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Betting on a Two Million Dollar Flop

Is it better, as an author, to make a solid $50,000 on a book and have a tremendous success in the marketplace?

Or is it better to get a $2 million advance on a book and have it die on the vine of public prosperity and to have it slashed by the critics?

Is success for an author measured in popularity or by the pocketbook?

The Naked Woe is Me Diet

A good friend of mine told me yesterday she lost 63 pounds in 90 days with the following diet plan. She would take off all her clothes in the morning and stand in front of a full-length mirror and yell at her fat body: “I hate you!” Then she’d shower, eat a small meal, get dressed and go to work — eat nothing for lunch — and when she returned home at night she would repeat her morning naked “I hate you!” ritual before she had a sensible dinner. She found success in her quest to lose weight.

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For My Father

by Noemi Szadeczky-Kardoss


For the first time in my life, I don’t know which way to go.

When I was little, it was easy. I just had to follow the arrows, and they lead me to you. You drew them on the sidewalks with white chalk so that I would find my way from the playground to your workplace. Do you remember? You used to let me play as long as I wanted, but you never stayed with me. The work couldn’t wait, you used to say. But before you left, you always made sure the arrows were still visible on the sidewalks. If the rain had washed them away, you drew them again.

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Let the Healing Begin

by Nancy McDaniel

I never seem to do things in the right order. I floss my teeth in the morning, not at night. I brush before I floss, not after. I get dressed before I put on my makeup. I quit my job before I had another. I say “I love you” first. You get the picture.

And now I’m trying to figure out how to grieve. Not a death of a person. The death of a relationship. The death of love. It didn’t die for me. It died for him. So I must find a way to put it to rest too and get on with my everyday life.

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Scar Tissue

by Janet Hanna

I don’t want to talk about the bruises.
I don’t want to talk about the wounds.
I want to talk about the scar tissue,
the angry, dark red, thin lines
that go deep,

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