Tag: memoir

#NewRelease: Window Over the Sink by Liz Flaherty

Hi, there, readers! I am so excited today because my good friend, Liz Flaherty, is here to share an excerpt with you from her new book! Liz’s books are some of my favorite because of her amazing character building, but just before the holidays she took on a new endeavor: a book of essays. You see, one of Liz’s first publishing forays was as a columnist – and her essays are so good! Here’s a peek: 

GOALS AND SOMETIMES

by Liz Flaherty
I don’t do resolutions, although I start each new year with some goals that sometimes I make (finish at least one book) and sometimes I don’t (lose fill-in-the-blank pounds). I hope each year will be an improvement over the last one, which sometimes works out and sometimes not.

I used “sometimes” a little too often in that first paragraph, didn’t I? But to tell the truth, it’s an important word. If you say “always” or “never,” you’re committed to something whether you want to be or not.


Like “I would never say that.” Sure, you would, if you were mad enough.
Or “I always wash the sheets every Monday.” Unless I forget.


Or “I would never wear yoga pants to the grocery store.” Yeah, you would. And hair curlers back in the day. And, if your nose is running and you’re about to cough up a lung and you’d rather just stay in bed, maybe you’d wear your pajamas, too. (Lots of people do, even though they really shouldn’t and I wish they really wouldn’t.)

Or, my kids never did that. Okay. You go ahead thinking that.

Or, things were always better in my day. No. They weren’t. They were different and some things were better. Some things were awful.
Unless you say you’ve never done something that might be fun or exciting or mind-enhancing. Then you should add it to your list.

Or unless you say you’re always glad to see someone or to help someone or to have a great conversation with them. Then you should hang onto those things and do them more often.

You can say you’ve never done or said something as long as you tack “yet” onto the end of the sentence.

You can say you always do or say something as long as you add “almost” in front of the always.

Often, though, you’re better off with “sometimes,” instead of committing to something you might not be able to accomplish. Or with “I’ll try” instead of “I promise,” because broken promises are much harder on both sides of any equation than trying and failing.

I need to interject here that I am kind of big on clichés and quotes—you may have noticed—and one of my favorites is the only failure is in not trying. Robert Kennedy said, “Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.” Even if greatness isn’t your goal, daring to fail is an important part of any success.

There, do I sound pompous enough for you?

So, although I don’t do resolutions, I have goals—finish another book, lose…a few pounds, laugh a lot, see good movies, cry some, read, see my family and friends every chance I get, stay healthy, volunteer.
I’ll achieve all of them. Sometimes. And I’ll keep trying.

Readers, click these links to get your copy of Window Over the Sink: Amazon  Books2Read

#AmReading: Carol Burnett In Such Good Company

Carol Burnett’s In Such Good Company

At the beginning of the year I had a plan to read all 50 books on the 50 Best Books from Every State list. I’m going to fail that writing challenge, not because I haven’t been reading but because I’ve been reading off of my list of books to read…don’t worry, I’m still going to read all 50, but I think this is going to be a multi-year reading challenge for me. I first got off track with my reading challenge about the second week in January when, instead of James Michener’s Hawaii, I picked up Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I’m not sure why I picked it up; I’ve read that book probably five times in my life. But I was walking through the library (I’d gone there to write and had met my wordcount so of course I started wandering the stacks) and it was right there on a shelf calling to me. So I picked it up. I’ve worked my way through about 1/3 of the 50 books list. 

Another book that called my name? Carol Burnett’s In Such Good Company. Y’all know my love of the memoir by now, but this book isn’t so much memoir/self-help as it is memoir/memory, and it was wonderful. 

I’ve been a Carol fan since I was little, watching the reruns on Sunday afternoons on a fuzzy UHF channel with my mom. I didn’t get most of the jokes but I can still hear mom’s giggle turning into a full-blown snort-laugh in my head. I laughed at the jokes I didn’t get because her laugh was just so contagious that I couldn’t not laugh. As I got older I started getting those jokes and laughed for other reasons. 

What I liked best about the book were the stories behind the scenes – how Vicki Lawrence became a cast member, how Carol nearly fired one of the cast after a particularly bad show. Those were things I didn’t know. I didn’t know that she fought hard to have her own variety show in a time when male studio heads didn’t think women should. I didn’t know that she ran that show, every aspect of it, in a time when women just didn’t do that. And my biggest takeaway from the book that is more memory than self-help is this: You have to fight for the things that you want in life. Carol fought for her show. She fought for the actors and performers on her show. She fought for certain skits and writers. She knew what her vision was for the show and she fought hard to make that vision a reality. 

My favorite quote from the book sums up what I think is her true legacy – aside from the laughs on the show! – that you have to be present and embrace your life, and fight for the things you believe in: Fifty years have passed since we “pushed the button” to do the show. Sure, I’d like to be younger, but then I could never do today what we did back then. Sadly, variety shows like ours have gone the way of the dodo bird. A variety show today can never duplicate what we did. Why? Money. The cost of clearing the songs and music alone would sink the Titanic. Sixty to seventy costumes a week? No way. A twenty-eight-piece orchestra? Twelve dancers? A rep company of five? Six to eight sketches a show? Major guest stars? Block the entire show and rehearse with the orchestra in one day? The following day tape the whole shebang in two hours? Dream on. We all get older, if we’re lucky. So, if I had to choose, I’m happy I was there at that time…to have a laugh or sing a song.

If you have the chance, definitely pick up the book – I think you’ll love it! What are you reading now?