Freelance Writer and Social Worker

No Health Insurance - Walking a Tightrope without a Safety Net

(Note: I'm not a doctor and nothing in this post should be considered medical advice!)

On February 1, 2012, I became one of the 46 million Americans in this country without health insurance.

When I left my social work job to work fulltime as a freelance writer last August, I planned to keep coverage from my former employer through COBRA.

After a few months of that, I realized that monthly premiums cost almost as much as my rent. Also, the plan had a $2000 deductible, so it wasn't doing me much good anyway.

But actually taking the plunge was terrifying. I have a history of bipolar disorder, diabetes (resolved after weight loss surgery), and high cholesterol. My family medical history includes heart disease and breast cancer. In other words, unless I can slide into a high risk pool, I'm pretty much uninsurable.

But it was either give up the insurance or start living on a cat food diet, and my cats are not big on the concept of sharing.

If you, too, are considering ditching your health plan, the following information may be helpful.

1. Make sure you're in good health before you go.

Before I canceled my plan, I saw all of my doctors and advised them that I would be switching from insurance to private pay. My primary care physician gave me a physical, did blood work, and sent me for a mammogram--all clear.

Hospice Tails Is Going on a Blog Tour

Over the next four weeks, my newest book, Hospice Tails, which describes my experiences as a hospice social worker with clients and their pets, will be featured on a dozen popular blogs.

If you have a moment, stop by to visit the blogs hosting Hospice Tails. You can read reviews, interviews with me, and guest posts that I have written. I will also be responding to readers' questions and comments. Better yet, many of the blogs are giving away free copies of Hospice Tails to a few lucky winners.

So, be sure to follow along as Hospice Tails tours the Internet.

Hospice Tails Blog Tour Schedule:

November 21 - WOW! Women on Writing Blog, The Muffin 

November 22 - Writers Inspired

November 23 - Sugar Peach

November 28 - My Reading Room

November 29 - Lisa Is a Bookworm

November 30 - Kritter's Ramblings

December 6 - Mom-E-Centric (listen to my very first podcast)

December 7 & 8 - Crazy for Books

December 13 - Selling Books

December 14 - Me and Reading

December 15 - The Caregiver's Voice

December 23 - Reviews by Molly

Out of My Comfort Zone and Loving It

Have you ever heard of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)? It lasts from 12:01 AM on November 1 to 11:59 PM on November 30. Within that thirty day bracket, your goal is to crank out at least 50,000 words of a novel. It doesn't have to be a great novel. It doesn't even have to be good. Every NaNoWriMo writer I've ever talked to admitted that parts of their manuscripts, often large parts, sucked eggs. The idea is to connect with other writers, enjoy the sheer madness of creation under a tight deadline, and, perhaps, walk away with a the kernel of a novel that will actually sell someday.

I've known about NaNoWriMo for years. I've even made a couple of half-hearted, secretive attempts to reach the 50,000 word goal. Needless to say, I fell way short. This year, though, I'm doing it right. I went to the official NaNoWriMo website and officially signed up, the literary equivalent of throwing my hat into the ring.

I'd Write if I Had the Time

The woman behind the counter smiled at me as I handed over a copy of Hospice Tails for donation to the library. Then, something in her look changed as if she were thinking about a dreamy, magical place far away.

I could sense what was coming next. Don't go there, I begged her telepathically, but "there" is exactly where she went.

"I'm so envious of people who have the time to write," she said with a sigh. "I'd love to be a writer."

I offered her a nod and a slightly pained smile and made my escape. But ever since that encounter, I've thought about the response I would have liked to have given.

Becoming a Fulltime Professional Writer

On Monday, August 1, 2011, I did something that's hard for everyone: I stepped outside my comfort zone. Specifically I turned in my two-week notice at the hospice social work job I have loved for years.

As of August 15, I will officially start my career as a fulltime writer. I'm nervous and excited and scared and confident, all at the same time.

Most of all, I'm thrilled to be achieving a lifelong dream. I don't know how well it will work or how long it will last. I'm realistic enough to know that I could be launching the career version of the Titanic.

But I believe I will succeed. I've spent the last ten years honing my craft, developing my research skills, learning when to say yes and how to say no without giving offense, working on setting my rates, selecting an experienced mentor, picking up the principles of running a small business, and building my client list. I've gotten to the point where, if I want a writing career as opposed to a writing hobby, I need to write fulltime. So, that's just what I'm going to do.

I'll be updating my blog regularly to let you know how things are going on my new path. And for the other writers who are kind enough to stop by here, I'll keep visiting your blogs, too, for continued inspiration and words of wisdom.

I've linked to a You Tube video below, "Defying Gravity." It is one of my favorite songs from the musical Wicked. I'm you take a moment to listen to the lyrics, you'll understand why I've been watching it night and day since I made this decision. Wish me luck, everyone. I'm defying gravity!

Defying Gravity

Harry Potter: The End of an Era

It was the summer of 1999. Our family reunion in the beautiful mountains of Estes Park, Colorado, was coming to an end...and I had run out of reading material for the flight home.

Oh, sure, I could pick something up at the airport, but I knew my selection would probably be limited to heterosexual romances and high-tech thrillers. Neither were exactly my cup of tea.

Then my teenage nephew put a book into my hand and said, "Here, Aunt Debra, you can borrow this for the flight home."

"Thanks," I said casually, not suspecting my life was about to change forever. "I'll mail it back to you when I'm finished with it."

The title of the book was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I'd heard of the Harry Potter books, of course, and had even been mildly curious, but when I went to the library, all of their copies were checked out with waiting periods of up to a year. At last I'd get to find out what all the fuss was about. And even if it didn't live up to expectations, at least it had saved me from the bodice-ripping bimbos.

I cut my travel time to the airport a little close--you could still do that and get away with it in pre 9/11 days, so I didn't actually get to open the book until the plane took off. I flipped to the first page and read, "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much."

Revisiting Grandma - New Life for Things You've Written in the Past

When I published my new book, Hospice Tails, something happened that I hadn't expected--people began to take a new interest in my 2003 young adult novel, Visiting Grandma.

It made me smile, because the two books really could not be much more different from each other. Hospice Tails is an uplifting book of true stories about the loving bonds that exist between humans and their animal companions--bonds that sometimes even transcend death.

Visiting Grandma, on the other hand, is a gritty piece of work about a gay teenager who must find a way to save himself from his mother's sexually abusive boyfriend.

I wrote Visiting Grandma for several reasons. First, at the time the book was published, very few authors were acknowledging that men and boys are often the targets of sexual violence. Second, even when male sexual abuse was acknowledged in literature, the protagonist was almost always a straight character whose path to healing inevitably involved him realizing that he was still straight, that being assaulted had not made him gay.

Many of the friends I was talking to at the time, however, were gay men who had been sexually victimized as children and who struggled to come to terms with being attracted to members of the same gender that had once tortured them. Their stories were not being told.

A Eulogy for Borders

"Hey, do you want to go to a really neat bookstore?"

The year was 1992. I had just finished an intense self-defense class called Model Mugging. As well as learning how to defend myself in just about any situation that might arise, I had also made some lifelong friends in that class. They, too, dreamed of writing someday. They, like me, were nerds who would rather spend an hour in a bookstore than an hour trying on anorexic-special party dresses or heals never meant to support the human foot.

So when Ruth mentioned a "really neat bookstore" our ears pricked up. Ruth and her boyfriend Gordon drove us to the place, which turned out to be Borders. When I entered the huge store crammed with books from floor to ceiling, I literally gasped. I had never seen anything like it. I thought it held every single book in the world.