Writer Wednesday: Introducing...

Me.

I was supposed to interview someone else, someone way more fabulous, but I'm afraid you're stuck with me today. My name is Pamela Skjolsvik and I write.  I'm not on the NYT's best seller list.  In fact, I have a fairly slim publishing history.  And you know what?  That's okay.  I keep putting myself out there because a.) I'm very persistent and b.) my sensitive, thin writer skin is now becoming thick and calloused.  In fact, I laugh at the cool calculated form letters of rejection.  Ha!

So anyway, in the past month, most of my writer brain cells have been focused on this blog.  I discovered through the A-Z challenge that I kind of like this blogging thing.  It's casual.  There's no pressure.  I don't feel like I have to be smart or profound or have a terrific narrative arc.  I just get to be me and connect with people. And sometimes what ends up on this blog means something to someone and let me tell you, that is a WONDERFUL feeling.  

But in the past week, things have changed.  I sent out my book proposal to an agent and she was kind enough to read it and give me some pointers about how to make it better.  So, now I've got to write like my life depends on it and what am I doing?  I'm writing this blog.  Why?  

Because I'm afraid.

I'm afraid that I'm not good enough.

Or smart enough.

And that people won't like me.

FEAR.  It is a total and complete bitch.  Up until the age of 38, my fear of social situations and meeting new people prevented me from actually living my life.  It took going to grad school in a mid-life crisis moment of "what am I going to be when I grow up?" to finally start living.  But I had to look at death to do that.  Funny how that worked.  Oh, and I also went to therapy after that whole death trip.  Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is wonderful if you're afraid to walk into a party and not be a wine swilling dip clinger.  (and yes, wine swilling dip clinger just popped out of my head and I ran with it.  Say it three times fast!)

So, next week, I'll have my regularly scheduled writer on here.  I will have my proposal done or pretty close to being done.  And I will kick fear's ass to the curb.  Kinda like Ripley in the power loader.

So, what are you doing this week?  Going to the beach?  Reading a good book?  Fighting aliens in your mind?   Tell me.

Movie Tuesday: How to Die in Oregon

I've written about this movie before, but that was prior to people actually reading my blog.  Like last week's post, this is a documentary, probably the most powerful, beautiful documentary I've ever seen and I've seen a few.  It's about the Death with Dignity law in Oregon.  So, watch the trailer.  And if you can, watch the film.  It's out on dvd now.  I'd love to hear what you thought about it.  Yes, it's controversial, but I guarantee this film will get you talking about death.  And that's an important talk to have.

Okay, brave readers, who has seen this film?  Anyone live in Oregon?  Talk to me.

Monday Mournings: The Death of a Sister

Susan Oloier, author and writer; mother and wife. In my previous life I was a third grade teacher and Reading Specialist until my husband and I decided to quit our jobs, sell our house, and buy an RV to travel the U.S. for a year with our then two-year-old son. Now I write and take care of my kiddos. I was raised in the Midwest, lived in Phoenix for quite some time, and now reside in SW CO.

DW: Who was the person who died?

Susan: My sister-in-law, Sara. Her death last year dealt a devastating blow.

DW: How old were you at the time?

Susan: Early 40s.

DW: How old was the person?

Susan: 36

DW:Was it a sudden death or did you know it was going to happen?

Susan: It was sudden and tragic. Sara was driving home from work, and there was a horrible car accident. No one else was involved. Somehow, she wound up hitting a concrete light pole. I believe they had to use the jaws of life to extricate her. She was taken to the hospital with countless injuries. I can still picture her lying there—so much herself, yet so very different. She never did wake up, so my brother was faced with some extremely difficult decisions. To this day, no one knows what happened.

DW: Did you and Sara ever talk about death?

Susan: We never really talked about her death. Though, I would occasionally bring up the life-limiting diagnosis of my younger son with her. She was so warm and loving with him; very compassionate.

DW: Had you experienced any other deaths in your personal life before this person died?

Susan: Yes. Many. Family pets (don’t laugh), all of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, two miscarriages, a close friend to cancer, and way too many children of other families who had children with Trisomy 18—my son’s diagnosis. In fact, after Zane was born, we were told to expect him to die within a few months. So death seemingly has been a companion lately.

DW: Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away when you were grieving?

Susan: I found people to be very supportive. There was a lot of family around after Sara’s death. But everyone was really in shock. I helped my brother and Sara’s parents plan out the memorial, and I helped officiate. So, in addition to grieving, I found myself in the role of supporting my brother’s grief, as well.

DW: Is there anything you wish you’d done differently with Sara?

Susan: I wish I would have reached out to her more, gotten to know her better. We were just coming to a point where we were feeling so much like sisters. So many times I get caught up in the minutiae of life that I tend to let too much time go by between calling someone. Maybe we’re all a little guilty of this. But it will always be my regret with Sara. I wish I could tell her how much she meant to me. But somehow, I believe she already knows that.

DW: Was she buried or cremated?

Susan: She was cremated.

DW: Did you learn anything about the grieving process that you'd like to share?

Susan: I believe grieving is a life-long process sometimes, especially when death is untimely. I learned this from all the babies and children who have died as a result of complications associated with Trisomy 18; I’ve learned it with Sara. One critical thing I’ve discovered is that loved ones don’t want us to forget those who have passed. So we need to keep talking about them and not be afraid of hurting those who remain by bringing up their names. They’ve already been through the worst. We need to keep them alive in spirit, in heart, and in memory. It’s when others stop asking and talking about the deceased that it becomes especially painful.

DW: I couldn't agree more. Last but not least, were any songs played at the memorial that were

important to Sara?

Susan: There’s one from Rascal Flatts that was their wedding song, but it’s still too painful to have you play that. I can picture them dancing together at the reception to it. Instead, my brother made a slideshow using In My Life by the Beatles. Listening to it (even today) brings me to tears and makes me think of the memorial. It is so very fitting, though. And Sara’s parents are huge Beatles fans.

This one goes out to Sara...