Friday, July 10, 2015


scattered_afterthoughtsHave you ever had a head-thwack moment…or two…or three?

According to the Briggs-Myers test, I am 80% Introvert. (True) That means I do not think well on my feet. Definitely not quick-on-the draw. By that I mean—well, let me explain.

Last night I was guest on a blogtalk radio show, totally extemporaneous. No idea what to expect, and I was a little nervous. No, make that a LOT. This was new territory for me.

Anyway, it turned out to be an interview. I should have expected that. Anticipated that’s what it would be. The host (one of my publishers) asked me about my writing, we talked about my books and the like. Then he asked about a blog post I’d written for their blog. I shared part of it on my own blog: Where do Writers Get Their Ideas? with a link to the complete blog post. If you read it you may be able to understand what happened next.

The whole blog post centered on my people-watching experiences while I lived in Las Vegas where I lived for 33 years. In the interview, I failed to explain how I ended up in Vegas.

Head-thwack #1: I didn’t mention that it was due to a divorce and a longing for warmer, dryer climes.

Head-thwack #2: I failed to mention that at the time of the divorce my three kids were young adults and stayed in Wisconsin.

In my blog article, I mentioned a funny incident one day that involved a red Jaguar with vanity plates that read WAS*HIS that made me laugh out loud, and the fun I had pondering the story behind it.

Head-thwack #3: But did I mention that I used that red Jag in my first indie book? Of course not.

Okay, so we talked a bit more and then he asked me if I watched football. I said yes, that my husband was a fanatical Dallas Cowboys fan,

#4: but I failed to explain that my husband was from Texas. I said that I’d turned ‘traitor’ now that I’m back in Wisconsin after 33 years in Vegas, and am now a Green Bay Packers Cheese-head.

#5: I didn’t say that my husband had passed away and that was why I was back in Wisconsin after those 33 years away and that I was finally living near my kids, grand’s and great-grand’s.

And #6: I closed with a colossal, stupid comment that 33 years is a long time to be away from family. Thinking about all those things I HAD NOT mentioned, when the call ended, the poor man’s head had to have been whirling.

The moral of my sad tale? BE PREPARED…for anything! Or, if you’re an 80% introvert, stay away from telephone interviews!


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