Heading to Dayton to attend the 2022 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop tomorrow!! Among other things, we will be celebrating that fact that Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter has won first place in the memoirs/life stories category of the 30th Annual Writer’s Digest Self-Published Book Awards!!! So excited and honored to have an essay included in this wonderful collection. You can find the story of how the book came to be here. If you don’t have a copy, get one! Send one to all the fabulous sisters (blood or not) in your life. Happy Reading!
I should have posted this last October when the book came out, like a competent writer would do. I got the posts to FB and IG…but forgot about posting it here (see previous BPS post).
Remember last year when I said an essay of mine was a contest winner and was going to be published in a compilation? Well, that has happened! Instead of thinking of this post as egregiously late, we are going to call it Phase 2 of the book launch! Here it goes:
Do you have a sister? Are you a sister? Know a sister? Have a friend you consider a sister? If so, do I have the book for you (or them)!
Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter
Featuring Nickie’s Prize Winners, Bestselling Authors, Saturday Night Live Legends
DAYTON, Ohio — Bestselling author Amy Ephron calls Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter “a tribute to the love, laughter and closeness of family that Erma Bombeck so brilliantly inhabited.”
Published by the University of Dayton’s Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, the book explores the humorous, nobody-else-could-ever-understand, special world of sister relationships — and friends in your life who are just like sisters. Sisters! features 21 original, hilarious stories by the winners of Nickie’s Prize for Humor Writing, including me! Available where you buy books.
For more on Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter, visit go.udayton.edu/erma/sisters.
MAKES A GREAT GIFT!!
It has a been brought to the attention of BPS (Blog Protection Services*) that the owner/operator of this website has been severely neglectful in its care and upkeep. BPS was all but convinced it had been abandoned, however when confronted with the accusations, the owner/operator pled guilty to the neglect, but adamantly insists it has not been abandoned. She’s blamed her inattention to her website’s maintenance on her day job and other obstacles life has lobbed her direction. BPS considers these to be flimsy excuses at best. With that said, BPS serves not to crush creative intentions, but as an entity to remind owner/operators not to forgot about their websites. Creative outlets can only provide joy and entertainment if they are nurtured and filled with content. BPS has been assured that this blog will get its act together.
It’s not a task, woman. It’s fun, remember?
*BPS is a fictional entity, but you can borrow it if you need a kick in the pants.
That’s the name of my essay that was just chosen as one of the winners of the Nickie’s Prize for Humor Writing competition sponsored by the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop! Take that 2020. You almost had me at rock bottom – but not now. Now, I am elated.😊
It’s fitting, kismet really, that this is my first acceptance. Without the support of the friends it’s about, I might have given up long ago. I might have continued to write, but remained terrified to submit. But I did it girls! I hit submit and here we are.
It’s only been a few hours, but my friends have already cast our parts in the sure to come Hollywood blockbuster. Halle Berry, Jennifer Garner, and Charlize Theron have no idea the fun they are in for. Nothing screams “Action Packed Thriller” like a movie about women bonding over a Scrabble board. We’re also going to write in another character, because we want Kristin Bell in the movie too. She’s just so damn versatile.
I’ll keep you posted about when and where you can read Scrabble Confessional. In the mean time, thanks to all. You know who you are. 😉 And a special thanks to the EBWW community. They rock!
Recently, I went to the dermatologist for my six month check. I see my dermatologist more often than any other physician due to sun damage caused by excessive time spent in swimming pools, fishing with my dad, and being a teenage beach bum. I’d barely walked into the exam room when the nurse asked if I would be interested in Botox.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” I asked.
“Oh! No, no, no. I just happen to have some left over that I need to use up. It’s about to expire.”
“Huh. Where do you think I would need it?”
“Between your eyebrows. It erases the lines there.” She held out a hand mirror.
“Which lines?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.
“Well you have to scrunch your eyebrows together to see them,” she said.
I scrunched my face to make my angry eyebrow look.
“There! Those lines!” She stabbed her finger between my eyes.
I flinched back, “Well, there aren’t really lines if I don’t scrunch.”
“And with Botox, there wouldn’t be any there when you do scrunch,” she chirped.
“So then, how will people know when I’m angry?”
She paused for a perplexed moment, then snatched the mirror out of my hand, “I don’t think Botox is your thing.”
“I don’t think expired Botox is my thing,” I murmured, angry eyebrows on full display.