Tag Archives: Memoirs of an Ordinary Girl

It’s My Book and I’ll Brag if I Want to

Self publishing= self promoting= a difficult equation (I hate equations anyway because I hate math).

My book was finished over two years ago, but as a teacher, I found the only time I really had to put into the process of trying to publish it came in the summer, and so each summer I would research and see that trends were constantly changing.  I know this is usually true of most anything, but technology is changing the publishing world so quickly that I just couldn’t keep up with what I would need to do anymore, so I risked self publishing. I figured it was the only way I’d ever actually have time to publish my masterpiece.

Now I have to self promote, and that seems even harder.  I use Facebook, this blog, and word of mouth, because that’s really all I have.  The thing is, I know my book is awesome.  I’m not usually the type to seriously brag, but why not do it when I’m sure of something?  Yes, I’m biased, but it’s true.  The book is funny, and real (well, it’s fiction, but it’s realistic), and covers a time in life we’ve all had to survive…middle school.  I’ve also been told by some people who know me that reading the book is like listening to me talk, which means I managed to capture my “voice” in the book, something of which I am proud.

Cover art by the talented Sydney Schake

As of now, my book is only available through Amazon’s Kindle Store.  So, of course I get people who say things like, “That’s cool, but wouldn’t you like to actually have it published- you know in a real book?”  (…as if my book is the Pinocchio of the book world). Yep, that hurts.  They might as well be saying, “You know you didn’t really get your book published.  I wasn’t planning to read it anyway, but I just really wanted to pop your bubble in case you were proud of your accomplishment.”  Thanks for the support people!  How’d the book you wrote do?  Oh yeah, that’s right, you didn’t write one!  Stop tinkling in my Lucky Charms!

Yes, I would love to open up a real printed copy of my book, press my nose up to the pages and breathe in that new book aroma, and to fan the pages against my skin like feathers.  I also have this secret dream that maybe someone will just happen to come across my book and I will get an offer for it to be printed.  It could happen, right?  Of course, there’s also the print on demand setup I’m thinking about doing.  It’s still not quite the same, but some people told me they’re holding out because they don’t want an electronic copy.

For now, I really just want to promote my book as much as possible.  Most of the people I know who are actually going to read it already have, so I need help from the outside.  You can help by checking out my book (teaser included on Amazon page) and “like” my Facebook author page. 

“If you don’t expect too much, you won’t be disappointed. This isn’t a ‘self-help’ book to boost your friend and/or money making abilities. In fact, I’ll teach you how to NOT throw the perfect party, how to NOT land the boyfriend of your dreams, and how to NOT be popular.”

Set in the early 1990’s, in this story the author retells the experiences of Drew Hotchner, an “extraordinarily ordinary” girl through Drew’s possibly wiser and honest adult self. Drew struggles not only with the unavoidable awkwardness of being in middle school, but also with having to start over again her entire social world after she experiences the culture shock of moving across the country. Through her humorous adventures in trespassing, accidental theft, and throwing punches at her best friend, the relatable Drew learns who she really is. And if you can admit you are also extraordinarily ordinary, just as Drew claims to be, that we all just want to know who we really are, and that sometimes we surprise ourselves along the way, this might be the book for you.

Please Don’t Call Me a Tease, Even if I Am

I’ve decided to give you all another little sample from my book.

I See What You Mean

Soon after we got back to school, I got called into the nurse’s office.  She wanted to check my vision.  I looked at charts with all sorts of letters, with one eye, then the other, then both.  She asked me if I ever got headaches, did I have to squint a lot, and where did I sit in my classes?  No on the headaches, yes on the squinting, sometimes, and in the back whenever possible were my replies.

“Drew, I am making a note for my records, and I am sending home a letter with you to your parents suggesting they take you to get glasses.”  She smiled like she hadn’t just said every teenage girl’s nightmare was now happening to me.

“Glasses?” I tripped over the word, practically spitting it out, which would have been really embarrassing.

“Or contacts,” she added with a reassuring note.  “That’s up to you and your parents.  But you can’t keep ignoring the problem.  Your eyes will just get worse.”

The funny thing was that I had never noticed I had a problem until that day.  I never thought about how natural it felt to squint my eyes into the perfect slat to make the board visible, or the fact that I often dazed off when it came time to read overheads or watch videos.  Everyone did that.  At home, I usually planted myself on the floor with a pillow, so I was never extremely far away from the TV, and books were held closely anyway.  Glasses.  How could this be?  After that day, all of these irritations became more noticeable to me, and I was getting frustrated, but would not give my parents the note from the nurse.  I figured she would forget all about me.  I was usually good at being forgotten by adults, being the quiet one and all.  But I had a bad feeling when I got off the bus one afternoon.  Usually I had the bad feeling when I got on the bus, so I knew there had to be a problem.

“Drew,” my mother greeted me at the door that day.  Unusual.  “Has anything interesting come up at school over the last few weeks?”  I thought for a long while.  I knew I was making mostly B’s in my classes, so nothing there alarmed me.  The bus rides, though dreaded, had been uneventful, and I had actually put the visit with the nurse in the back of my mind by then, as much as possible.

“No, not really.  They started serving curly fries in the cafeteria,” I offered.  I wasn’t trying to be funny, but Mom thought so.

“Young lady, vision impairment is a serious matter.”  In my mind, everything came crashing down on me.  The nurse must have called because the letter was so far lost in my locker, it would have taken the jaws-of-life to dig it out.

“Oh yeah, that.  I forgot to tell you.”  I was able to use my meager eyesight to focus in on a speck of dirt on the floor, avoiding eye contact with my mom.

“Just like you forgot to give me the letter the nurse sent home, right?”

“You know I always forget to give you notes and letters from school.  Remember when I had to clean my room when we packed everything up to move?  There were probably hundreds of notes under my bed and shoved in drawers.  It’s kinda what I do,” I chanced a smile, remembering too late that vision impairment is serious.

“I called and made an appointment for Thursday with an optometrist.  We’ll get your eyes tested, and then you can pick out some glasses.”

“Does it have to be glasses?  Could I get contacts, please?  I don’t want to look like a geek.”

“Drew, I don’t know about looking like a geek or dweeb or whatever.  Your eyesight is important.  We’ll have to see how much contacts cost.  But the bottom line is that you need to be able to see the bottom line.”  She seemed to smirk, realizing her play on words.  I was not amused.  My life was over.
Copyright 2012

If you like it, if you can relate to it, or if you know anyone else who can relate to this, or who is in middle school now, you can find the entire book, Memoirs of an Ordinary Girl by Terri Klaes Harper, on Amazon’s kindle store (btw- you can download a free kindle app onto pretty much any electronic device).  If you love it, spread the word, rate it, and/or like my author page on Facebook.