Next book updates

As The Gospel According to Gabby grows page by page and comes closer to being completely finished, you will hear it here first. Over 130 + pages written and on target to be completed by this summer.

Twilight?

I so didn't want to jump on that Twilight bandwagon! I haven't read any of the books but caught the movie on HBO the other day. I liked it. Shhh...don't tell anyone.

Charlie Sheen's Domestic Abuse Case

Calling all watchers of Sheen's show, Two and a Half Men! Now we know who is really the half a man, if a real man at all. Real men do not threaten women with violence.

It's time to boycott Sheen's televison show. Put in calls to CBS and get this show off of the air. It is supposed to be a family sit-com, well there is nothing funny about domestic violence. Charlie Sheen does not deserve this job, his lifestyle, or his beautiful children. Those poor kids. The children suffer the most when a mother does not leave a domestic abuser.

Wake up Brooke. Save your family.

Shoe shop for a great cause!

Good news shoe lovers! Throughout October, which is NATIONAL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AWARENESS MONTH, Marshall's stores is donating $1 for every pair of shoes you buy to the National Domestic Violence hotline.

With domestic violence reports up at an alarming rate, every $1 counts! So run to Marshall's and stock up on your Maryjane flats and cute and toasty Ugg boots.

New shoes & helping a great cause? Everybody wins! Especially the victims of domestic violence!

The Only One

My son is an only child. I plan on not having any more children. Many people tell me he needs a sibling. My usual response is that I can barely manage the one I have, so why would I want to have more? Being a full-time teacher and trying to keep my active four-year-old boy busy this summer with plenty of activities, has left me no time at all for myself.

Here's the thing: I am suffering from Mother's Guilt of having an Only Child. Taking care of one child is difficult enough and I can't imagine how the millions of other moms out there with two or more children find enough time in the day to do everything that they need or want to be done.

Should I do laundry or play with my son? Is it okay to relax and read a magazine for twenty minutes and let him play by himself? It's hard to make a phone call without my son clamoring for my attention. My computer time is only after he goes to bed. My days have been centered around playdates, t-ball practices and games, swim lessons, running errands, cleaning house, etc.

Why do I feel guilty if my son is not busy doing something every second of the day? How do I sneak in more Mommy time before I go completely bonkers?

How do you moms of an Only Child do it?

No Jail Time For Chris Brown!

I am so irate that singer Chris Brown did NOT receive any jail time for beating his girlfriend, singer/model Rihanna. Why is it that celebrities can get away with SO MUCH in this country? I can honestly say that I am not surprised, but just saddened by this recent news that Brown skates by unpunished for his crimes by serving probation, community service, and attending domestic violence classes.
His community service needs to be at a domestic violence safehouse. The victims can give him the punishment he actually deserves. Someone to do the same thing that he did to Rihanna.

Don't make any more records, Chris. Don't buy them people. Don't go to his concerts. Please, Oprah, don't have him on your show again.

Good-bye, Chris. Find another career.

To read the entire article about Brown's plea agreement:
http://music.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=415548&GT1=28102

School's Out!

Remember that old Alice Cooper song, "School's Out"? To quote the former Motor City classic glam rocker, "School's out for summer! School's out forEVER!" Love it, love it, love it! That song was playing at the exact perfect time and at the exact perfect moment when I left the parking lot of my high school last week. "No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks!"

This teacher will have to learn some new dirty looks over the summer. My students rarely even bring their own pencils and books! Don't they deserve my dirty looks? You betcha.

Ah, summer---the best season of all for us living in the Rust Belt. So much to do, so little time. My son is my number one priority this summer. Have fun and play with Xander is at the top of the list. Yes, I know it's been 2 1/2 years between books! I need to finish writing THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO GABBY, my long overdue follow up to CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL.

Reality often gets in the way of our dreams but not if you let it.
Find your balance. Find your passion.
Don't lose sight of what matters the most.

Published Authors Who Use Cafemom

I have been mentioned, along with CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL in the Daily Buzz of Entertainment on cafemom.com. Just a lil' recent news since there has been no recent news.

http://www.cafemom.com/dailybuzz/entertainment/5146/Published_Authors_Who_Use_CafeMom

Mom vs. Writer vs. Housekeeper

So now that my one and only (and last) precious child is almost four, he demands much more Mommy time, which means much less ME time for this Mommy. As time speeds by at an eerily fast pace, any stolen minute or second that he is napping or sleeping must be used for the greater good. But how much can one really get done in an hour, hour and a half tops of toddler napping? It involves some serious choices. Hmmm...should I mop the kitchen floor that has been neglected since Christmas? Do you know what spiced eggnog does to natural hardwood in six months? It's not a pretty, or unsticky sight.
Or should I work on that novel that I started almost a year ago and never finished? Has it really been over two years since the last book was published? By the time I'm done writing this one, my son will probably be potty training his own kids.
Or...should I just take it easy, watch some Oprah, curl up with a good book (the same one I started reading at Christmas time while drinking the previously stated egg nog), or should I vent about it and thus waste what little time I have left because too much of it was thinking how to spend it, and write a new blog post?
Hmmm...

Rihanna & Chris Brown Update

With the alleged beating of singer, Rihanna, by her "boyfriend" Chris Brown, I think it's time for her to step up as a spokesperson for Domestic Violence Awareness. I sure hope the marriage rumors are false and that Rihanna is not struggling with "battered woman syndrome" by hooking back up with that monster.
She is a role model for young women and needs to be seen as a survivor, not a victim, and a voice for her many young fans who are staying in abusive relationships. Any form of battery by any man, or anyone is not acceptable. By Rihanna staying with a woman beater is bringing the fight against domestic violence to a screeching halt. If a beautiful, successful, young musician continues to love and accept her significant other, what kind of message is that sending to women all over the world who are trying to claw their way out of abusive relationships?

You deserve better Rihanna. This batterer deserves to be behind bars.

If anyone needs help in a abusive relationship, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 800-799-7233.

Top 10 List of Life's Little Irritations

This is a good writing exercise...come up with your own top ten and then choose one of your "irritations" to write an entire piece.



10. People busting out with their checkbooks to pay for their groceries. People still write checks?

9. Husband's dirty clothes on the floor. Umm..we do have a closet, dresser, and laundry bin.

8. My mother's 10 minute voicemail messages. Can't you just say, "Call me back," Mom?

7. The same telemarketers calling over and over and over and over....no, I still do not need to know how to lower my credit card bills.

6. Chain emails. I'm sorry but if I get bad luck for not forwarding the cartoon with "Somebunny loves you" to 10 of my friends, it's your fault for sending it to me.

5. People who eat other people's food out of the "community" refrigerator. How did my half eaten turkey sandwich taste?

4. No more casual Fridays! Why does one skank with her thong peeking out of the back of her pants ruin it for everyone?

3. Cell phone conversations in the movie theater. Rent a DVD and talk at home. By the way, you owe me $8.75 for my movie ticket.

2. People who say "who?" instead of "what" or "pardon" when not hearing and/or understanding something.

1. Two parking space hoggers. Does your Mini Cooper really need two spaces?

Advice for Wanna-be Published Authors

recent article I wrote for www.shared-self-publishing.com


After three frustrating years, one promising literary agent let down, and dozens of rejection letters, I decided to go the "indie" route and self-publish my Young Adult autobiographical novel, CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL.First, I researched and found a reputable POD publisher in WRITER's DIGEST magazine and sent in my complete manuscript. Being a high school English teacher by day, writer by night, I edited the book myself. I had the option with my publisher to choose a pre-formatted cover design, pay extra for a custom designed cover, or design one myself. A self-confessed control freak and what seems like decades carrying around a vision in my mind of my book cover, I, of course, had to design my own.My publisher sent me 10 author copies of my baby book and that is when the real work started. If you think writing is challenging enough, wait until you begin the long journey of marketing your book on your own. My publisher's marketing department helped with a press release form, book reviewer and book store contacts, and other various strategies to help me sell copies.Having an author website set up and networking on various social websites helped me to promote and sell many books. What teen doesn't have a MySpace page? Being a young adult author who writes mainly books for teens, I am now quite proud of the fact that I have over "700 friends" on MYSPACE. A big NY literary agent even found me on www.myspace.com/readmichellekane to propose a new book idea he was interested in having me write!My dream has always been to publish a book. Although I did not get a six figure advance and Jennifer Aniston isn't starring (yet!) in the film version of CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHHOLGIRL, I am very glad I self-published this book. I even have a charity tie-in and have been featured in local newspapers and magazines that announce the fact that I am personally donating 25% of royalties from sales of CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL to domestic violence shelters. The satisfaction comes from not only receiving my royalty checks in the mail, but by giving back to my community and knowing that I am doing SOMETHING to help the fight to end domestic abuse in the USA.

Visit Michelle Kane and Confessions of a Catholic Schoolgirl.

Back it Up!

I have learned my lesson the hard way from a nasty new computer virus killing off all of my Word documents and jpegs.
Back it up and save everything and anything important someplace else. We all know that right? But do we remember to do it every single time we should be doing it?

I have not been saving my writings religiously to my flash drive like I should be and lost an entire chapter of my new novel. I freaked when clicking on my document saved to my hard drive and saw not my treasured, time consuming typed words, but ugly, sickening blue letters reading: FILE ERROR 22001.
Gone are my yet-to-be-published essays, articles, and book chapters. They have been replaced with white space and a file error message.

This is a freelancer's worst nightmare. This could also be a personal identity thief's wet dream.

No one has yet to crack the code on this new vicious virus. If you find a way, please pass it my way.

In the meantime I'll be searching for my lost words.

Bye-bye Black Friday

With the recent killing of a 34-year-old New York man who was trampled to death while opening the doors to Black Friday shoppers, I ask you: do we really need a Black Friday? I understand it is the "official kick off" to holiday shopping, but with a senseless death caused by eager, manical shoppers has the Black Friday hype gone too far?

I just don't get how something like this could happen. This should not have happened. This was not an accident. This tragedy did not happen at a rock concert. This man was a worker at Walmart, he was not stage diving into a moshpit. He was simply doing his job, but the shoppers were not doing theirs. Fueled by saving a buck or snatching up a hot ticket item, these brainless, selfish people let a man be trampled to death so they could brag to their friends about "how they made out" with the bargains on the biggest shopping day of the year.

I get up for work everyday at 5.am. The only place I want to be is warm and snuggled safe in my bed the day after Thanksgiving. The turkey and apple pie is still catching some zzzs in my belly, so you will never find me out there at 5 a.m. in the dark, frigid chill of a retail store parking lot. It is not worth it to save a few bucks or a few hundred bucks.

Someone lost a son because of it.

Black Friday has proved its name true. A day of death. Stay home on Black Friday next year. Stores do not need to open early. It is senseless, just like the Walmart worker's death.

To read the entire story, visit:


http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20081129/walmart_trampling_081129/20081129?hub=World

Obama is the Man!

Now that our country has made history with its first African-American President, our first female President can't be too far behind! It doesn't matter if she's white, black, Asian, Hispanic, or anything in between--there is hope that maybe someday, someday in every American's future, a female can make it to the top as President of the United States.

Would a man vote for a female as President? No one thought whites would vote for a black President, but plenty did.

So little girls everywhere--rejoice! Put those Barbies down and grab your Hillary Clinton bobblehead! Dream big, work hard, and you too can achieve anything.

God bless America!

Domestic Violence in the National Spotlight: Jennifer Hudson

The Jennifer Hudson family tragedy should not have happened. But now with Domestic Abuse in the national spotlight, our country needs to take drastic measures to prevent any more unnecessary violence caused by domestic abuse from happening again. William Balfour is a CHILD KILLER. This monster with a violent past should not have even been free on the streets.

How can women prevent domestic violence from happening to their family? Like sex offenders, or child predators, domestic abusers often strike again and again. Their rage is a sick hunger eager to disease and hurt those that trust them or even love them. The first step to prevent a sex offender or domestic abuser from entering into your life is to KNOW THEIR PAST.

Like our National Sex Offender data base, I stumbled upon, www.theweakervessel.org, which is the FIRST National data base for convicted domestic abusers. I know that I would want to be aware of any man I was going to date, or even living in my neighborhood had been convicted of a violent crime. These criminals need to be REQUIRED through a court order to register on this site. It looks relatively new and the site owner is asking for help. To volunteer or donate, please visit www.theweakervessel.org.

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO GABBY

enjoy a sneak peek at the first chapter of my next young adult novel

There is no way I am ever going to wear that.
That thing. That hideously plaited monstrosity disguised as a girl’s skirt.
That, that…
uniform.

This is the only thing that goes through my mind as I sit across the desk from Principal Sister Mary Rosa in her office on my first day of school at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Catholic High School.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Sister asks, pushing the questionable fashion item into my folded arms. “I think this size medium will do you just fine.”
“No, it won’t do me just fine. It’s so, so…plaid. And gray. I don’t do dress codes, especially unflattering private school uniforms. I won’t wear it. You can’t make me wear it,” I say, tossing the uniform skirt on her desk and placing the heel of my boot on top of it. I slump back in my chair, with my feet resting quite comfortably on her desk.
“Do not disrespect me, my property, or the rules of this school young lady,” Sister says, swatting at my black Doc Martens until they drop to the ground.
Her stern face softens a bit as she places the uniform on my lap. “Miss Grabowski, I know things have been quite traumatic for you lately. You lost your parents almost a year ago, moved to a new city and I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that must be on a young girl.” Sister Mary Rosa shakes her head and clasps her hands in prayer, as if she feels my pain. “And now your uncle tells me you were not adjusting well to that public school you were in last semester.”
Sister Mary Rosa nearly vomits out the words public school, as if the taste of those words on her tongue would actually make her blow chunks.
“You mean, that public school where all my friends go?”
“You will make new friends, dear. Your uncle cares about you and wants to see you get a proper education. Here at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow we offer a well-rounded curriculum of history, literature, mathematics, and religion classes. You will also engage in many extracurricular clubs and activities with other like-minded young adults of the same faith.”
“Faith?”
“Yes, Miss Grabowski. Your religion, Catholicism. Your Uncle Mark informed me that your parents had you baptized as well as confirmed. You are up-to-date on your Holy Sacraments. You are one of God’s children.”

“God? You mean the same God who killed my parents by some lunatic drunk driver?” My cold gaze is matched by her stern, narrow eyes.
“We all know God works in mysterious ways, no matter how unpleasant or painful it can be, everything is part of His plan.” Sister pauses and reaches over to clasp my hands in her own. My smooth, young, tan hands are now tangled in between wrinkled, white, cold hands. “That drunk driver foolishly claimed your parent’s lives, not God. “Let go of your anger and let God in. To forgive is divine.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I gingerly bite a loose hangnail on the side of my thumb that’s driving me nuts.
“No, not whatever. Praying once a week in our mandatory Wednesday service should help to bring about a positive attitude, and a positive attitude along with prayer will enable you to endure these changes and struggles you face.”
This old woman not only resembles one of those shrunken head dolls, but now she talks as if she’s reading scriptures directly out of the Bible. “What mandatory Wednesday service?” I demand some answers to all Sister’s crazy talk.
“The mandatory school Mass for the entire student body we have here at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow. Every Wednesday, instead of attending Religious Studies classes, students meet in the school’s field house for Mass. Students love it. It gives us all such an uplift in spirituality that we all need by mid-week,” she explains.
I cross then uncross my legs. “Let me get this straight, Sister. All students meet in the sweaty gym on Hump Day to pray?”

Sister Mary Rosa frowns. “See, dear, it’s that kind of bad attitude and negative thinking that needs to be changed around. I know there’s a positive, sweet girl inside of
that tough shell, and she will come out with the more time and effort you put into your new Catholic education. It’s such a blessing for you to be here and thank the good Lord that you attended public high school for only your freshman year. By the grace of God, you have been blessed with a brand new fresh start.”
Her sweetness is making me angry. “Look, Sister Mary Rosa, no disrespect, but you know nothing about me. I’m not Catholic schoolgirl material. My parents never even took me to church. We were Chriseasters. Isn’t that what you call them? The sinners who don’t keep holy the Sabbath day, but only go to church on holidays?” I don’t wait for her to answer, but continue. “The only reason I’m at this stupid school is because I flunked Algebra and Uncle Mark, being the number crunching crazy accountant that he is, flipped out about it and said that my parents would have never allowed this to happen if they were still alive, and how he’s not living up to his only brother’s legacy, and blah, blah, blah. Because of one bad grade in one dumb class and now I get thrown into this…this…” I stumble for the right words, “hell hole.”
Sister Mary Rosa gasps, gets all bug-eyed and acts as if I just slapped her across the face. “This is a loving and caring, God-fearing environment, Miss Grabowski. You are very lucky your aunt and uncle love you so unconditionally,” Sister replies with a smirk. “As far as I see it, they brought you just in the nick of time, before you travel further down that dark path you are on, and further away from God.”
I roll my eyes. Whatever.

“Well now, I think that is settled,” Sister states gleefully, no doubt because she got the last word. “Take this uniform skirt and make sure you where it tomorrow with a crisp, clean, white buttoned collared blouse. You may wear only a gray, navy, or red
cardigan over it, if you so choose. Your socks need to be knee-high length, and in white or ivory only. Your shoes must be brown or black penny loafers or lace-up oxfords. Any questions, Miss Grabowski?”
I want to ask her what a penny loafer was, but decide against it, seeing as she already sees me as a big smart-ass already. I extend my leg into the air instead, holding up my right foot. “Are these okay?” I ask, displaying my worn-out, faded, ultra-comfy favorite footwear on the planet.
“No, Miss Grabowski, they are not. You may only wear those type of combat style boots in snowy, wintery weather on your way to school, and then upon reaching your locker, must remove the boots, replacing them with penny loafers or oxfords. Mary Janes would be acceptable as well. Absolutely no high heels, open toe sandals, or thongs.”
“Thongs?” It’s bad enough Sister is policing my style of dress, now she’s controlling what kind of panties I wear under this uniform? For God sakes, what kind of prison did Uncle Mark put me in?
Sister laughs and reveals large, frightening teeth. She lightly taps her forehead. “Silly me, I forgot you young people refer to them as flip-flops nowadays. Those are only appropriate to wear if you are coming and going to the gymnasium swimming pool.” She picks up a paper print-out off of her desk and quickly scans it. “No thongs, I mean flip-flops for you, Miss Grabowski. This is your first semester schedule and you are not enrolled in any physical education courses,” she says, handing me my course list.
My flippant response was interrupted because there is a knock at Sister’s office door.
“Excuse me, Sister Mary Rosa, I don’t mean to interrupt,” a voice begins through the cracked door, “but the first period bell is going to ring in a few minutes.”
“Oh, oh, Mr. Truman,” Sister is grinning ear to ear now, “come on in.”
The door opens and a boy about my age walks in. Or maybe it’s an angel. He’s a perfect vision in navy blue pants, white collared shirt, and black oxfords. His hair is dark and wavy, like a younger, hotter John Mayer. Of course, his body is a wonderland.
“Is this the new student I get the pleasure of showing around our wonderful school today?” the angel asks, his dark eyes twinkling like midnight stars.
“Mr. Bennett Michael Matthew Truman, meet Miss Gabrielle Grabowski,” I barely hear Sister say.
“Hello, so nice to meet you Gabrielle,” Bennett says, extending his hand towards mine.
I catch my breath and grasp his hand. “Huh, huh, hi,” I stammer like a big dope.
“Mr. Truman is in your first period class and he will be showing you where your locker is and will basically be your Tour Guide of Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow all day today, Miss Grabowski. I’m sure you will show him the same respect and kindness you showed me,” Sister says, raising an eyebrow.

I could actually be wrong about this place. Maybe it’s just like heaven.

National Domestic Violence Month

Just a quick post to remind everyone that October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Please consider donating or volunteering at one of your local domestic violence shelters. Women and their children need your help. You could save a life.

The Pastor's Ass

The pastor entered his donkey in a race and It won. The pastor was so pleased with the donkey That he entered it in theRace Again, and it won again. The local paper read: PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT. The Bishop was so upset with this kind of Publicity that he ordered The Pastor not to enter the donkey in another race. The next day, the local paper headline Read:
BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS.
This was too much for the bishop, so he Ordered the pastor to get Rid Of the donkey.The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a Nearby convent.The local paper, hearing of the news, posted The following headlineThe Next day:
NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.
The bishop fainted.He informed the nun that she would have to Get rid of the donkey, so She Sold it to a farmer for $10.
The next day the paper read:
NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.
This was too much for the bishop, so he Ordered the nun to buy back The Donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run Wild. The next day the headlines read:

NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE.
The bishop was buried the next day.

The moral of the story is . . . Being Concerned about public opinion Can Bring you much grief and misery . . Even shorten your Life. So be yourself and enjoy life. Stop worrying about everyone else's ass and You'll be a lot happier And Live longer!

thanks to my cafemom friend for this one...funny words of wisdom!

Oprah's Book Club

Wow! Can you believe I have not blogged in over an entire month? If you read my last entry you know why. Going back to work teaching full-time and mommying a toddler full time barely gives me any writing time! It's either sleep or write and you know how much this gal loves catching her some serious zzzzz's. But I promise to post a preview chapter of The Gospel According to Gabby super soon.

What I do want to gripe about today, displaying not the least amount of jealousy of course (did you notice the color of this text?) is how damn lucky that David Wroblewski is. If you are not familiar with this Polish fellow, his debut novel, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, is Oprah's latest Book Club pick. What a lucky s.o.b. that guy is. You know everything Oprah touches or even farts on turns to gold, right?

If Confessions of a Catholic Schoolgirl was an Oprah Book Club pick, can you imagine how much money I would be able to give to domestic violence non-profits? So many beds, toiletries, toys, food, and counseling could then be available to all the battered moms out there that have no place to go. A teen novel may not be Oprah's cup of tea, or one of her "favorite things" but what she does love to do is help others. And Oprah if you're out there, remember this writer/mom/teacher is personally donating 25% of profits from my book to help end domestic violence in the U.S. Won't you please help a sister out?