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At the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop this year, by some miracle, my name was pulled from a hat, or a fishbowl. Maybe a Tupperware container. Anyway, at random, to read an essay.

I’d prepared for the moment even though I knew there was no way I’d be called on. After all, I was just one of more than 400 people in attendance. I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

Even with my knees shaking and my voice trembling (I know both to be true even though I’ve been told repeatedly that I seemed perfectly calm) I managed to hit the punch line just right for one of the heartiest laughs of the weekend. Two weeks later, I’m still a bit giddy.

I thought you might get a kick out of the essay. Just picture my knees not shaking and my voice not trembling, even though they did.

Bra Fitting

A few weeks ago, I decided it was time for a new bra. I checked my bank account to make sure I had enough to cover a bra purchase—those of you who’ve bought one in the past few years know what I mean. I’m pretty sure in the next decade or so there’ll be loan officers inside the lingerie department of Dillards. 

Even without the expense, I’ve always dreaded bra shopping. It’s hard to find the right fit and if you go home with the wrong one you might not even realize it until you’ve worn the bra for a full day. And then it’s too late to return it. Kind of like a husband. 

And don’t forget the awkwardness of being half naked in front of a complete stranger. Nevertheless, the time had come.  

So I steadied my nerves, hitched up my pants, and ventured into Dillards filled with purpose, only to discover they’d moved the dang bra department. After wandering through the Tommy Bahama section twice I realized I was going in circles, so I asked a sales associate who sent me downstairs. Apparently in my hurry to be done with the task I’d walked right past it. 

Still, it was early in the day and when I arrived there was no one other than this gorgeous full-figured woman behind the counter. I knew immediately that she “got” me. When she smiled, all my anxieties dissolved into thin air.

She escorted me to a room, discreetly took my measurements, then asked about my lifestyle and color preferences. Armed with all my pertinent information, she smiled that beautiful smile again and said, “l’ll be back with some bras in just a moment. Do you have anything to add?”

To which I replied. “No ma’am. My breasts are in your hands.”

We both stood for a heartbeat in awkward silence, while I turned bright red and stammered something like, “Well, that came out wrong.” 

And then she laughed. This full-throated laugh. “You made my day!”

Of course I bought bras. Multiple bras. Might have to sell the pickup to offset the cost, but I have new bras!

(I didn’t curtsy, but I might’ve teared up when one of my comedic heroines, Kathy Kinney, approached me afterward and offered these three little words: “You can write.” I think that or “my breasts are in your hands” should be inscribed upon my headstone.)

Peace, people!

In 2024, at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop in Dayton, Ohio, I met Leslie Noyes, a terrific writer and person who is also really funny. It comes …

Happy Valley Mayhem with Author Leslie Noyes and A $0.99 Special!!

The sky will last foreverThe clouds are temporaryIn a 100 years from nowWhat remains will be a poisoned seaSome will call it tragicWhen the sea puts …

100 YEARS FROM NOW

That does seem to be the question—at least among authors, both independently and traditionally published. And in both camps, the answer is usually a resounding “yes!”

I balked at starting one for the longest time, but finally caved in and created The Happy Valley Gazette earlier this year. I wasn’t all that excited about it, but I began to get a few subscribers and that was good. Still, the newsletter didn’t have nearly the range that my Facebook author page did…(cue the menacing soundtrack)

…and then my reasonably successful Facebook account was hacked, suspended, and ultimately kicked off the face of the earth, and there I was—stranded, with most of my followers gone and no way to reconnect with them.

Except, I now had a newsletter. Thank goodness. The mailing list allowed me to touch base with many of my Facebook followers, and while I’m still not back to normal, whatever normal looks like, I have grown the following more quickly than I might have without those newsletter connections.

As for newsletter content, I’m still working on that. But I think this month’s offering is particularly good. I added a bit of flash fiction—a sweet little prequel to the Happy Valley series.

If you’ve got a hankering to receive the newsletter, you can sign up on my website at leslienoyesbooks.com. And honestly, I don’t know if you’ll have access to previous newsletters, but I’ll plan on resending the current edition to new subscribers later this month.

Peace, people!

The noise ends today. Please exercise your right to vote; bring friends. There’s no excuse to sit this one out. There will be attempts to …

Finally, Election Day

I’ve had the same author account on Facebook for the past two and a half years. And while I didn’t have millions of followers on my Leslie Noyes, Author page I did have almost 2,500. But now, it’s gone. With the wind.

Starting over is no fun, but I’d tried sobbing hysterically, then beating my head against a metaphorical brick wall, and neither of those worked.

So, I’ve started a new account: The Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort and More. Yes, it’s a mouthful, but I wanted my readers to be able to find me.

I do have a website: https://www.leslienoyesbooks.com with a newsletter that’ll be emailed to subscribers tomorrow.

I also have a meager and cringe-worthy TikTok presence @leslienoyesauthor. It’s pretty awful with brief flashes of brilliance. I stick around because I love the filters that make me appear glamorous.

In other matters, currently I’m watching Emily in Paris, and that makes everything better.

Peace, people!

A few months ago, my Facebook account was hacked. Or cloned. Or something. I fell for a scam, responding to a video that appeared to be from a relative in need of my assistance. And in mere seconds my account was being used to lure people into used car scams.

Since then I’ve beaten my head against the wall on a daily basis. How could I have been so stupid?

I managed to get my account back. Sort of. But now at least once a month I get a notification from Facebook saying the account has been suspended for posting inappropriate material. (It’s legitimate. I’ve learned how to tell the difference between FB notifications and a scammer’s notifications. For what it’s worth: Yay, me.)

I jump through the hoops they put forward and then wait patiently until I’m allowed back into the account. At some point I figure my luck will run out and I’ll be permanently locked out. Maybe this time, since I’m currently locked out. And I’m anxious.

The thing is, Facebook is where I advertise. It’s where I’ve formed relationships with a whole bunch of readers. It’s my main conduit for selling my books.

And Facebook/META just doesn’t care. Why should they? I’m small potatoes in the grand scheme of things.

Sigh. Thanks for listening to my rant. How’s your day going?

Peace, people.

I’m a big fan of Sara Paretsky’s V.I. Warshswski series. I highly recommend them. Set in Chicago, the books make me nostalgic for the city I really came to love back when we lived in Illinois. We lived about three hours south of Chicago, but I never passed on an opportunity to visit.

I follow Ms. Paretsky on Facebook. She’s wonderful. Witty and caring and so on top of things. I don’t have many heroes, but she’s definitely one of them. This is all to say that I geeked out a little when she commented on something on my Facebook feed.

I can die happy now. Wait, I want a cheesy pizza first—Chicago style, please. THEN I can die happy.

Peace, people!

Today is my tenth anniversary on WordPress. Hard to believe. I don’t post much anymore. I’m too busy working on my novels and marketing them and trying to get my newsletter going. That last one’s been a pain.

One would think that coming up with content for a monthly newsletter would be easy. After all, I wrote a daily blog for almost eight years. But every time I log into my newsletter, I go blank. Totally blank.

The problem is that I don’t want to reveal secrets that are key to my books. And not knowing which of my newsletter subscribers have read which book(s), I might easily include a spoiler.

Oh, and the platform I use for my newsletters is way more sophisticated than I am. Sigh. I spend almost as much time trying to make things work as I do crafting a chapter.

But the books are doing well. I now have six novels in a women’s action/cozy mystery series and one stand-alone, somewhat spicy romance. My Facebook page has pretty much taken the place of this blog.

I considered not renewing my subscription to WP, but I’ve met so many nice folks here and learned so much that I wanted to maintain those connections. So I’ll continue to lurk in the shadows. I might not comment much, but I’m reading!

As always, peace, people!

This story has a happy ending, but at the time I wrote this, it sure didn’t look all that favorable for yours truly,

Okay, before I lose my mind completely I’m going to tell you I TRIED to write today. I really did. But I opened up my Word file for Greed at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort to find that my subscription to Microsoft Word had lapsed and that I needed to renew. I could READ my work in progress but couldn’t WRITE anything.

No biggie. Right?? WRONG. I could not remember the password for the account. And my phone number had changed since I set it up. I filled out a form, but couldn’t recall any previous passwords. I don’t think I ever had but the one.

I tried to chat with support through a new account I made just for that purpose, but after getting shuffled around six times I lost the connection and almost cried. Almost.

Microsoft sent me a note saying they couldn’t verify my information and to submit another form. Basically it wanted me to once again say I didn’t know anything it was asking for one more time. Like maybe I’d suddenly remembered an old password that I never had in the first place. Yes, I need a better password system. I know.

I filled out the form anyway only to get a message saying I’d used up all my attempts. Try again in 24 hours. So, if you hear a scream coming from the southeastern corner of the country, it’s probably me.