do the job of the publisher since the book world doesn’t make as grand a percentage as they used to the work falls to the writers.
While we journey through widowhood together there are things you should know about me. I may be a sarcastic bitch but I miss my husband every day of my life. My children are the only reason I am alive. Sometimes I must remind myself to breathe; the grief is so deep and muddlesome. I have dream sex with my dead husband. I choose to find the humor in my grief. I have no choice. It’s that or throw myself from a building. I live in Scottsdale, Arizona where it is against the law to block the mountain view making that an impossibility. I have lots of tips and topics and we will explore each one through my bitchy lens of life. Snark on dolls, snark on. First up–vibrators. She did not just say that did she? Yup, we’re going there girlfriends! Read on.