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One debut writer's view of the publishing world--both as an author and a literary publicist.Statistics for Megan Kelley Hall
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The link between cardiac surgery and depression is a real thing and it may have played a role in Robin Williams' suicide.
I know because I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and I have ever since my first cardiac event.
My cardiologist told me that it was very common to suffer from these things following any cardiac surgeries. I've had several. My very first panic attack was when I had a carotid stent put in. I was made to lie on a table in the cath lab while my doctor inserted a balloon-like stent into my carotid artery. I had to remain awake on the table throughout the procedure so that they would know in an instant if I suffered from a stroke during the stenting. Consequently, I had my first major panic attack right there on that cold, metal table in that bright, antiseptically clean operating room. I wasn't allowed to move or cry or scream or pull away. I wasn't able to be medicated to calm down. I could feel the fluttering movement of the scope inside my body as it wormed its way up my neck to my carotid artery.
"Hold still," my typically jovial cardiologist told me through gritted teeth. This was not a time to ask silly questions.
I watched the computer screen above me as he performed this complicated task and then whispered and pleaded with the nurse to give me something to stop the intense fear and inevitable shaking that I knew was coming on strong. I knew that I was powerless against it. It was that feeling of standing alone in the ocean on unsteady legs and watching the rocks get sucked back by the tide, knowing that a giant wave was forming and there was no escape from it crashing down upon you. I knew the crash of a panic attack was imminent even though I'd never experienced one before.
Once you have one, you never forget how horrible it feels.
That was eight years ago. I was 32. I still have panic attacks today and will probably have them forever. It just goes with the territory. Depression is a part of the equation as well, but I've never let it swallow me whole the way others have. I've always stayed a few steps ahead of it, but that's not to say I'm immune.
My open heart surgery has left me with a long scar down my chest. It's faded throughout the years some, but it's still there. I forget about it at times, but then I'll notice someone eyeing it and my hand instinctively flutters up to my neck, creating a visual barrier. I'm not embarrassed by the scar. At first I hid it with boat neck shirts and scarves. Now I wear it like a badge of courage. It tells people what I've been through. A reminder that I'm a survivor. I survived childhood cancer. I survived having a premature child. I survived open heart surgery. And, yet, the sternotomy scar is the only thing that is a visible reminder.
Robin Williams wore his scars openly as well. You could see it in his eyes. The pain in his eyes was there even when he was making hundreds of people laugh. The joy that they felt was elusive for him. He was an outsider probably wondering why it was so easy for others to bask in the joy that he gave to them effortlessly. Why was it so hard for him to feel the same way?
My cardiologist told me that my surgery was typically an older male surgery. While heart disease is a growing problem with women (today it is the leading killer of women, more deadly than all forms of cancer), open heart surgery is typically an older male issue. He said that men would get very depressed after the surgery (Dr. Tara Narula, associate director of the cardiac care unit at Lenox Hill Hospital and a spokeswoman for the American Heart Association and American Stroke Association has said that cardiac depression affects 20-40% of all heart surgery patients) and yet no one really knows why. Consequently, my appointments after my surgeries always focused on how I was feeling: physically and emotionally.
For the first six months after my surgery, I was in a lot of pain. It's no wonder since the surgery is a very savage one where they literally saw your breastbone open and pry your ribcage apart and then a lengthy and intricate surgery takes place while your body temperature is lowered into hypothermia and you are put on a heart and lung machine--for all intents and purposes you are the closest to being dead while still technically being alive.
When they are finished and they have brought you back after nine to twelve hours of being practically lifeless, they sew you back up, wrap your ribcage in titanium and poke and prod you to make sure you are coming back to life in one piece. The first few days of intensive care are what typically cause the PTSD. My doctor compared it to being a prisoner of war. You are in pain. You are not allowed to sleep normally. You don't know if it is day or night. You are being poked and prodded. You are uncomfortable and miserable and aren't aware if you are awake or asleep, up or down, inside or out. It's basically hell on earth.
And then you begin the long road to recovery. No driving. No walking for long periods of time. Always tired, always in pain, always breathless and weak. No lifting anything over five pounds. You are reduced to being a child--always having to rely on others to care for you. For men, it eats away at their egos. For women (especially with children), it's hard to be taken care of when they are typically the caretakers of the families.
But long after the immediate effects of the surgery are gone--the scars have healed, the pain is gone-- there is an unsettling feeling that can strike at any moment. I don't know if it's the realization that you have knocked on death's door and hung out at the threshold for a little while only to be turned away. Maybe it's the knowledge that life can be taken from you in an instant. Perhaps it's survivor's guilt. For me, my aunt passed away from a very painful cancer a year after my surgery. While she was going through her treatment, she'd often look to me with that helpless, expectant and terrified gaze and tell me that I was the only one who could understand what she was going through. She'd plead with me through her eyes and I could only offer her my strength and my sympathies. But in the end, that wasn't enough.
I don't know if Robin Williams felt those sudden moments of terror following his surgeries. I know that I used to wake up in the middle of the night terrified of something cracking my chest wide open, feeling helpless and unable to move, overwhelmed by pain and by fear. There's a loneliness that only those who've stayed in hospitals long term can ever fully understand. I've spend most of my life in hospitals and though I joke that it is like my second home, there is a tension that lives within those sterile walls. Perhaps it's the ghosts of the many lives lost there. Maybe it's the collective fear and sadness that remains like residue on the walls. But once those hollow emotions get inside of you--those ice-cold pinpricks of isolation and hopelessness-- it's so hard to ever completely rid yourself of them.
So, yes, I believe that Robin Williams had a lot of issues he was dealing with which ultimately led to his taking his own life and perhaps his cardiac issues did contribute to his demise. Substance abuse is something that I thankfully have never experienced. He had been very open about his abuse throughout his life and those who suffer from PTSD and depression are more susceptible to falling back into the clutches of the abuse. His life was cut short by so many demons that plagued him. Maybe a few of them crept in while his heart was wide open and defenseless. Perhaps they sat on his shoulders and whispered to him in the dark hours of the night. Or maybe they hung from his back like so many terrible addictions.
We tend to equate the saying "Carpe Diem" or "Seize The Day" with Robin Williams' character in the movie Dead Poets Society. But we should also be reminded of a similar Latin saying, "Memento Mori," which means, "Remember, you are mortal." Robin Williams was just a man with the same problems as every other man. None of us are immune to feelings of depression or inadequacy or grief. Yet, it seems so unfair that in his ability to bring immense joy and happiness to others, he ultimately failed to find it for himself.
For someone who spent his life giving to others through laughter, ultimately it is through tears that we have learned the most important lesson he could have ever given. No one is immune to the damaging effects of depression. It is a silent killer. It creeps through every age, race and earnings bracket. It affects men and women, old and young, rich and poor. It can feel like it's contagious. It can remain dormant for years and rear its ugly head and strike someone down when you least expect it. But it can be treated and monitored if caught in time. Awareness is the key.
Whatever the case, it is important to reach out to those in your life who are suffering from depression. It doesn't have to be someone who has gone through addiction or a major surgery, but those are the ones who should be watched a little more carefully. If you are ever feeling alone or depressed or just ready to give up, there are so many programs available to you and people who can help you through your darkest hours. If you are experiencing suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.
You are not alone.
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Blog: Megan Kelley Hall (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Okay, so I'm kind of freaking out a little bit. I received an email from a follower of this blog. I tried to email her back, but her account wasn't accepting emails. The girl said that she was being bullied and that she has tried to commit suicide several times and that she knows she will again. She also asked for help on writing about her experiences with being bullied and wanted some advice.
The fact that I can't reach her is scaring me, so I'm posting the email (of course, I'm not using her name) I sent back to her. Hopefully she reads this and doesn't go through with any more suicide attempts. And hopefully this gives hope to others who might be struggling with the same thing.
In any case, I hope this letter finds the right person at the right time. (And please don't mind the long-windedness and emotional repetition -- I was very anxious to get this out to someone who was hurting, so I didn't take the time to self-edit.)
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I know that I typically only post about writing related topics, but for my next novel I've been doing a lot of research on mental disorders and juvenile delinquents. Now I now that Ms. Bynes is not a teen and has not been officially diagnosed with a mental disorder (though many speculate that drugs are behind her sudden apparent craziness). And yet, I have noticed another interesting aspect about this young star. She seems to be physically morphing into other young stars.
See if you can tell the difference.
1. Amanda Bynes or Lindsay Lohan?
2. Christina Aguilera or Amanda Bynes?
Amanda or Blac Chyna?
Until she figures out who she is and comes through this identity crisis (and whatever else might be affecting her mental state), Amanda Bynes may just end up being another unfortunate casualty of the the Hollywood Child Star syndrome. I really hope she pulls through this.
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These were the words used by one of the editors of the San Francisco Examiner newspaper when rejecting one of Rudyard Kipling’s short stories.
Think of how many authors today would be discouraged and would just completely give up writing if they read those words in a review or a rejection letter. I came across a list of famous authors who were rejected (often repeatedly) by agents, editors and publishers.
Read this list the next time you receive a rejection letter or particularly painful review and it should give you the strength to carry on.
http://www.examiner.com/article/30-famous-authors-whose-works-were-rejected-repeatedly-and-sometimes-rudely-by-publishers
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Here is the link! I will be scanning and posting here shortly! Though I don't love the headline "Publishers Revel in Youthful Cruelty" (what?!?! Really?! Um...no), it's an honor to be included and I feel that the bulk of the story shows how the publishing world is rallying together to tackle this growing issue.
In any case, CLICK HERE to read the article and ENJOY!
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this time I mean it when I say I'm going to update my blog more often. No more excuses.
So I'm starting off with a question. Does anyone know how to link or add a Tumblr widget to Blogger? There are Pinterest, Twitter, Facebook, GooglePlus and many other widgets available to add to Blogger blogs, but I have yet to find one for Tumblr. Are they in competition? Is Tumblr the one last thing on Earth not owned by Google or Amazon? Hmmmm....
In any case, even though this doesn't look like a blog, it's just a really jazzed up version of a regular Blogger blog. I taught myself some HTML and made this thing look like a real website. On my homepage, some of the pictures are all smushed together and I need to figure out how to fix that. There are some random adds and widgets that have run amuck all over the place. But, overall, I'm pretty happy with how this has turned out.
Can you tell I'm procrastinating on my next novel?
And what is going on with my latest novel, you may ask? (Or maybe not, but I'll tell you anyway.)
I'm about 200 pages in on my first draft and I'm at that crucial 3/4 mark that I always hate. Why do I hate it so much? Because I'm one of those writers who doesn't really know how it's going to end until the reader does (just about). I like to think that if I can surprise myself by the ending, then the reader is really going to be for a surprise.
But, more than that, as I started researching the topic for this latest book, I got really intrigued by larger, complicated and infuriating issues surrounding it. I'm keeping this topic hush-hush for now, but as soon as I've finished, you can bet that I'm going to be VERY loud and forthright with my opinions on this particular subject. I know that is hard to imagine, given how quiet I've been on the whole bullying situation.
And, yet, this issue has me even more riled up, even angrier and ready to shout even louder about the injustices.
But, I digress...
So, as I'm nearing completion of this book, I will be seated here at my computer more often and before I go posting on Facebook or Tumblr or Twitter or whatever other social media outlet designed for procrastination, I'll make every effort to stop here first and jot down a note or two about what it's like being right in the middle of the writing process.
Thanks for sticking with me. And feel free to follow me via any of the widgets lister above. I'm also on Tumblr. Which Blogger won't let me post or link to. Not sure why. If someone can explain it to me, please do. Especially since one of my writer friends informed me that teens now think that Facebook and Twitter are for old people. Tumblr is the new hot place to be. And if you don't believe that, just ask MySpace how it feels when teens leave you in the dust. Not too much fun. So check me out here at http://www.tumblr.com/blog/megankelleyhall.
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Blog: Megan Kelley Hall (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Just wanted to share an anti-bullying video that I pulled together over the weekend. I'll show you two versions. The first one goes a little fast and many people have told me that in bullying presentations, the quotes are too hard to read. But I still like it, so I'll show it here.
The second one is trimmed a bit (in terms of pictures of celebrities) and slowed down so that kids can read the quotes during assemblies (which is why I created this in the first place).
Let me know what you think. If you like it, pass it on.
Thanks!
xxoo
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...to update on a more regular basis. And I've already fallen short. Sorry about that. But until I come up with some brilliant and witty post that will be life changing for everyone, here are a few things that I came across on Facebook (where I apparently live -- come and visit me there once in awhile, won't you?) that I though I would share:
Enjoy! And Happy Valentine's Day to you all. Just remember, any rejection you may receive isn't in vain, it's fodder for funny posts to share with others who feel your pain. ❤
Blog: Megan Kelley Hall (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Blog: Megan Kelley Hall (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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So, first off, I haven't been so great at keeping my blog up to date. If there was a way of linking Facebook posts with my Blogger account, then I'd be updating more than anyone would think possible. (So if anyone knows how to do that, email me at megan -at- megankelleyhall.com - thanks!)
In any case, I'm going to try to update here more often. It seems easier just to post on Facebook and Twitter, since I know that people will read what I have to say. That sense of immediate gratification, you know? You put something up on Facebook and then BAM two seconds later you get a few likes, a few comments. You know that people are reading your work. This is strange for someone who writes books. Especially since there is such a long period of time between putting your words on paper (or onto the computer screen) and having your books purchased in stores (or through Kindle) and having people read and then review them. The process is long and tedious and angst-ridden. Definitely not for the faint of heart.
So instead of psyching myself out and writing long-winded blog posts, I'm going to try to make them short and sweet.
I'm ending today's post with an image that has been going around Facebook today and I thought it was very appropriate and dead-on in terms of why people become writers in the first place.
Hopefully I will be able to keep up on my New Year's Resolution and keep this site up to date. In the meantime, if anyone knows how to link up Facebook and Blogger, let me know!
Cheers!
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There are a lot of these going around online right now, but I wanted to put together my own video. This is a reminder to myself (and to others) why we created DEAR BULLY. This is not affiliated with the book nor is it being used to promote anything-- it's just a way to reflect on the increasingly damaging effects on bullying and why it has to stop NOW.
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Click here for the full article on Scribd!
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Love Story
By Jennifer Echols
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FAIRY BAD DAY
by Amanda Ashby
It’s going to be a fairy bad day.
First, my rightful designation of dragon slayer is STOLEN right out from under me by Curtis Green. Sure, he’s really cute, but that doesn’t give him an excuse.
On top of that, I am assigned to slay fairies. I know what you’re thinking—how hard could it be, right? Wrong! These menacing beasts with their tiny hipster clothes and mocking sarcasm love taunting me. And they won’t STOP!
But the thing that tops my list of stuff to ruin my day? That would be the GIANT KILLER FAIRY that I have to hunt down and slay because I am the only one who can see it. There is someone who can help me. Unfortunately…it’s Curtis.
"Teens with a taste for the paranormal school story and a tolerance for raucous humor will be involved with and amused by this romantic fantasy. The exciting plot, humor throughout—often provided by the little fairies—and relatively innocent romance between characters will grab readers and keep them involved. " Kirkus Reviews
"In a fun mashup of the modern and the magical, Ashby (Zombie Queen of Newbury High) creates nicely developed characters and supports them with strong plotting and zippy writing. Laced with humor, danger, and romance, this book will have readers smiling all the way to the last page." Publisher's Weekly
“Great fairy fun from page one! If Buffy and Harry Potter got together and threw a magical slayer party, it would be the world Amanda Ashby created in Fairy Bad Day. With plenty of laugh-out-loud humor, emotional depth, and cute boy romance, reading this book will guarantee your day is fairy awesome.” Tera Lynn Childs, award-winning author of Oh. My. Gods. and Forgive My Fins
"Fairy Bad Day is fairy awesome supernatural slaying fun." Stacey Jay author of You are So Undead to Me and Undead Much
"I really liked that no matter how mad Emma wanted to be at Curtis, she just couldn't stay mad—not with those beautiful brown eyes and that lopsided grin. I loved the cover design, it really drew me in. This was a very good book and I would highly recommend it."� School Library Journal Vanessa, age 12
________
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As I mentioned last week, I'm about two authors behind on my blog tour schedule, so I just may have to double up on author in order to catch up -- especially since it's about one week until my daughter is out of school for summer vacation. There goes the rest of the little time I have! Argh!
Anyway, I'm so super excited to tour Jessica Brody this week. She is one of the contributors to DEAR BULLY and so I'm also going to post her bully story over on the DEAR BULLY website. Take a visit over there if you can (www.dearbully.com).
Before I get to her book, Jessica is going to tell a little about her experience with bullying:
I’m so thrilled to be one of the authors contributing to the forthcoming anthology: Dear Bully. I wrote a song for the book that talks about how I was bullied in middle school. I was constantly teased, harassed, pranked, you name it. And I spent the entire time on the outside, looking in, wishing I could be part of the “popular crowd.” But now, looking back on it, I’m glad I wasn’t. I talk about this a lot now when I do school visits. My experience in middle school shaped who I am today. I honestly don’t think I would be writing young adult novels had I not had these experiences. They stayed with me. Long enough that I’m able to use them in my writing. I think (hope!) these real life experiences I have to pull from make my characters more real and believable.
Jessica has an amazing book out (it came out on June 7th) and here's a little bit about MY LIFE UNDECIDED:
PLEASE READ THIS! MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!
Okay, maybe that was a bit melodramatic, but I’m sorry, I’m feeling a bit melodramatic at the moment.
Here’s the deal. My name is Brooklyn Pierce, I’m fifteen years old, and I am decisionally challenged. Seriously, I can’t remember the last good decision I made. I can remember plenty of crappy ones though. Including that party I threw when my parents were out of town that accidentally burned down a model home. Yeah, not my finest moment, for sure.
But see, that’s why I started a blog. To enlist readers to make my decisions for me. That’s right. I’m gave up. Threw in the towel. I let someone else be the one to decide which book I read for English. Or whether or not I accepted an invitation to join the debate team from that cute-in-a-dorky-sort-of-way guy who gave me the Heimlich Maneuver in the cafeteria. (Note to self: Chew the melon before swallowing it.) I even let them decide who I dated!
Well, it turns out there are some things in life you simply can’t choose or have chosen for you—like who you fall in love with. And now everything’s more screwed up than ever.
But don’t take my word for it, read the book and decide for yourself. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll scream in frustration. Or maybe that’s just me. After all, it’s my life.
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Abby accepted that she can't measure up to her beautiful, magnetic sister Tess a long time ago, and she knows exactly what she it: Second best. Invisible.
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That is the best performance by a bubble popper I have ever seen. Brava!