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Showing posts from 2013

Label Shopper

The hubs shook his head when I told him I wanted a pair of Uggs for my birthday. He was diligent and went and even checked them out. I wanted the sweater kind, and he located them in the one store that carries them (Dick's Sporting Goods--can you believe it?). He wasn't sure that I really wanted them, because they seemed flimsy and impractical for our snowy winters here. He got me a gift card so I could get what I wanted, even though he didn't understand it. I ran to the store as soon as I could and purchased them. They were unbelievably on sale, and I ended up getting them for more than 40% off the retail price. All proud of the savings, I showed the hubs the boots. He just shook his head and said, "They just seem pricy." Normally, I am not a big label shopper. There are some brands I like, and some that I consider luxuries. Ironically, the hubs prefers certain brands (like Brooks Brothers and J. Crew), but he buys so much less stuff than I do that he can justi

By the Numbers

Age I turn today: 38 Height: 5'3" Weight: Enough Number of children: 2 Years of marriage: 12.25 Years in practice as a PT: 13.5 Number of cats: 2 Cups of coffee/day: 2 Days of the year that I eat chocolate: 325 Number of blog posts: 112 Number of Page Views on Biel Blather: 10,005 Number of copies of Good Intentions sold: 145 Number of brick and mortar bookstores that carry Good Intentions: 3 Number of 'Likes' on my Facebook author page: 126 Average review on Amazon: 4.6 Months until my second novel debuts: about 2 (yikes!) Number of words in my current work: 52,007 Number of times I was up during the night thinking about this post: 3 Amount that I am grateful for my family, friends and the love in my life: Infinity

The Cinderella Myth, Part Two

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A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away ... oh, wait, wrong tale. Yesterday, I blogged about the whole Cinderella thing being a myth, and how we, as women, can never magically transform into the beautiful princess without a lot of hard work. And perhaps a Pinterest mishap or two. This is more about why I have a problem with the idea of princesses, especially in terms of my young daughter. When I was young and idealistic, I had the notion that I would not inundate my daughter with princess stuff. When my son was born, I was happy that I would not have to tell people, "No, we don't do princess stuff." The Disney princess machine was huge at this point, and I was happy with our Thomas the Train, and not having to ban princesses. Then I had a daughter. And, by the age of two, she was naturally gravitating towards anything and everything princess. Why, you might ask, would I have a problem with princesses? There are two main things. Actually three. Three main th

The Cinderella Myth

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From the time I was a little girl, I heard the stories about princesses. While I liked them, I didn't buy into them a whole lot. Somehow, they all seemed too good to be true. But nonetheless, I was fascinated by the fancy dresses, and wanted nothing more than to attend that fancy ball. Somehow, that fancy ball never really came along, and I realized that life doesn't happen the way it does in the stories. Now that I'm (sort of) grown up, I can tell my daughter will all certainty that these princess tales are a load of hooey. Here's how I know. This past weekend, the hubs and I got all gussied up and went to a formal event. And there was sure-as-heck no Fairy Godmother bippidi-boppidi-booing in and making me look my best. Oh, no. There was work that went into it. Lots of work. The dress was easy. After combing e-bay, my friend and I went to a local consignment shop. This shop gets dresses from a bridal shop, so there are a lot of new dresses that were floor models.

It's Beginning to Look a Little Like Christmas

Holy crap! It's December 1st. How did that happen? Every year, at different points in the year, I have a dream that it is the week before Christmas or even Christmas Eve, and I haven't decorated or gotten presents for someone (like my parents) or something of the like. I wake up in a panic, only to realize that it is only May. Except now, it really is December. I know that Thanksgiving is always the fourth Thursday in November, but it seemed late to me this year. Here it is December 1st, and I'm still gorging on turkey and stuffing (and trying not to think that my pants may not fit on Monday morning). I host Thanksgiving dinner, so for the past week or two, I have been tunnel-vision focused on that. I did start some shopping last week, but really only because there were some sales and coupons that would expire before Thanksgiving. I have a "No Christmas until after Thanksgiving policy" for the most part. I was also doggedly determined to finish (or "w

NaNo

Hey all- I'm still here! I bet you thought I'd deserted my blog. I haven't, I've just been a bit tied up lately. I started NaNo on November 1st. No, it is not some new high-tech thing. NaNo is short for "National Novel Writing Month." I don't know how NaNo came about, but the gist is that you write 50,000 words in 30 days. Why they picked November, I have no idea. With the holidays and all, it seems like pretty poor timing to me, but alas, here it is, and November is NaNo. In the genre under which I currently write (women's fiction, chick lit), a typical novel is 80,000 to 100,000 words. So, banging out 50,000 words in 30 days is quite the jump start. The math breaks down to 1,667 words per day. It doesn't seem like that much. When I sit down to write on the weekends, I can usually pump out around 2,000 to 3,000 words in a day. It is the weekdays that kill me. Of course, the NaNo site has all sorts of fancy graphs to measure your

The Story Rope

My daughter is hard at work. Reading, analyzing, diagramming her story. She is trying hard to gather her materials, to be precise, to be accurate. She is working all weekend on this project. It is not homework, just what was her "take home" lesson from school. Monday morning, she cannot wait to show her teacher what she has done. She is proud of her work. She should be. She did a good job. She read the book. She made a story rope with her custom illustrated version of the story, in detail right down to the colors she used. She identified the title and author, the setting, the characters, the problem and the solution. And I hate it. Because she is six, and the story is "The Three Little Kittens." She should be working on reading, and decoding her words. She should be absorbing the language, appreciating the verse and cadence of the words. Letting the phrases roll off her tongue in a melodious way, savoring the rhymes. Looking at the pictures, seeing h

Calgon, Take Me Away

I am the victim of a war. It is a war between my brain and my body.  Right now, my body is winning. First of all, I'm not getting any younger here, although I refuse to accept that.  However, while I am not getting any younger, it means I am getting older.  As such, I have older-person (i.e. adult) responsibilities.   I have two kids who depend on me.  I need to be there for them, to be their mom.  To provide unconditional love and support, guidance and reassurance.  To give them a moral and ethical foundation that will make them decent human beings some day.  Kids these days are busy.  We don't even do that many activities in the grand scheme, but there is so much running.  I am out of the house every single day doing something or other that pertains to the kids.  It is tiring, but I know these times will be gone before I know it.  I am trying to find the joy and satisfaction in running Mom's Taxi Service. I have a husband that needs me to support him in various ways

Bulleted Points

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It is a gorgeous fall weekend, and I cannot get my head together to come up with a cohesive blog post.  So here is a non-cohesive one.  This is pretty much what my brain is like 90% of the time.... I'm even gonna make it a bulleted list, well, just because I'm being lazy about the whole thing. Halloween costumes are underway.  We're going as a family of ninjas.  I'm going as a ninja disguised as a Geisha, so I'm even more stealth than the rest.  Sophia will be a hybrid ninja/geisha.  All is well and good, with the exception of my fabric choice.  I brought some beautiful brocade and costume satin to make the costumes out of.  I knew the satin might be difficult to work with, but I did not anticipate that the fabrics (both kinds) would immediately start to unravel and fall apart once cut.  I was quite resourceful, however, and discovered that running all cut ends through a flame will essentially melt the material, forming a seal.  The kids are fascinated by this

The Two Things Every Woman Needs

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Every woman needs a best friend like the one I have.  Throughout my life, I have had many friends.  A few were very close friends that I have given the term "best" to.  As my life has changed and evolved, my relationships have as well.  Never in a million years would I ever have imagined that I would have the privilege of having a best friend like Michele. Michele and I went to high school together.  We were aquantiences, but our school was pretty small.  We traveled in smaller circles that were part of a larger circle.  I didn't really know her, but didn't have a favorable opinion of her.  She felt similarly about me.  A few years back, a mutual friend "reunited" us.  I wasn't thrilled about seeing her again.  But the years had changed us, and we found ourselves talking frequently, with a lot in common.  We have similar views on parenting and marriage.  We have similar likes.  Our husbands get along well.  Our children are remarkably similar. She wa

Is it only Monday?

You know you're in for it when your alarm doesn't go off first thing Monday morning and you oversleep.  Then, when you get to work, you promptly get a phone call because you were supposed to be at a meeting somewhere else.  Yep, one of those days... I was very scattered this morning, which is not really like me.  But I have good reason to be scattered.  In the midst of a crazy busy weekend, I decided to sit down and try to finish reading what I have on my second book.  Since retrieving my hard drive, I've been re-reading my writing, trying to figure out where to go with the story.  I knew I was about to wrap it up, but wasn't sure exactly how I was going to do that.  I had gone into writing this story with a preconceived notion about where it was going.  But once I got there, I changed my mind.  Anyway, after I got the kiddos in bed last night, I decided to read what I had written.  I got to the end, and it was literally in the middle of the scene.  An idea jumped int

Promotion, Promotion, Promotion

Hey, anyone wanna guess what this blog post is about? This week, Yvonne at Fiction Books is featuring Good Intentions for  Mailbox Monday .  What's pretty exciting about this is Yvonne is in the U.K., so this could be an international break for me.  Bloggers like Yvonne (and Naida at ...the bookworm... , Marlene at  Book Mama Blog , Charlotte at  A Novel Review  and the gals at  Chick Lit Central ) are such a huge force in the literary world, especially for indie authors like myself.  These ladies have taken the time to read my work or promote it in someway to get the word out to more and more people.  I'm fairly certain that, if (when), I hit it big, it will be because of bloggers like this awesome group. [That being said, there are a few more bloggers who have Good Intentions in their TBR piles.  Anxiously awaiting those reviews!] Also, at the suggestion of my PR manager (a.k.a., my BFF who is working for free at this job), I've created a Facebook page .  This is a

Scripted Play

My son is on the autism spectrum.  He's not the typical "autistic" kid, although that is the diagnosis that seems to fit closest (although not best).  One of the interesting things about him has always been his scripted play.  From a very early age (about two years old), Jake could recite things, and that is how he played.  We would find him with his toys, narrating an episode of Blue's Clues, but changing the names to "Jake" and "Mom," or something like that.  Not even really understanding what it was at the time, we all thought it was really neat.  He was never one for spontaneous play, where he set up elaborate scenes.  Even to this day, his play is not very verbal. When Jake started school, we used to laugh at his play.  He would come home and play school.  We would overhear him, even if he was in his room by himself, talking.  Reciting, verbatim, scenes from the school day.  We could tell exactly what went on in the classroom, or the library

The Eleventh of September

For my generation, September 11, 2001 is that pivotal day when everyone remembers exactly where they were when they heard the news of the devastating terror attacks.  My story is no different.  However, if you follow the blog and read my post last week, then you could have figured out that I was on my honeymoon when the events of that day went down.  And for the rest of my life, when people talk about "that morning," to me it will always be "that afternoon," as Pat and I were six hours ahead in France.  Being such a world-changing event, I obviously included the day in my honeymoon scrapbook, although we took no pictures that day.  I wrote a long narrative and have included the Time Magazine that covered the story, as well as a copy of 'Le Monde,' which is the main Parisian newspaper, from 9/12/01 in my scrapbook. Here is my narrative from my scrapbook, describing the day from my perspective: *** We spent our last night in Nice in the Comfort Inn.  Unabl

Bed-side Manner

Although I'm sort of having a small career identity crisis at the moment, very rarely have I second-guessed my decision to become a physical therapist.  Occasionally, I think that I should have gone to medical school, but that thought is often fleeting.  With the imminent danger of Obama-care looming, I'm often comfortable in my decision. In fact, I often marvel that I was fortunate enough to figure out, at the age of 18, what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I went to a top-tier program and did fairly well there (once I figured out that attending class was actually necessary for passing said class).  While the economy was bad when I graduated, it took me less than a year to find employment, and I have been steadily employed since.  Often, I even have two or three part-time jobs in my field. Sometimes, working in the school is thankless.  Just like any job, there are people who make your days more challenging.  And just like any rewarding job, there are the intangibles that

Book Blahs

I hope this post doesn't come off sounding too whiney or complain-y.  I'm just in a bit of a weird spot right now, and want to process through writing.  Take this as an expression of my thoughts and feelings, but please give me good advice if you have it. I'm stuck.  I don't know what to do or how to proceed. I have my book.  I'm happy that I published it.  Now, I need to figure out how to sell it.  I spent two years trying to get agents to look at it, but to no avail, which is why I went the indie route in the first place.  As I told someone yesterday, publishing is easy.  Selling is hard.  This is why there is big bucks in marketing.  But now what do I do?  I'm sure all of my family and friends are tired of hearing me talk about my book.  I've sent it out for reviews.  Two have come back very favorable, but I only sold a handful of books from it (although any is better than none!).  I'm waiting on a few more reviews.  One, I think may never happen.

A dozen...

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A dozen eggs does not go very far.  A dozen doughnuts travels even less far.  But today, I'm reflecting on another dozen that seemed to fly away in the blink of an eye. A dozen years of marriage. Twelve years ago today, I left Kate Kopach behind and became Kathryn Biel.  I was so very sure of my decision.  Well, except for those brief moments the day before when Pat almost missed the rehearsal.  Then I questioned everything.  By the wedding day, I was nervous, anxious even, but sure of my decision. I can't picture my life any differently.  Sure, sometimes I try.  Sometimes, like when I hear music from my college days, I wax nostalgically upon days gone by and wish for another chance.  But when I am honest with myself, I know that this  is all I've ever wanted. Sure, there are days (or nights, depending on what we're going through), that I play the "If only" game.  There are times when I want to hit my husband in the head with a frying pan.  There are d
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This is totally an opinion piece, which means it's MY opinion.  Feel free to disagree, but keep it respectable. The media this week is ablaze with Miley Cyrus critiques, criticism, and other bashing due to her over-the-top performance at the VMA's.  I haven't watched the VMA's in about 15 years, but I had to see what all the fuss was about.  So, I went onto You Tube and watched the video.  And, like 99% of the world, I was horrified and disgusted.  Here it is, if you haven't had a chance to see it yet:  Yep, pretty disgusting. No doubt about it.  I read some articles about it here and there, including one that talked about MTV bleeping out "molly" in the song, due to it's frank reference to drug use.  I watched the video for Miley's song, "We Can't Stop" and then watched the VMA clip again. (The video for "We Can't Stop is highly reminiscent of Fiona Apple's "Criminal.") Ok, so I was still disgusted, bu

Many Thanks

I'd say the ride started on May 31, 2013, when I hit the 'Publish' button, but in reality, it began a long time before that.  But now, I can really say that I'm an official author. I got my first royalty payments. They're not much.  In fact, I'm still a long way from breaking even on the whole process.  But, at 9:00 last night, when I checked my e-mail and had received the notices from Amazon that the money had been deposited in my account, it was a milestone. I didn't know that I wanted to be a writer.  I still don't really consider myself one.  It was an accidental discovery, fueled by an overactive imagination and insomnia.  I love to read, and I think it was a natural progression.  I don't think I'll ever be the next J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer, but I'm quite alright with that (Although, it would be nice.  There is some real estate I'd like to invest in, and that's not going to happen without me hitting the lottery or hi

I'm Still Here...

...But reporting from a different location. Last week, my computer died.  I think I'm still in shock, because I haven't even cried.  But that's mostly, because, after my hubby took it apart, and diagnosed it with a "blown mother board," he promised me that he can retrieve all my stuff off the hard drive.  (Why is it the mother board that fails?  I take this personally.  Why can't it be a failed father board?  Just sayin'...) I'm trusting in that. 'Cause if it's not true, I may  just totally loose it. It all started last week.  On Tuesday, the kids were due to go to a make-up session of camp.  When they go to this camp, I usually pack up my computer and go to a coffee shop and write while the kids are at camp.  But I wasn't feeling it.  I had a post-birthday party hangover from Sophia's weekend/Monday festivities.  Oh, and I'm totally stuck with my story.  So, Tuesday dawned dark and rainy, and the kids didn't want to go

Another Guest Appearance...

Ask any indie author, and they will tell you that Bloggers play a huge role in the success of a self-published book.  Book review blogs are a lifeform in and of themselves.  As an avid reader, I have come to appreciate them highly.  I'm always looking for a good book to read.  I'm always looking for a good deal. These sites help me find both. Naida from ...the bookworm... is one of these awesome bloggers.  So awesome, in fact, that she let me crash on her site and write a guest blog post today.  Not only is there some information about Good Intentions, but you can also read a sample of the first chapter (in case you're still indecisive about whether the book is for you), and find out some background info about me and the book as well. Head over to  ... the bookworm...  to check out my guest post! Thanks Naida!

Ahhh, the relaxing days of summer.

So, I often allude to the fact that my house is not clean.  When people ask me how I found time to write a book, I tell them I wrote instead of cleaning.  I'm not really kidding.  Now, here's the thing.  I clean all the time.  I mean everyday, I do something.  However, in a family of four (plus two cats), the something that I do is not nearly enough.  I am constantly vacuuming the kitchen, dining room and downstairs hallway/bathroom (where the litter box is).  I am always wiping the counters (well, the small portions of the counters that are not covered in stuff).  I am doing dishes and wiping up spills.  I'll let you in on a little secret, but promise not to tell anyone.  Ready... I hate cleaning.   If I never had to dust or vacuum again, I'd be happy. But this all came back to haunt me, as these things often do.  My daughter's birthday is coming up.  And she wants a party.  I love having the kids' birthday parties at a venue, where all I have to do is show u

Dare Me

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In this day and age of YouTube and instant fame... "There is no doubt that one of us will die." Okay, do I have your attention now? One year, three kids, ten dares and YouTube.  What could possibly go wrong? Find out in the latest novel by Eric Devine: Available 10/8/2013.  If you cannot wait, you can pre-order here: Amazon Barnes and Noble Booksamillion IndieBound I know you may be confused.  Usually I'm discussing my epic housekeeping/parenting failures or pressuring you to buy my book.  Today, Biel Blather is taking part in a Blog Blast, sponsored by Book Nerd Tours.  I could say that I volunteered to participate because I went to high school with Eric Devine.   But that would not be the full reason.  The full reason is that Eric is a damn talented writer, and you, the reader, will be missing out if you don't read this book.   To read an  excerpt , you can visit Eric Devine's blog.  All of his fancy conta