Diabetic? Who, Me?

Last week the nurse from my doctor’s office called me and said that my recent blood tests indicated that I was at extreme risk of developing diabetes.

My immediate reaction was “Diabetes? Me?” followed immediately by “Baloney.” Actually, I used a different expletive though it also starts with the letter b. My daughter used the same word when I told her the news.

Why?

It’s like this.

I exercise regularly. This places me among the 10% of Americans who do so. Specifically, I walk our dog 40 to 60 minutes a day, barring snow, heavy rain, or a polar vortex. I go to Jazzercise 3 to 4 times a week. I’m also on my feet grocery shopping 2 to 3 times a week plus preparing meals and cleaning up after those meals every day. I don’t watch lots of t. v., averaging maybe an hour an evening. I’m a self-published writer, but I try to limit my computer time to three to four hours a day.

I eat right. Those five servings of fresh fruit and veggies a day everybody is supposed to eat? I get those, consistently, and I’ve done so since I joined Weight Watchers in 2006. We’re not vegetarians, but I limit the amount of lean red meat I serve in favor of chicken, seafood, and pasta. We do eat a ton of cheese, but I take medication for cholesterol. We have a can of ginger ale in the fridge and a few more cans in the garage in case one of us gets the flu. But I haven’t had a Coke since 2010 and even then it was a Diet Coke. I haven’t had a beer or a glass of wine in at least a year. I read the labels on food at the grocery store, vigorously watch my salt intake, and avoid prepared food that has sugar of any kind. Before I retired in 2004, we ate out two to three times a week. Now I eat out three times a month.

I maintain a close to normal weight. At the time of that nurse’s phone call, I was about 7 pounds over my Weight Watchers’ goal weight. In the five days since then I’ve lost a couple.

Finally, neither my mom nor my dad developed diabetes in their senior years though they lived to be 94 and 87 respectively. (I am now 72.)

My conclusion after hearing the news that I could develop diabetes? If this can happen to me, no senior is safe.

Even though in denial, I immediately took some measures against this ailment I didn’t think I could possibly get.

I extended my dog walks somewhat and set the timer on my phone to make me get up from the computer every hour to do some household tasks.

It was painful, but I went to the cupboard and got out the wonderful Green and Black’s organic chocolate bars I recently bought at Whole Foods. “Here,” I said to my daughter. “Take them somewhere so other people can eat them.”

The day after the call, I got out my old Weight Watchers stuff, figured my 5% and 10% weight loss goals, and started tracking.

The denial phase lasted until I went online and read up on the symptoms of incipient diabetes.

I’m not drinking or urinating excessively, but a few weeks ago I developed an incredible sweet tooth.

When I took the eye exam during my doctor’s visit, my vision seemed blurred. This I ascribed to a faulty fit of my current pair of contact lenses.

Recently I’ve had considerable pain in my hands. About a month ago, my daughter and I watched A Hijacking, an incredibly suspenseful film. As is my habit while watching t. v., I was knitting a scarf. I must have really clenched up on those number 9 needles because the next morning my fingers were so knotted up I couldn’t unfold them without considerable pain. My hands are now pretty much back to normal, but for the last few weeks I’ve had chronic pain in my left big toe and some in my right that can’t be explained away.

As for the lack of genetic predisposition for diabetes, my mom and dad didn’t develop it, but maybe people elsewhere on my family tree did.

So for now I’m assuming that the test results were correct, tracking my calories, avoiding sweets, and gathering information. These measures don’t mean I’ve arrived at acceptance. Actually, I’m pretty angry about this whole deal. I’ll tell you why in the next installment of my blog.

Should You Self-Publish?

Earlier this month, when the wonderful Mysteryscape Bookstore held a Local Author Fair, a baker’s dozen of self-published and small-press-published writers came together to promote and sell their books. During the afternoon, as I sat there behind a display of my books, a tall, dark-haired young man asked me if he should self-publish his novel when he finished it. “Or should I try to get an agent?”

I couldn’t answer either question, certainly not with an unequivocal “yes” or “no.” Too much involved. When I taught Creative Writing, for instance, I spent an entire unit on marketing.

Now I’ve had time to think about his first question and to reflect on what I’ve learned this year as a publisher of my own fiction. And I have to say, “Don’t be in such a hurry, young man. Give yourself time to learn your craft and pay your dues. As the sayings go, it takes ten years to become a writer; you need to spend 10,000 hours on any art or craft to master it; you must write a million words to learn how to write. So, the novel you self-publish now probably isn’t the best book you could write. You might not want it out there embarrassing you as you continue your career.” This sounds like good advice for a young writer to me.

But what if you’re not such a young writer? What if you’ve been writing for at least ten years, spent at least 10,000 hours mastering the art and craft of writing, written at least a million words? That is, what if you’re more like me? I wrote my first novel nearly forty years ago, and I’ve been writing fiction steadily since 1986 when I drafted my second and third novels. I’ve completed ten novels and forty to fifty short stories. (I don’t have time to count my poems, nonfiction pieces, and the journal entries that fill well over a hundred notebooks.) Now retired, I try to write 20 to 30 hours a week.

As for the young man’s second question, from time to time over the last twenty-five years or so, I’ve attempted to get an agent, and I haven’t managed to interest any. Actually, I take that back. I did interest a couple, but neither of those nice ladies sold the project she submitted to publishers for me. And now the whole process has become demoralizing. The rejection depresses me, makes me doubt the worth of my work, and interferes with my writing. So I’m not doing it anymore.

I’m not alone in that decision. At the Local Author Fair where the young man asked his two questions, I sat next to Edna Bell-Pearson, author of the self-published Fragile Hopes, Transient Dreams and Other Stories, selected as one of 150 best Kansas books. A senior as I am, Edna observed that she simply didn’t have the time “to fool with those people.”

And so, though the technical aspects of publishing my own work can make me exceedingly anxious and the marketing aspects of being my own publisher like tweeting, branching out, linking in and befriending folk also take time away from my writing, I will continue to self-publish. Why? For one thing, I hope that the same time-on-task that made me a writer will also make me more comfortable with publishing and promoting.

And I already have lots of well-written fiction to bring to you, dear reader. This includes January Jinx, the first book in a series of historical mysteries set in Kansas City around 1900. Look for it next month. Meanwhile you can read Walls, a Cinderella, P. I. Novel as an eBook (www.amazon.com/dp/B00FQLQ2WI) or in print (ISBN: 978-0-9899504-1-1) and twelve stories that feature Cinderella as a p. i., her loved ones, her friends, and an enemy or two in Cinderella, P. I. and Other Fairy Tale Mystery Stories (www.amazon.com/dp/B00GMMUSTI and 978-0-9899504-4-2).

Hello Again, World!

Two months ago some pervert hacked my website and I was so offended that I took my website down. But more than one person has pointed out that a writer who publishes her own work needs a presence on the Internet, some central address beyond her Facebook and Twitter pages. So here I am again.

In this first installment of my blog reborn, I want to talk about what sorts of posts I made in the past before I lay out plans for future posts.

(Please don’t worry about my losing my previous installments. When I was in graduate school at Ohio State, I had a class with Richard D. Altick, the great Victorian scholar and author of the lively book called Scholar Adventurers. Altick warned us in no uncertain terms to make copies of our dissertations, even going so far as to advise us to keep a copy in the freezer in case the house burned down. So now I print hard copy of all my work. I also back up all my work on my computer and to other devices that now include an auxiliary hard drive. If the house burns down, I can grab it and run. This discussion reminds me to copy my finished books to the flash drive I keep in my purse in case the house burns down while I’m out and about.)

Back to my past blog: For nearly two years, as Juliet Kincaid, Fiction Addict, I wrote about the lessons that I learned from the books I read–mostly mysteries–that help me write my own, fairy tale mysteries featuring Cinderella, P. I., twenty years, three kids, and a few extra pounds after the ball. These essays often included very detailed analyses of fiction I admired along with how I could apply those insights to my own work.

They were lots of work, you bet your bippy, sweetheart. For instance, I spent nine hours (three writing sessions for me) on a piece about James Church’s superb A Corpse in the Koryo. These nine hours were in addition to reading it.

Downside: Spending that much time every other week on somebody else’s work severely cut into my own writing and slowed my progress. And I simply can’t take the time to do that sort of blog now. (However, this past year, I’ve occasionally republished some of these blogs as “golden oldies” with updates on the writers’ careers and how I’m doing on my own “Work-in-Progress.” I might do some more of that.

Later in 2012 I also began to write about myself as a Late Bloomer, someone launching a career after age 60. Also I reflected from time to time on aging generally including where I’ve been, where I am right now, and where I’m going.

These feel more comfortable to me for future subjects though I reserve the right to write about just anything I please. Hey, there are among the perks of being an old gal.

Enough for now. You can expect more installments on the second and fourth Thursdays of every month. To receive notifications, please subscribe to my blogs through RSS.

Best, Juliet

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Currently available as Kindle eBooks are five of my fairy tale mystery stories including the first, “Cinderella, P. I.,” and Walls, a Cinderella, P. I. Novel. All feature Cinderella twenty years, three kids and a few extra pounds after the ball.

You’ll find “Cinderella, P. I.” at www.amazon.com/dp/B00BAZPXEM and Walls, a Cinderella, P. I. Novel at www.amazon.com/dp/B00FQLQ2WI.

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/JulietKincaid. Friend me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/juliet.kincaid.