The Misadventures In Candyland

It's Time To Meet SEBASTIAN ALVAREZ!

2017-06-25T17:11:00.002-07:00

The time has come...

For you to meet the other 1/2 of my dynamic duo...

Are you ready?

...ARE YOU READYYYYY?

K...

We're ONE month from the pub date for my debut YA novel, THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH! This is one of your last two chances to get to know the characters before you read! You can also check out the 1st 2 chapters on griffinteen.com!

Author's note: My book contains heavy language in parts! My characters are seniors in high school! If you're thinking of gifting to a younger teen or middle schooler, take a peek for yourself, first!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: Sebastian Alvarez

SEBASTIAN ALVAREZ in a nutshell: Bash may not always make the best decisions at the time, but he always has good intentions. He's a loyal friend (to the bitter end), and his Ma's reason for everything—though, he may not actually be all the things he tells her he is. Why crush a dying woman's view of her only son?

Why you'll root for him: Bash means well (really, he does). It just doesn't always go as planned. He's always struggled with his place in the world. Having never met his father, then enduring his Ma's abusive relationship through his early teen years, he may have gotten into trouble for a bit, but he has dreams and he'll find a way to live them.

Favorite Bash moment: When he comforts his Ma in the nursing home.

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for my Release Day party on July 25th! There *may* even be prizes involved!

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your Christmas-in-July shopping!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

Now that you know all my characters, who are you most like?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

It's Time to Meet BIRDIE PAXTON...

2017-05-25T06:56:00.004-07:00

The time has come...

For you to meet 1/2 of my dynamic duo...

Are you ready?

...ARE YOU READYYYYY?

K...

We're 2 months from the pub date for my debut YA novel, THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH! This is one of your last two chances to get to know the characters before you read! You can also check out the 1st 2 chapters on griffinteen.com!

Author's note: My book contains heavy language in parts! My characters are seniors in high school! If you're thinking of gifting to a younger teen or middle schooler, take a peek for yourself, first!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: Birdie Paxton

BIRDIE PAXTON in a nutshell: It's hard to boil Birdie down, because she's soooo complex. A girl after my own heart, she doesn't completely believe in love (except for her Nan and Sarge's example), she thinks too much using facts and logic, and doesn't rely on what the heart wants. She'd leave home for the college of her dreams without looking back (and has a thorough plan to do so) because life is nothing without a plan. But when her family's thrown into tragedy, her plan changes. Growth and evolution are inevitable—just like falling for someone she shouldn't—but the question is (the one we all ask ourselves, I think), will she fight it or let it change her?

Why you'll root for her: Birdie's all the parts of me that need stability to stay afloat. She has a plan for her future, she's worked hard to get where she is, and despite the setbacks, continues to dream big no matter what's happening around her (and it's a lot). Even when her life is disrupted, this tough girl tries (and fails) to hold onto the facts to ground her. Without facts, she believes in nothing, but sometimes, facts aren't as important as hope—no matter how small the chances are that everything will be OK.

Favorite Birdie moment: When she finally lets go.

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study the 25th of June 2017, which will be a full-length feature of the second half of my couple (and my main man), SEBASTIAN ALVAREZ!

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your pre-Christmas-in-July shopping!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

In the meantime tell me, do you consider yourself a Birdie?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Birdie & Bash Character Study #6!

2017-04-27T07:48:00.003-07:00

Hello, hello!

To kick off the countdown to July 25th, 2017 (I know, it seems far away but it's really only 3 months away—whaaaaa???!!!), I'll be showcasing a different character from my debut YA novel—THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH—until release! This is your chance to get to know everyone before you read! You can also check out the 1st 2 chapters on griffinteen.com!

Author's note: My book contains heavy language in parts! My characters are seniors in high school! If you're thinking of gifting to a younger teen, take a peek for yourself, first (but know they speak this way because of how they were raised).

Today's Character Study Focuses on: Wild Kyle

WILD KYLE in a nutshell: Legit the worst kind of friend. Selfish AF, conceited, and the type who buys his way out of trouble. He's the actual worst so hopefully you'll root for his demise, too.

Why he's important to the story: Kyle reflects Bash's bad choices back onto him. He's the antagonist needed to push Bash into good (or bad) and without his presence, Bash would probably have an okay life. Unfortunately, he's a necessary evil to help my sweet B grow into the man I know he can be.

Favorite Wild Kyle moment: I wrote him and hate him, so, finding a fav anything about WK is tricky. If I tell you my favorite part involving him, it'll give things away so you'll have to read to find out! I know—that was lame city. But I bet you're curious now!

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study the 25th of May 2017, which will be a full-length feature of my main girl, BIRDIE PAXTON!

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your post-Christmas shopping (use those amazon gift cards on ME)!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

In the meantime tell me, do you know a d-bag like Wild Kyle?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Birdie & Bash Character Study #5!

2017-03-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

Hello, hello!

To kick off the countdown to July 25th, 2017 (I know, it seems far away but it's really only 4 months away—whaaaaa???!!!), I'll be showcasing a different character from my debut YA novel—THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH—until release! This is your chance to get to know everyone before you read! You can also check out the 1st 2 chapters on griffinteen.com!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: BESS & BROOKS PAXTON (Birdie's parents)

BESS & BROOKS in a nutshell: This longtime couple have had their hardships and even as they struggle to make it work for their children, there's always the lingering question "Is love really enough?" With Brooks working all the time (and still not making enough) and Bess having "thrown away" the life she wanted to be a mother, a lot of Birdie's reasoning and drive comes from not wanting to turn out like her parents.

Why they're important to the story: Marriage is complicated enough without tragedy. While they're the foundation for Birdie's story, a lot of their individual struggles apply to anyone who's ever been in love, or experienced loss. Bess is the dreamer, comparable to Birdie's crush, Bash, while Brooks is the practical one—more like Birdie herself. They ground her; cement her into what's important, just as everything else feels lost.

Favorite BESS & BROOKS non-dialogue actions: While awaiting news of their youngest son in the hospital—whether he will live or die—Bess insists on staying at her son's side while Brooks returns home to carefully pack clothes and things that might comfort his grieving wife. These actions are small in excitement but bit in meaning as they've had such difficulty staying afloat already and now here they are, holding onto whatever they can so not to fall apart.

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study the 25th of April 2017!

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your post-Christmas shopping (use those amazon gift cards on ME)!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

In the meantime tell me, do you know a couple like Bess & Brooks?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Birdie & Bash Character Study #4

2017-02-25T09:53:00.000-08:00

Oh, hey! How you doin'?

To kick off the countdown to July 25th, 2017 (I know, it seems far away but it's really only 5 months from tomorrow—whaaaaa???!!!), I'll be showcasing a different character from my debut YA novel—THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH—until release! This is your chance to get to know everyone before you read! You can also check out the 1st 2 chapters on griffinteen.com!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: VIOLET

VIOLET in a nutshell: You know that friend who believes in positive thinking, silver linings, and literally everything a horoscope says? Violet not only has an acupuncturist, iridologist, and actually has a book of silver linings, she's Birdie's BFF through everything—except for this one major secret between them—Bash.

Why she's important to the story: Everyone needs that person who lifts them up when everything goes to the crapper. Violet is Birdie's silver lining, personified.

Favorite VIOLET line: "Bitches be trippin'."

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study the 25th of March 2017! EEK! It's getting closer :D

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your post-Christmas shopping (use those amazon gift cards on ME)!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

In the meantime tell me, who is YOUR Violet?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Birdie & Bash Character Study #3

2017-01-25T08:50:00.001-08:00

HAP HAP HAPPY NEW [dumpster fire start of a] YEAR!

To kick off the countdown to July 25th, 2017 (I know, it seems far away but it's really only 6 months from tomorrow—whaaaaa???!!!), I'll be showcasing a different character from my debut YA novel—THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH—until release! This is your chance to get to know everyone before you read! You can also check out the 1st 2 chapters on griffinteen.com!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: CAMILLA

CAMILLA in a nutshell: Camilla is as tough as they get. Hard-ass worker, takes no bull, will do anything for the love of her life (Bash) kind of mother. Even in fighting cancer, it's apparent the hardest thing she's ever done has nothing to do with the above. It's leaving Bash.

Why she's important to the story: Everything Bash is, and does, is a direct result of his beloved, Ma.

Favorite CAMILLA line: (On why she thinks fate is a man) "Only a man would be cocky enough to decide the huge responsibility of destiny." (<--right?!)

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study the 25th of February 2017!

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your post-Christmas shopping (use those amazon gift cards on ME)!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

In the meantime tell me, who is YOUR Camilla?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Birdie & Bash Character Study #2!

2016-12-25T07:01:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS (or whatever it is you celebrate)!

To kick off the countdown to July 25th, 2017 (I know, it seems far away but it's really not), I'll be showcasing a different character from my debut YA novel—THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH—until release! This is your chance to get to know everyone before you read!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: BRYNN

BRYNN in a nutshell: Brynn is the younger sibling a lot of us have grown up with. She's bratty, entitled, and really really annoying to overachieving older sis, Birdie. But, their love for each other is obvious, however nuanced in nitpicking and miscellaneous arguments. It helps them find a calm within their family's storm. It's too bad things may have spiraled "the night of" because of Brynn's threats in the first place. Afterall, someone has to announce Birdie's mistakes and she's the first volunteer to do it. Unfortunately, the damage has been done.

Why she's important to the story: Brynn contradicts Birdie in nearly every way. Her presence forces Birdie to see the bigger picture, even when all seems lost.

Favorite BRYNN line: "No. You’re more than the melody—you’re the whole song that plays on the radio over and over until people get sick of it. You’re, like, everything."

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study the 25th of January 2017 (which I hope to be a better year than the last *groans*).

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your post-Christmas shopping (use those amazon gift cards on ME)!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

And check out my website for other cool links!

Clickety clickety click everywhere! And exclamation points, too!!!

In the meantime tell me, who is YOUR Brynn?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Birdie & Bash Character Study #1

2016-11-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

Hey, all! Welcome!

So, how the eff are you? I hope you're well and had a super-fab Thanksgiving!

To kick off the countdown to July 25th, 2017 (I know, it seems far away but it's really not), I'll be showcasing a different character from my debut YA novel—THE INEVITABLE COLLISION OF BIRDIE & BASH—until release! This is your chance to get to know everyone before you read!

Today's Character Study Focuses on: SARGE

SARGE in a nutshell: Based as a semi-homage to my Gram, Sarge —a recent widower — is my Vietnam vet who isn't afraid to tell it like it is. And though he might reference every current event to the war, he has an infinite soft spot for his eldest granddaughter, Birdie. Because he lives with his daughter, Bess, and the whole Paxton clan, Sarge is everything the family needs, yet, he's careful not to overstep (except for his excessive bubble wrap popping).

Why he's important to the story: Everyone needs that one person who grounds them through tragedy and triumph. Sarge provides the kind of support the Paxton's need while, in turn, he's receiving the support he needs, too.

Favorite SARGE line: "The only way around the pain is through."

Thanks for stopping by! Stay tuned for the next Character Study!

You can pre-order Birdie & Bash as part of your #blackfriday shopping!

Preorder on Amazon

Preorder on Barnes & Noble

Preorder on IndieBound

In the meantime tell me, who is YOUR Sarge?

<3

Candyland. OUT.

You'll never believe what I'm doing...

2016-11-16T06:35:00.000-08:00

Hey there, gorgeous.

Yeah, YOU.

#sorrynotsorry for the clickbait but you're here and that's all that matters now!

I know it's been a hot minute since we last spoke (and I'm so sorry) but I think right now would be a great time for an uplifting distraction other than cat videos (bc I've seriously watched them all). So you know I sold Birdie & Bash and you see the Tweets and posts and blah blah blah about this book you know so little about and maybe you're like yay! but part of you is like whatthewhat? so now would be a stellar time to, ya know, tell you more about this book and WHY you should pre-order it now.

If you haven't yet, you can sign up for my newsletter HERE. Don't worry—you'll only get one on the 25th of each month with super important, sometimes exclusive, info like event and launch dates, excerpts, and special giveaways.

Also starting Novemeber 25th, the day of the first important newsletter, I'll be counting down until the release of Birdie & Bash (July 25th, 2017 via St. Martin's Griffin) with each post highlighting a character from the book so you can really get in their heads before you dive into their journey.

Let me repeat.

Sign up for my newsletter HERE in order to get all the VIP info.

AND

Check back on November 25th for my very first character study. Who will it be?

Until then, make sure you've added Birdie & Bash on Goodreads and if you want to go ahead and preorder from any of these fine stores, I won't be mad atcha.

PREORDER BIRDE & BASH HERE

ADD TO GOODREADS HERE

Questions? Comments? General inquiries about cat videos? Drop them below!

<3

Candyland. OUT.

The Inevitable Collision of Birdie + Bash SOLD! SOLD! SOLD!

2016-01-15T09:06:00.002-08:00

Hello, friends. I know I've been M.I.A. But, I feel terrible about it and have been silently sulking because I miss you sososo much. Does that make it any better? How about if I hold you and tell you you're so pretty? Does anyone even blog anymore? Or could I literally say anything and like no one will read it? (testing...I ate some Chex Mix off the floor today...testing).

Anyway.

ICYMI, this happened:

So yeah. Loyal readers from years' past, you know my treacherous journey. And here I am.

Anywho.

What's up with you, boos?

<3

CandylandSOLDBOOKS. Out.

That time I tried to say goodbye...

2015-03-07T09:13:00.000-08:00

This last week was the hardest of my entire life.

I would love to blame it on the fact that I witnessed both a raccoon and cat get hit on two separate occasions, or that I went to a bathroom at a rest stop on the way to Indiana from Ohio and a second pair of underwear fell out of my pants, or that the rejections on my latest manuscript are the nicest, most complimentary I've ever had, making this writing thing as heart wrenching as when Aerosmith temporarily broke up. But no.

One week ago today, the woman I lived with off and on throughout the years, the woman who taught me how to be a human, the woman who made me understand what LOVE means, my sweet Gram, passed.

For those of you who follow me on any of my social media hangouts, you know she'd been sick awhile. The beginning of the end was official about a year ago when she moved into the first nursing home. There will be some of you, like me, who will see this news and think "she was old; it's what old people do--they die." Or "what a great grandma she must've been." And it's really difficult to put into words, to explain to those who don't know, who this woman was to me.

She. Was. Every. Thing.

For seven days now, I've awakened in tears, the feeling of her in this world...gone. No matter how much we all braced ourselves, said our goodbyes, nothing could have prepared me for this loss. Nothing. The air has been pulled out of my lungs. She was that necessary, that vital, to my life on this earth. Even miles away, just knowing she was there was enough to help me breathe and that thing, breathing, is hard enough already.

Even right in the middle of writing the obituary and eulogy, of helping pick out the flower arrangement for the top of her casket, of choosing the songs for the service, of transporting all the funeral flowers and writing thank you notes, there's been this one thing I can't seem to grasp:

She's really gone.

One thing you may or may not know about me is, when it comes to death, loss, my development is severely arrested. Try as I might, I can't connect the series of events so they make sense to me, so it hurts less. It's not in my vocabulary or thought process to lose such a valuable piece of me and have any sort of peace with it. If you've read anything about grieving the loss of my absentee biological father some 7 years later, you can imagine how broken I'm feeling right now, losing the most significant person of my lifetime.

The Obituary

Mary "Elsie" Carvin, 87, Jonesboro, went to be with the Lord at 5:54 a.m. on Saturday, February 28, 2015, at Marion Rehab and Assisted Living following an extended illness. Elsie was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to the late Jasper and Ethel Evans. She married her one true love, James Carvin, of Big Springs, TN, in 1946 and was married to him for 44 years until his passing in 1990.

Elsie retired from Foster Forbes Glass Company after 30 years. She loved being with her family and was known for her delicious biscuits and gravy. She enjoyed watching WWE wrestling, Law & Order, and other crime shows on TV. She also enjoyed reading John Grisham books, doing puzzles with her sister, popping bubble wrap, and laughing all the time at anything. Her vivacious spirit and love of life will be missed immensely by everyone who was fortunate enough to have known her.

Elsie is survived by her two daughters, Sherry (Terry) McCann, Marion, and Kathy (Randy) Craig, New Castle; adopted son, Jimmy (Betty) Brown, Decatur, TN; five grandchildren, Amber (Clint) Callahan, Anderson, Amy Columbus, Jonesboro, Micah McCann, Marion, Candace (Erik) Ganger, Covington, OH, and Jacob (Leigh) Woodard, Wondunna, Queensland, Australia; 13 great-grandchildren, Blake, Brett, Brooke, Jasmine, Amiya, Ivy, Leyton, Preston, Sophia, Lilli, Sullivan, Payton, and Grace; one great-great-grandchild, Skylyn; sister, Margaret Dale Wesling, Marion; brother, Robert E. (Pat) Evans, Plant City; and many nieces, nephews, and friends.

Those also preceding Elsie in death include her brothers, Albert and Jesse Evans; sister, Annie McKinley; and grandson, Joshua McCann.

The family will receive visitors on Thursday, March 5, 2015, from 3-7 p.m. at Needham-Storey-Wampner Funeral Service, Storey Chapel, 400 E. Main St., Gas City, IN.

The Funeral Service will be at 10 a.m. on Friday, March 6, 2015, at the funeral home with Pastor Eddie Cantrell officiating. Burial will be at Riverside Cemetery in Gas City.

Donations may be made to the funeral home for funeral expenses.

Online condolences may be made at www.nswcares.com.

The Eulogy

Most of you know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Kathy’s daughter, Elsie’s granddaughter, Candace. I’ve been writing most of my life, both personally and professionally, but, aside from the obituary, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever written because my Gram was literally, loved by everyone who met her, and there’s no way I can even get this close to right. But I’ll try.

1998 was the first time I said goodbye to her. I slept in the ICU waiting room while we prayed for her to pull through but little did I know how much fight she had, or how many times I’d frantically drive to hospitals many, many, MANY more times to say goodbye, over the years. She lived all nine of her cat lives and often said “you can’t kill a hillbilly.” But even through her pain, she never complained while caring for and thinking about others around her. She was the epitome of compassion and empathy.

What I’ll miss the most, though, is her sense of humor and ability to laugh at every situation, no matter how frustrating, confusing, or painful. A good example of this, was this past Monday. While funeral planning shouldn’t be a time of happiness, those hours spent pouring over every detail of Gram’s final send-off felt more like an episode of Seinfeld than a grief-support group. Maybe that’s not normal but it was the first I’d laughed, or maybe even smiled, since the news of her passing. And this, I know, would make her so proud of us because she wouldn’t want us wasting tears over her.

Some of my favorite memories are the simplest. I still very clearly feel her slipping on my shoes those early mornings before school. Or the smell of her as she hugged me. Or the way her hand felt on mine when she’d pat pat pat. Or the days she’d bring me waffles in bed and Grandpa would say “you’ve got her spoiled,” and Gram would reply with “well, it’s little,” followed by a kiss on the forehead and another pat pat pat on my hand. Those days were my favorite days in life and I so wish I could have more of them.

Going to her house meant there’d always be Coke in the fridge and bubble wrap on her bed. It meant Law and Order marathons at night—the ones with Jerry Orbach—and pizza on Sundays. It meant the best fudge on Christmas and the good luck meal on New Year’s Day (which I never ate). It meant feeling safe, secure, and loved, no matter what the world thought of me. It meant she’d be there through job loss and my first, second, and third broken hearts. It meant when the world was crumbling down around me, she’d be there with her arms wide open. No questions asked.

In elementary, she’d let me play in her makeup and curl her hair. In middle school, she’d pick me up and take me to Fazoli’s, where we’d share breadsticks and gossip about what’s happening in Star magazine, which she referred to as “the paper.” In high school, she’d find an old guitar of Grandpa’s that I’d get re-strung, so I could learn the Law and Order theme song. Just for her. She gave me self-confidence, believed in me, and made me think I could do or be anything.

In my adulthood, even after moving to another state, I couldn’t see her as much as I wanted, but there’s never been a moment she wasn’t with me in some way—mostly when I’m driving because I’m really just grateful I’m still alive after all those years of riding in a car she was driving. The state of Indiana thanks whoever finally took her keys.

Last May, when things started going downhill again, I went to see my hero on Mother’s Day. In all the fights she’d fought and won victoriously, I’d never seen her so weathered. I knew then, all those months ago, she’d surrendered and couldn’t fight another war. And I’ll never forget, as she looked at me with those long, thick lashes and said “I’m ready to go. I just want you to be okay.” I remember feeling choked up, doing everything possible not to cry in front of her. So I smiled and said “I will be.”

I lied. Because we all know a world without Gram is not okay at all.

I wrote something before all this happened where a fictional character, kind of inspired by Gram, says “the heart breaks harder than bones,” and though losing her is the very essence of this sentiment, I also know what she’d do in this situation—she’d comfort everybody else. In fact, I looked back on her Facebook timeline, which was like losing her all over again, and found this post she’d put on my wall after a surgery I’d had. Though, I know at the time, she was sick, herself. She said:

“Candace, honey, I can imagine what you are going through . I feel so bad for you. If it helps a teeny little bit, I love you and am praying for some relief from pain.”

I strive to be that kind of person. To live the kind of life filled with so much love and so little regret. To give more than I receive to laugh more than I cry. Because those are the all the little things that were the sum of the greatest woman I’ve ever known.

After a lot of tears and scrolling, time froze and for a moment, it felt like she was still here. And then I finally reached the end of her Facebook timeline, and found the exact message I want to leave you with, from Gram, herself. From April 2011 she said:

“I miss my sister, Annie Lee, and I miss my beloved husband, Jim. He will be gone 21 yrs. April 26^th. Sometimes it’s like they went outside and will be back soon.”

So, friends and family, when the days feel hard, like right now, just tell yourself she went outside and will be back soon.

Thank you to all who've reached out. The truth is, no, I'm not okay. Not even a little. I feel her absence as much as I felt her life. This will take some time (like forever).

If you find it in your heart, please consider donating towards her funeral expenses directly to the funeral home. Being sick took everything from this generous woman and we struggled to give her a proper send-off. And even though we couldn't afford much, she deserved the world.

Now to get this m-effing book agented and sold so I can help pay off the funeral expenses and celebrate my Gram through the character I've based on her. I can hear her now: "I'm proud of you, babe. Be sweet." To which I would reply "no way," and she'd laugh...the rascal.

I love you, Gram.

<3

Candyland. OUT.

A Time For Reflection. I Mean Deflection + Misdirection.

2014-10-09T07:30:00.000-07:00

Life is m-effing weird.

Between THIS and THIS, I have to say, a few of you are pretty awesome and deserve extra Bert screams and a lot of you really suck ballz and should be handcuffed to Miley Cyrus for a week.

I could go on and on and on about how this chapter of my life is a really huge warning to anyone who realizes they are in a desperate state + conjures enough courage and humbleness to ask for help before there is no next time. Because in the end, it's a sonofabitch crap shoot. Maybe you'll read the words, heed the warnings, reach out to me, or others around you who are suffering in silence, too, or, maybe you'll read the words, pretend you didn't, and have a great life without a second thought about the points I'm trying to make here. I have found the latter to be more prevalent and that's really, really sad. Not just for me, but for any poor kid, teen, or adult going through the same emotions I know too well.

It's clear now why so many people drink themselves to death (or drugs or collect ceramic puppies or whatever pushes you into your dark place the fastest). It's the easiest way to get people to pay an-effing-ttention, and even then...crap shoot, remember? And just future ref, agents and others, I'm documenting everything about this mental health experiment gone awry because WHY NOT capitalize on my cray? <--I ain't no dummy.

One "professional" actually told me to Google coping skills, then took my money like a cheap hooker (but she wasn't cheap). On a Tuesday! In broad daylight! I can't help but laugh. Probably because I'm crazy now and if I don't laugh I'll collect more ceramic puppies! I could go on and on and on about this. I could. You know I could. But really, who cares? I've lost interest so you must be bored out of your mind! I'll go back to hiding away in my cold, dark house (that's the way I like it) where I'll post things like this instead:

You're welcome.

And just so you know, my cat hates long walks on the beach,Grumpy Cat, and all of humanity. Those are noodles, not worms.

<3

Candyland. OUT.

You Can't Run Away From You

2014-10-04T07:26:00.000-07:00

It's been 5 days since I lost myself.

Thanks to those of you who have checked in on me. I'm doing great! I "found" myself and figured out all the answers to dealing with everything. I can breathe! And it's all because I decided to just be happy! That's it! No drugs or intensive therapy needed. Just a smile and a skip in my step.

Lies.

I wish I could say that that but honestly, I'm more broken than 5 days ago. A well has opened up inside my heart and it's flooding, drowning me. I mentioned feeling like something snapped in my brain, something changed on Sunday. I was right. A trigger went off, opened decades of darkness, and Thursday, I was diagnosed with PTSD.

You're not going to know the details, the reasons, behind this diagnosis (because I want to sell my memoir, currently on sub, and I'd rather you buy that instead of reading this for free!). All that matters is I have put my soul on display here not only so I can the help I need, but so all of you can, too.

Do NOT be ashamed, friends.

October 5-11th is Mental Illness Awareness Week and National Depression Screening Day is Thursday, October 9th. If you're unsure as to whether you need help or not, if it's serious enough to go through all the motions, I beg of you to start with this anonymous online screening where, at the end, you'll be referred to a clinic offering full evaluations. With the messages I've received, there are so many of you hurting, ashamed, embarrassed, afraid, holding it all in. I am screaming at the top of my lungs for you to say something, to do something because what you're dealing with can be fixed. I tell you these things because I so desperately need to believe them for myself. Without hope, there is nothing.

Taking an online assessment won't solve all your problems but it's a start. In fact, just doing anything to take action is the hardest part. Trust me.

Insert reason number FIVE people don't reach out for help when they need it. If you're just joining us, please go back and read THIS POST before moving on.

A) You finally decide to ask for help and you go to someone who can't really help you. She tells you to take a bath when stressed, to eat when hungry, and to go to the hospital when feeling suicidal. You leave, still, with no coping skills to use immediately. You feel worse than before and consider throwing in the towel. Oh, and her next appointment isn't for 3 weeks. Good luck with that.

B) So, after sobbing for what feels like forever, you peel yourself off the floor, call FIVE other places, and they don't accept your insurance and/or the first appointment isn't for at least 2+ weeks. Oh, but if you're really that sad, you should what? GO TO THE HOSPITAL!

I. Can't. Even.

This is everything wrong with the mental health system in a nutshell. I have been through an exhausting war this week and the battle hasn't even begun. I have yet to actually tackle all these wounds that are paralyzing me in my daily life. And what about the next trigger? Will it be my last? As I listen to my children's laughter, this scares me to my core. I want to get better, to feel like I'm not being pulled under with no air left to breathe.

And somewhere in me, I know it's now or never.

To those of YOU suffering, if I can go through the humiliation of posting all of my experiences, put myself out there despite the shame and [mostly] fear of no one giving a rat's behind, YOU can reach out for help, too. Please take advantage of the screenings offered in your area in the next week, or sooner, and get the party started. I will be with you every step of the way. Not really. But somewhere inside of you. That's what he said (I'm still me).

Please share this with everyone you know. It might save a life.

Candyland. OUT.

Before I Fade Away: The Hardest, Most Important Thing I'll EVER Write (Pass it On, Save a Life)

2014-09-30T14:10:00.000-07:00

So, something happened.

You come here for balls-out honesty, right? Right. Remember the discussion on Robin Williams' suicide and how ridiculously difficult it is to reach out when in need? And then there are those times you muster everything in you to ask for said help and the response is underwhelming, to say the least?

That happened. To me.

Note: If you're reading this, and you have triggers such as talk of suicide, self-harm, or any depression-related field, please do yourself a favor and don't puff, just pass.

Did you go?

How about now?

Okay. Back to what I was saying. I'm a writer so I will write, I will tell my story, un-apologetically, no matter what, because without these words, I might fade away, disappear without a trace.

I want to leave a trace. That's why I write.

You, my lovelies, know I have a lifelong history of depression, where, in my postpartum phase, had to be peeled off the cold, dark, bathroom floor to be saved. Before that, though, I'd gone through most of my life in different therapies, on many medications, and even in clinical drug studies when I couldn't afford treatment. But, I was relentless in seeking the help I needed and have always been proactive, despite lack of money or resources, or most of all, humility. Mental illness runs in my family, so I knew I'd have to fight to be somewhat normal. And here I am. With my dukes up.

The funny thing about depression is, you never know when it's going to strike. It could be when one of your kids says something hateful, when you notice a close "friend" hasn't contacted you in months, or when you hear a song that reminds you of someone you will never see again. It could be when nothing happens. It could even be, and this happened yesterday, when you see a bag of doughnuts/donuts randomly left by a caring co-worker (without a clue as to how badly you needed the pick-me-up) and realize you're not worthy of Bill's. Not even close. Bill, himself would fling doughnut/donut grease at you and say "No Soup For You," which would be weird since they don't serve soup.

This time around the sad train, there wasn't one single trigger. I noticed I'd been feeling blue, a little unsure of my path in life, over the last couple months/years/decades. It has manifested since coming back from the ocean, the home of my heart, in Cocoa Beach, Florida. The waves are the only thing that calms my very loud mind for longer than a cemetery run or writing a chapter of a book.

(Side note: Someone please finance an oceanic retreat for my "mental health." I'm not even joking . No, really. Seriously. Money DOES buy happiness! KThnx.)

We all struggle with a little sadness here and there. We all have down days. Some of you can pick yourselves right back up and climb back on your shiny pedestal where you can look down and knock us little guys over the head with "smile, be happy," and "choose to be happy," and "silver linings," and...sorry, I stopped listening because I'm too focused on punching you in the ear or throat. Your choice.

This, my friends, is what I refer to as the "shit of the bull."

Not all of you will know this kind of pain, this level of blackened grief that consumes your every thought on the worst of days no matter how proactive you are. The kind that spits at you, says the things that make you cower like the pathetic, little biotch you are but pretend not to be in front of people. But some of you know. You really know. You know what it's like to sit on the floor, in the dark, with the pills, the razor, the [insert your vice here], the voices."You'll never heal those old wounds. You're not good enough. No one needs you. Everyone is better off without you. You're just a mistake. A waste of space."

My blue quickly progressed to a full-on sadness. Like crying at a funeral sadness. In a way, I kind of live in a funeral in my heart so I guess that's right. It came out of nowhere, as they say, though looking back, it wasn't nowhere. It was all these somewheres that had built up into nowhere. I'm passive aggressive which means I hold onto a lot of suppressed rage that I sometimes punch into a fluffy pillow or Justin Bieber cutout. Though, if I could get my hands on some plastic cups, I'd totes destroy them in a blind fury and have no regrets.

(It's cool. I'm a self-trained assassin.)

Then, just when I thought this whole wallow would pass, that I don't really need to jump back into the therapy/meds taxi, an incident happened that caused a short-circuit in my brain. I had a full-on panic attack while screaming a voice I didn't realize I had. It came from somewhere deep down where all this pain has been fermenting for too many years. I always know it's there, but something inside just snapped. It opened a portal to so much darkness, I even scared my cats. Meowza!

I should have known, should have recognized the signs, such as excessive straightening of hair products with the labels out, being acutely aware of the time, counting seconds with a fear of how short life is at all times, talking to myself more often about normal things, scratching the skin on my hands, rubbing my knuckles together or clawing at my chest or throat when stressed (which is just weird), sticking to the schedule/routine to the minute (if I don't have my yogurt between 8 p.m. and 8:25 p.m., life is ruined), etc. But this time, it's very different. A part of me died when that voice erupted, and in a strange way, a part of me came alive. The part that knows I'm not okay. But hopefully (and yes, there is still hope), I can be.

After Erik called off work the night prior to make sure I wouldn't hurt myself, I found whatever courage and humility I could gather, and with trembling hands, picked up the phone. I picked up that phone, and as my voice shook and tears fell, asked for help. I asked for help because I knew I was a danger to myself. And during this out-of-body experience where the intake nurse was asking my location [in case I hurt myself] and if there were any sharp objects nearby that should be removed, I realized this is part one of the exact reason people don't reach out.

It's terrifying to realize you're not in control of your mind. That you need real help.

When she was finished quizzing me, making sure I wasn't going to kill myself before I could be evaluated, I hung up the phone and asked for help from person number one.

Insert part two of why people don't reach out when the need is dire.

There's this thing that happens when you tell someone you need help. It goes in stages.

1) OMG! Of course I'll help. I'm so sorry. Here's have a hug. And my last dollar. Anything.

2) Wait...I don't know if I know how to help but I'll try/pretend and cross my fingers.

3) Yeah, I'm listening but could you speed this up? You've been crying for days and I have to go to work.

4) Obviously you can't admit yourself into an inpatient treatment facility because who would take care of the kids? And your job? And my job? And, uh, who will PAY for this?? Those things are more important than you losing your shit so how about you talk to me every night instead? It's way cheaper and easier to figure out on this end. So, hold said shit together until, well, forever, because there will never be a good time for you to go take care of that shit. Good luck, friend!

5) Life is fine. Let's just forget the whole thing happened and do the same things we've always done because it's easier. How was your day? Great! I didn't really want to know the answer! I hope that depression thing is going well for you. What's for dinner?

Back the truck up.

If someone I care about is hurting to the point of possibly being hospitalized, not only will I drop the mic and figure that shit out later, but sweet, baby Jesus, I will hold you, cry with you, throw on a romcom (with Zac Efron, maybe?) and dance around in my unders until life feels better.

I will not let go until it had been pounded it into your head: YOU ARE NOT ALONE, I AM HERE, WE WILL GET THE HELP YOU NEED. NO MATTER WHAT.

So, if you, like most people I know, feel clueless about *how* to help, here are a list of things to do when someone is crying out:

Listen if they are talking, talk if they want to listen. It's a fun game.
Hug if they are open to touch. If they are anything like me, they will fight the hug at the times they need it most. Don't stop trying.
If they open up to you, take care of that. You may not go about your day, pretending as if it didn't happen, and/or not say another word about it. This opening up thing is a scary game and most of us (ME), are tired of having feelings overlooked, stepped on, or disregarded.
Check on them. Often. You're not a babysitter but for now, yeah, you are. If someone is a threat to his or herself, you have to be there. Maybe not making them feel weird every time they go to the bathroom, but they need to know you will not abandon them when it gets tough.
Gather everyone up who loves this person and get them to "show up" in some form. A text, a card, in person. Whatever. Now is the time for extreme measures. Like an intervention. You are making a case for their life. Get everyone involved so this person DOES NOT FEEL ALONE.
Help them create a plan of attack. If immediate help is needed, call the facility for them, drive them there, stay with them until days bleed together. This is crisis management 101. If they seem relatively "stable," then sit down and show support in helping he/she figure out what the next move should be. Research doctors or Florida beaches or Ryan Gosling abs. Anything that shows you are not going anywhere, that you are going to fight this together.
Distraction is nice, but don't rely on it too heavily. The thing is, I can be distracted for short periods. Bouts of time at work, when the children laugh, when the cat chases her tail, but ultimately, the voices, the darkness is always there. It won't disappear just because I crack a smile when Beat Bobby Flay is on. When you're in this head space, it's hard to concentrate for long periods and really, anything can set you off into a tailspin of negativity. It's hard to come back from that, even if you think I'm "doing better."
Don't disappear. I can't stress this enough. Even if you physically leave, be their sponsor. Two of the biggest reasons people commit suicide are feeling hopeless and/or alone. Strip them of these feelings and there is nowhere to go but up. Sure, medication to balance the malfunctioning chemicals will help, too, but just by showing your unwavering support, you are proving to those voices in his/her head, that they are wrong. That life would be empty without them, not better.
Help them find an outlet. I don't always feel like vomiting my life story onto people but there are days it spills out (sorry, you guys). On the days I don't, (most of my life), I either run, write, or both if I'm feeling especially anxious or on edge. These two things have helped me grow as a person while keeping my thoughts re-focused to positive things. They both give me a rush and sense of accomplishment, which are always good things. The caveat here is that if I'm injured, running stresses me out more. If I'm working with a client to write something and they're not happy, it stresses me out more. Both things only work best when used for purely selfish reasons like writing MY OWN book or running for fun instead of time. Regardless, a re-focus is different than a distraction in that the re-focus will enrich the life for longer than a temporary re-direct, if that makes sense. Wow. I sound like an expert (I should by now). Go me.

My point is, just be there. Be present. You might even get off talking about Ryan Gosling (yes, please) and Eva Mendes (get outta here) having a baby.

Eww. So gross.

*****

It's now been a full 36 hours since I started this post. In the time since, I've been sitting, alone, in a movie theater, watching my life on this great, big screen.

My mom looks at me after work and says "Are you okay?"

I swallow a ball of prickled pain and grit my teeth because it's obvious. "No, I'm not okay."

In this movie theater, alone, she says nothing else to me, except goodbye. I watch this girl, me, who is so sad, and she is screaming at people to help her. But all that has changed since yesterday is George Clooney got married. I worked like a normal person, reached out to a couple people the best I could, sat beneath the cemetery tree with the wind chimes clanging above me, tried so hard to see the beauty in this day (this weather is my favorite), tried to play with my kids without feeling numb. But after I come home, make dinner, take care of kids, and everyone goes about the day like things are m-effing dandy, I'm still crouching over this laptop, typing this post, hiding in the bathroom where the voices thrive, sobbing, with a broken heart in my hands.

This, my friends, is what defeat looks like. It is more evident than ever that it's not just old wounds. It's life in general. If I were famous, I'd have checked myself into treatment for "exhaustion." So I can move on and be a whole person for once.To keep this SOB disease from taking your loved one, physically, emotionally, whatever, let me help you recognize the signs, please, because some people here ain't got no time for that.

Warning signs someone you love may need help:

THEY ASK FOR IT! (Hello? Can anyone hear me?)
He/she is looking into life insurance policies, making sure there's enough for the rest of you to live on "in case something ever happens."
Erratic behavior. Furiously cleaning, high highs and low lows, throwing things away, saying goodbye in strange ways, lingering in moments with a sadness that doesn't go away.
He/she is locking them self in the bathroom to self medicate.
He/she is driving recklessly.
He/she is self-medicating in plain sight.
He/she has lost the ability to see consequences past any harm or dire action and are only stuck in "the now."
He/she has lost hope.
He/she is sleeping too much or not at all, or tossing and turning.
Appetite changes.
Talk of what life would be like without him/her.
Feeling all alone, unable to perform daily functions, or on the flip side, is really good at masking the pain in an unbelievable way.
Unable to enjoy the present. Too focused on the sadness to be present.

This is a disease, a cancer of sorts, that eats away at people's livelihoods, their personalities, their souls. It is not a choice. They cannot just feel better if they "try." There are chemicals and things that don't flow the same ways as it does for "normal" people. It requires intervention in some way, be it medication, individual/group therapy, support, and really any-effing-thing else. Because you know what? It's not their fault. They just need the tools to cope (something I've never had).

And that brings us to reason number three people don't ask for help. The GD stigma.

I was afraid to tell anyone, to make the necessary phone call, to talk to anyone about this loss of shittage. Afraid of feeling even crazier because, hello? The mental health facility told me to come in, shoes without laces, no belts, no pens or markers, no scrunchies (people still wear these?), no balloons (party time!), no talcum powder (uh, I don't have a sac) or candles, NO COMPUTER. And the list really goes on and on because this really is serious business.

If I didn't feel crazy before, I sure as hell did after. And all that crazy just makes me want to fall into more darkness. See the pattern? The truth is, we do whatever we can to numb the pain, whatever that is. So if someone is screaming out to you, LISTEN TO THEM. People who are hurting don't want to paint this picture because it's messy and embarrassing and maybe we look like we have it together on the outside, at work, with "friends," but it doesn't mean we're okay. There are so many judgy people that just don't get it so we pretend for them, not us. But I can tell you beneath the exterior, there is another more complex layer of paint and in general, people don't want to die. We just want the pain gone. End of story.

I have two beautiful children I refuse to screw up, so really, I have no choice but to get better. Whatever that means in my current state of life. If I have to go away, if I have to disappear, I will do what I need to. To find my way.

Pain is a reminder we are alive.

But it shouldn't hurt so much, you want to end it all. If you're depressed or having suicidal thoughts and feel like you're all alone, I desperately urge you to find the courage and pick up that damn phone. I don't care who you call, honestly. Just call someone and tell them you need help. No, it's not going to be easy, I know this now more than ever. And no, your loved ones might not know how to help. And actually, they might even makes things worse (temporarily) because you'll realize you're not only crazy,

YOU'RE HUMAN.

And dammit, if there's an end point to your life now, or in the future, you can't say you didn't try.

Suicide Prevention Line: 1-800-273-TALK

If you need to talk to someone, and aren't ready to go pro, I am always an email or text away. If you call, I won't answer because talking on the phone is the worst. Facetime? You might as well shoot me. Unless you really need to. In which case, no one has your back more than me, boo.

Take it from someone who's lost her shit and is still losing it by the nanosecond: We're in this together. Promise.

<3

Candyland. OUT.

The Voices in My Head

2014-08-12T09:01:00.003-07:00

Life is hard.

In amidst of everything Robin Williams related, I feel compelled to say something. While the loss of any human, famous or not, inspired or not, hilarious or not, is, for lack of a better word, sad, the more painful point here isn't as obvious.

Having struggled with my own demons for many years, I know how dark the corner of your mind can feel. When you want to scream, but your voice is silent. When you want to reach, but your hands are frozen. Depression is a huge manipulator that will twist your reality into either
a) making you believe things are worse than they are, and/or
b) making others believe you've got it all together when you effing don't.

A smile doesn't mean life's grand. A joke doesn't equate to a happy existence. More times than not, it's the funny ones, the ones who sacrifice their pain to make others smile, who are hurting more than you could ever know.

Suicide is a complicated beast. It's not black and white. If you've been depressed, you know how quickly those voices in your head can escalate. All over the web are organizations and people telling you to reach out, to call the suicide hotline, to tell a friend, to talk about it, like my fav, TWLOHA.

But the truth is, we just don't.

It took me well into adulthood to be honest with myself about depression, self-harm, substance abuse, and suicidal tendencies, and even longer to start talking about them openly. In fact, it wasn't until my 1st pregnancy postpartum my OB/GYN put me on suicide watch. It started to really sink in there was a definitive dysfunction with the chemical make-up in my brain that was beyond my control, despite my best intentions and efforts to get "better." Things would ebb and flow in bi-polar-like states, all while mimicking a completely normal person in the outside world. Throw in two miscarriages that depleted me, mounting financial woes, and rocky relationships and you've got a recipe for suicide.

It has taken years, but I know now what makes me hurt, breaks me open, kills me inside. I'm more aware of who to befriend, who to open up to, what to show the world, and most importantly:

How to love myself in spite of myself.

However.

What's bothering me about this recent suicide isn't that his struggle was so real for so many years. It's that even if he had reached out through therapy, rehab, etc., it wasn't enough. When you're in that dark place, you don't have the state of mind to ask for help, and even if you did, who really cares enough to be a friend? Who will sit with you and keep watch, make sure you make it to the next day, the next week, be there for you until you can find your footing?

The problem is, sometimes you just never find it.

And sometimes enough is never enough which is why we turn to alternative vices to self-soothe. There are holes in our souls that, we aim to fill. And despite looking high and low, in every crack house and holy house in the world, sometimes the void doesn't lessen. It doesn't make Robin, or anyone else struggling a bad person, or an unholy person, or even a person doomed to an inevitable death.

It just makes him a real person, with a real pain, that couldn't be mended.

If you're feeling helpless, wondering how to help someone in your life, let me tell you a few things.
1) A hug helps. A really long one is even better. You know what? Just don't let go.
2) You can say "it's going to be okay," but we might not believe you. Don't stop.
3) Don't sugarcoat. Be honest. Tell them life is hard. It's glorious. It's painful. It's beautiful. The struggles are what makes them beautiful and the good times that much better.
4) Be a real friend. Let them open up to you and--get this--DON'T DISAPPEAR.
5) Shut your mouth and just listen. This isn't about you.
6) Don't write them off. The worst thing you can do, despite anything a person suffering says or does, is to give up on them. Don't ever let them feel like they're all alone in the world because that's what's already going on in their head.

If you or someone you know is going through something similar, please, email me at ANY TIME.

candace ganger [at] yahoo [dot] com

I don't have all the answers but I do have a crapload of life lived in these 32 years and even moreso, I know the struggle and I am here for you. Everyone needs someone. You don't want to reach out? I know it's hard. It's REALLY hard. Probably the hardest thing you'll ever do. But if you don't, the alternative is something I can't process. There IS hope. There IS another day.

<3
Candyland. OUT.

2014

2014-01-05T11:29:00.000-08:00

Way back when I started on the path to publication, before I knew I could somewhat string words together to make books and pretty-sounding things, my belief in "the process" was at its highest level. You know the one. It's full of hope (full of something), and dreams of what could be. You imagine your book on the front display at the bookstore and signing autographs and hanging out in coffee shops with the likes of Stephen King while you discuss plot twists and character flaws, all while laughing at all the "others" who won't make the full journey. Because it's hard and they'll quit. But this is about something else. This is about all the things no one will say. And why it sucks so hard.

If you'll remember waaaaaayyyy back, I wrote a book that was a winner of the Teenfire/Sourcebooks writing competition. Before that book, I didn't know who I was as a writer. Sure, I'd made some money from it, but nothing major. That contest gave me validation. That what I was doing was right. The announcement fell between a mile-high stack of rejections and my loss of faith in myself, so the timing couldn't have been better.

But it wasn't enough.

I revised the crap out of that book, re-queried, and sat on the silence. For months. One agent took a keen interest in my writing and unofficially helped me shape the book into something solid. It was happening. Someone FINALLY believed enough in my writing to take a real chance. She offered representation, sent pages and pages of notes along with the contract and gave me a reason to believe. In myself. In dreams. In good things happening to those who work hard enough.

After months of re-writing [what is still] my favorite love story of all time, I submitted all things book-ish to my agent. I loved saying that, too. MY AGENT. I said it every chance I got because I earned it. Just as all of you with agents say it, it made my tongue tingle with anticipation for what the future may hold.

And then she disappeared.

Literally. She left all her clients in the dust. No explanation. No apology. NOTHING. And that's exactly what I felt like when I had no response all those months of calling and emailing. NOTHING.

I stopped writing altogether because it hurt too much. Over a hundred rejections, multiple re-writes, and although most could agree they loved "my voice," only one agent took a chance on me. And she was gone.

It was nearly a year before I came across a freelance writing/editing website to make some money and gradually pick up the pieces of my writing heart. It was hard. I kind of hated it. I wanted, so badly, for my book to make it. That story and I had been through SO MUCH together. And even still, I *know* I have something there. It hasn't garnered the attention it has for no reason. But it doesn't matter...

Every now and then, I still re-query my baby. But the truth is, agents don't know what they want, regardless of what they say. Even when they think they do, and they have what they're asking for in their hands, it's not guaranteed they'll love it. I received a rejection SIX MONTHS after sending a requested full. It came out of nowhere. It doesn't matter that in the years' prior, I've written books for best-selling authors or that I'm a writer with a real voice. It doesn't matter that I would re-write until my fingers fall off to see my book on a shelf. I kept telling myself 'if I had time, I'd write one of the other books I have notebooks full of outlines for.'

That's what everyone says: Move on. Write another book. Keep going.

So while you're querying, stop and think about all the rules we're supposed to abide by and in 2014, decide to break them. Do things YOUR way. Don't let all the nonsense get into your head. Don't read about all the cool stuff Author A is doing. Focus on you. I swear. This is the year I write another book.

In my own name.

<3

Candyland. OUT.

This is where time stands still

2012-11-19T04:09:00.001-08:00

Friends. I come to you with a heavy heart.

If you remember, I came to you in January and poured my soul onto the web. I was ashamed and embarrassed and thought there's no way anyone could possibly care enough to hold out a helping hand.

I was so wrong.

Dozens of you stepped in. You made sure we had diapers, formula, and gas money to get back and forth from the doctor as Baby S went through a difficult time, medically. Some of you sent me a single dollar and told stories of how it was your last dollar but my story touched you and you couldn't turn away. Even being a writer, I still cannot find the right words for how grateful my family and I are for having so many angels out there. Without you, my husband, two small children and I would have drowned.

But now, it's my turn to pay it forward.

I came across a local woman's story, Jeanna Guffey, that has me completely heartbroken. This is about a mother (a friend of a friend) who, in all her braveness, chose to carry her 4th child to term even though she'd been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cervical cancer that put her at a 5-year survival rate WITH conventional chemo and radiation. This woman chose to forego those treatments and preserve her quality of life left with her beautiful babies and husband.

In the last few days, updates state the woman is now in hospice. With children ages 6, 4, 2 and a newborn born in July, her husband is currently off work and their insurance does NOT cover anything she's in need of. You can see where I just want to empty my wallet and send every single penny to help this family. This immediately makes me think of my darling Lenny Lee, whom I want to smother with hugs. In case you don't recall, here's his interview where, despite his ALL (acute lymphoblastic leukemia), he remains the strongest and most positive person I've ever known.

I've lost my biological father and a great uncle; Erik lost his grandmother. A friend's mother is in remission. Cancer is everywhere these days. It's frightening. In terms of Jeanna, I cannot imagine leaving my babies at such a young age and the pain this family carries goes beyond the financial. You reached out to help my family because you honestly are the greatest people I've ever "met." Please let this be just another way for you to show your awesomeness and consider donating or sending positive vibes or even thoughtful cards to this family who so desperately needs a giant hug.

Imagine if this were your sister.
Or your daughter.
Or your best friend.
Or YOU.

***

UPDATE: I wrote this yesterday morning...before I'd heard the news that Jeanna Guffey passed away. Just 4 months after giving birth to her 4th child, she is now with the angels. I have cried about this non-stop. I don't have to know her to put myself in her shoes. To think about leaving my children so soon. To think about how broken her dear husband is feeling right now with losing his wife and the mother of his children and now having to do it all...WITHOUT HER.

Click on THIS LINK to read more and to donate or get an address to send cards to. With Christmas approaching, let's help to make sure these 4 precious babies are enveloped with more than the grief of losing a mother. I want you to reach out, just as you did to me, and send this father and children any of the things below:

-Diapers
-Gift cards for formula, food and gas
-Money to help pay doctor bills and lost income
-Books for the children
-A card to say you care
-ANYTHING

Just reach out. Any way you can. Please. Help heal this family's heart. I would do a Candyland-style fundraiser if I had known about this sooner but now it's about showing these humans we are all human, offering compassion and a virtual hug.

To ANYONE who donates or sends anything between now and Dec. 1st, send me an email at candaceganger@yahoo.com with the subject titled "I DONATED"for a query, synopsis, or 1st chapter critique. It doesn't matter how busy I am. You help them, I help you.

As always, you rock more than you know and I *heart* you so much, I'd share my grilled cheese.
Even if you choose not to donate, please help spread the word.

<3

Candyland. OUT.

Eat cake and be freakin' happy

2012-10-20T03:22:00.000-07:00

Today is one of m favorite days of the year. Our little buddy, resident writer, blogger and super-kid, Lenny, is turning 13!!! Can you believe it? And what's even better is, I have a video that Blogger won't upload! STUPID BLOGGER!<--Argh.

So sorry, Len. I'll get it up here. Promise.

Until then, the TOP TEN REASONS I LOVE YOU:

-You're so much sweeter than sugar.

-You are more thoughtful than a million thinkers combined.

-You raise everyone up when they are low.

-You tell good jokes!

-You have a soft spot for animals.

-You're an amazing writer.

-You're more giving than the giviest giver that has ever been.

-You make me smile.

-You bring joy to everyone you hug (online and off).

-You are my inspiration, every minute of every day.

So much love from me, Erik, and your little sister and brother (Lilli + Sully).

Eat a lot of cake (like your little bro) for me since I have to watch my weight. BOOO!

<3 <3 <3

CandylandlovesLenny. OUT.

Recapture YOUR Dream. Or another piece of chocolate. Either way.

2012-09-18T04:25:00.004-07:00

Sup, playas?

I love a good book dream that comes true. Just like my girl, Justine, and her book Recaptured Dreams. Today is her book's birthday! Yay! Happy birthday, book!

Stop by her blog and help her blow (get your mind out of the gutter) out her candles. Tell her Candyland sent you and you'll get absolutely nothing except the feeling of being cooler by association. To her, not me. Confused? As am I. Pretty often. I digress.

BLURB: Ten years, the Atlantic Ocean, and several rungs in society have kept Xavier Cain from having Sophia Montel. Now twenty-seven, he’s spent his entire adult life building a fashion empire that could finally prove his worth to her family. When fate reunites him with Sophia at London’s premiere fashion show, one problem lodges in Xavier’s path: Sophia doesn’t remember him.

The only obstacle that has kept Sophia from Xavier is a horrific car crash that erased her memory at seventeen. She’s spent the last ten years fighting to reclaim a sliver of her past that her mother refuses to help her remember. When Sophia meets Xavier at the London show, however, all her fantasies come to life in one night of passion. Discovering he is the missing link, she is determined to find all the pieces to their love story and her memory.

Xavier wants forever. Sophia wants her memory. If they take this chance, they’ll have to start over. How far are they willing to go get what they want? And when the past catches up to them, can they handle the truths it has hidden?

Contact Justine by email: dell.justine@gmail.com

Order a copy today on Amazon.
Order a copy at Barnes and Noble.
Recaptured Dreams on Goodreads.
Recaptured Dreams on Facebook.
Friend me on Facebook
Check out her Blog.
Find her on Twitter.
Find Recaptured Dreams on Goodreads Profile

And don't forget to check out Omnific Publishing. Romance ... without the rules.

Go support Justine and buy this book! Or, comment for your chance to win a copy!

<3

Candyland. OUT.

5 Things no one tells you about a paid rub-down...

2012-07-23T10:53:00.000-07:00

Yes.

Oh, hi.

It's hard to believe people actually pay to have a stranger give them a massage. Especially when you have a spouse or partner or magical unicorn. But once upon a lifetime, I bought a Groupon for a couple's massage. I thought it'd be a fun way to spend the morning and with all EG and I have been working, I was looking forward to relieving some stress.

Um, no.

I've had massages before but each time, much like childbirth, I forget how completely awkward it is. Then as soon as I leave I'm all "I want another one!"

Things no one tells you about being rubbed down:

*They're going to get oil in your hair. And they're going to really work it into your scalp. Sure, it feels good at the time, but when you leave, you look like you were electrocuted. It's not cute. And now you smell like you've been at an orgy all morning.

*They're going to pretend you'll be covered while they work on certain areas. You won't be. All your business will be out. I hope you cleaned up.

*There will be a moment where OOPS WAS THAT A NAIL TOO CLOSE TO MY PARTS? Yes. Yes it was. Don't flinch. It will just make it that more uncomfortable.

*You will be the most stressed out you've ever been in your life. You won't relax. You'll be worried about looking relaxed, but not too relaxed. You don't what the lady (or man) to think it's putting you in the mood. Because that's the last thing on your oily-haired mind.

*Your hand will get caught in the lady's necklace and when she goes to gently remove it (you are face down and can't see), she will hold your hand for a weird amount of time. She may squeeze it. Don't squeeze back. You're not dating now.

Overall, it was "relaxing." It's in quotes because that's what I'm supposed to say. EG liked it, and I guess that was the whole point since it was my gift to him (that he loved SO MUCH he forgot about it until it was nearly expired).

I'm never getting one again (I said this about kids after offspring #1).Well, maybe (I said this, too).

Have you ever paid for a stranger to make you feel awkward?

Candyland. OUT.

Random: 10 Business/Productivity Tools You Should Know About RIGHT NOW

2012-06-19T06:01:00.000-07:00

Hey, friends. Winners from the edit contest have been notified. On another random note, here are some links for those of you who are self-employed (as I am) or looking to be. Also: Baby S is teething. No antidote. Just a fact. Happy Tuesday.

1. Bitrix24.com - Bitrix24 is a new startup that offers free sales/collaboration/productivity to small businesses. If your company has fewer that 12 employees, you get free CRM, free project manager, free file sharing/document manager, free calendar and other free goodies.

2. GotFreeFax.com - As the name implies, GotFreeTax is a free online faxing service, which lets you fax 3 pages for free to any fax number in US or Canada.

3. RememberTheMilk.com - Free To-Do list, iPhone and Android support.

4. WaveAccounting.com - This online accounting SaaS that offers unlimited invoices and expense tracking as part of free plan for small businesses.

5. JetRadar.com - This free low airfare meta searchengine searches through 700+ airlines to find best deals normally available through direct purchase on airline sites only (to combat price comarison services, airlines oftentimes reserve lowest prices only to own websites). Very handy if your business requires frequent travel.

6. PRLog.com - Free press-release distribution service.

7. Weebly.Com - Free website creator. Does not require any technical experties.

8. PickyDomains.Com - This one isn't free, but rather risk-free (naming service). If you need a cool domain name, product name or slogan, PickyDomains charges you ($50), but only if you decide to use one of their suggestions. If you don't like anything, you don't pay anything, hence risk-free.

9. Join.Me - Join.Me is a cool free webcast/webconference service that allows you to do free webcasting for 4 people.

10. Kolab.org - Kolab is free open source e-mail/workplace collaboration plaform. It's a little ugly and takes some technical expretise, but hey - free is free.

Candyland. OUT.

Make another joke while they hang another rope

2012-03-16T02:46:00.000-07:00

Some alarming news:

Did you know 1 in 7 Students in Grades K-12 is either a bully or a victim of bullying?

I'm sorry but ONE IN SEVEN. And it starts in KINDERGARTEN. Not only is it starting crazy young, but the consequences have also become more terrible by the second. Forget the days of being stuffed into lockers and hung on the flagpole by your underwear. Some kids are mean. Really mean. Other kids are committing suicide. Shooting up schools. Cutting, drinking, drugging, numbing the pain. Dropping out of school. They're having their self-esteem ripped from their chests and buried in the dirt.

Kids. My God. KIDS.

I have a kid. Two, actually, though only one is old enough to wipe her own butt. It's only been lately she, too, has had problems with a certain clique that makes her cry, pushes her down, makes her feel less than beautiful. On some days, that is. Other days, they're all best friends. However harmless, I see the pain in those big eyes and I know what I have to do: Protect her. Always. Until the Day I die.

And I know I'm not alone.

Whether it's your child or not, you hear these stories and your heart breaks. If it doesn't, you're made of stone or jaded by all the violence. It's not okay, though.

IT'S NOT OKAY.

Monday I'll be revealing what you can do to make it stop. Because instead of division, we need unity. Instead of hate, we need love, or at the very least, tolerance and acceptance. It may start with the bullies, but it ends with us.

You can read more about bullying from my friends:

Talli Roland
LM Preston
Donna Martin
Sheri Larsen
Jonathon Arntson
Nicole Zoltack
Jessica Bell
Dawn Ius
PK Hrezo

Until Monday, read, listen, watch, think.

"Never forget the fragility of adolescence..."

-Bullying drove 8th-grader to suicide
-10-year-old girl commits suicide because of bullying
-Jarod's Story
-Ryan's Story

Candyland. OUT.

Feel Me Up Friday: If you need me, I'll be in the corner with cake

2012-02-03T08:31:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday. Hooray. Yes, that was sarcasm. Although, it's been awhile since I've dished. You're welcome.

I've had a hard time accepting the turn of tide. This last decade was, by far, the best of my life, despite the ups and downs. It seems I spent ages 20 and 21 flailing through a soul-sucking relationship. We were too young. We were too stubborn. We were too [insert everything bad]. Around 22, we parted, as friends, and I focused more on my music (i.e., this is when the Bert incident was nearing).

This is when I found myself. This is also, the year someone important to me lost the cancer battle. This is also the year my heart was given and broken, given and broken and finally, taken by the one who I'll spend the rest of my life with. 2004 was a big year.

In the 8 years since, I've married my love, lost 2 babies, had 2 more, lost a best friend, found a long lost grandmother, moved about 7 times, became a writer, got an agent, lost and agent, had a band, lost a band and so much more. The last ten years have taught me how to be strong. How to fight. I want to welcome this day, my 30th birthday, with open arms. But something's holding me back.

Like, the past.

Some say never look back but I say, the past has made me who I am. And I'm grateful for every second of it. To say goodbye to the time I was given, that got me where I am, is bittersweet. I want to say I've got it all figured out. I'm going to sell a book this year. Buy a house. Be the best me I can be. But the future is a big unknown. And I think that's why I'm scared to embrace this day.

To those of you still searching, still looking for answers, still wondering how to leave your mark (so that people actually, you know, REMEMBER you), I'm right there with you.

Also, so is this guy.

Happy Friday.

CandylandForever29. OUT.

Ice skating is what the devil does when Hell gets too hot

2011-12-07T10:18:00.001-08:00

Let me be clear: A foot was never meant to stand on a single blade for the sole purpose of skimming across a solid, icy surface. Actually, when I say it like that, it's even more dumb aloud. So that's why the hubs, offspring #1 and I went ice skating downtown last weekend. It sounded like a GREAT idea.

"Hey, child. Look out the window. It's raining a wintry mist that freezes mid-air. It has to be too cold to do anything out there. Soooo...let's get our coats and go ice skating."

Granted, my daughter and husband loved it. She held onto the side railing (as did I) with a smile on her face (I did not) while he spun across the glistening sheet of ice like a snow angel. I know this may come as a shock, but I am not graceful. I was not born with grace. It's not a trait that runs in the family. And any grace I might have had was lost in the childbirth process. It was all downhill from there. I knew this for sure once the hubs let go of my arm and left me in a place with no rail to guide me.

And I fell on my keester.

Hard.

And you know that feeling when you think everyone around you is laughing--at you? That totally happened. When you think of someone falling in a movie, you imagine them having the time of their lives. You know, like on a cute, first date or some stupid shizz.

This was not the way it happened for us. It was more like I looked up, because a strange man asked if I was okay, while my dear husband and child skated away, never having witnessed the fall at all. That was the moment I realized my dream of making it into the Olympics would probably have to wait.
As for ice skating...I will not let you win. I won't. I won't.

Actually, I probably will.

Until the next [mis]adventure...

What's the one holiday activity/event that mocks and belittles you?

CandylandHoHoHo. OUT.

Photo cred via

Your house is your home is your dumpster fire

2011-10-31T04:11:00.000-07:00

So...

I'm totally still sporting maternity pants because THEY'RE SO ~~FLUFFY~~ stretchy. In fact, because of the pregnancy water loss (a total of 27.5 lbs in 3 weeks), they make me feel like a size 0 (though I have 30 lbs of real weight to drop...boooo). Yeah, it's a little narcissistic, but every time I squeeze my butter into a smaller tub[of normal people pants], I end up crying over ice cream while listening to 90's cryfest songs.

Something by Sarah McLachlan, I'm sure (oh, summer of 1998, you and Zach [you know who] kill me).

Don't even get me started on the higher half of my hot bod. I'm stuck wearing all the hubs's tees. Even offspring #1 is tired of seeing that big, black Chicago tourist tee with baby pieces all over it. No one tells you the horror you're left with AFTER a baby. Pregnancy is gross. Like "yeah I'm gassy, and my hands look like Walter Cronkite and I taste metal in my mouth for no reason..."

But the aftermath is worse.

OMG.

What is this hanging from my stomach? Why do I have this weird rash? Am I dying (hair falling out)? Is it me, or is that coffee commercial the saddest thing you've ever seen? What day is it? Who's Matt Brady?

GASP!

The good news is, I can see my toes again. The bad news is, they're sick. Not sick the way the hubs would use it (as in "that snowboard dude I'm totally friend-crushing on is so sick"), but sick as in they make me want to projectile vomit. It's funny how things that seem important, like taking care of one's self, don't matter at all when you've got someone in utero. Then this little person comes out and you're left with a messy, empty house the last tenant didn't take care of so you think about filing a lawsuit to pay for damages (tummy tuck, tap repair (i.e.boobies), wax stripping (what?), etc) but then you realize the former tenant can't pay and it'd come out of your wallet until he's [legally] able to pull from his strip club ones to help a sister (mother) out.

So, you forfeit, and throw on that black Chicago tee with your stretchy pants and grab another bowl of ice cream because this house needs condemned.

Dear Bert I'm so tired. And I've had too much coffee. Or not enough. And I wonder how many people it would take to link arms and reach all the way around the world. And how does Santa get to everyone's houses in just one night? Hrmmm...

Tell me friends, what's the singles most indulgent renovation you do to make yourself feel like a brand new house?

CandylandCandylandCandyland<---Say it three times and I'll appear in your bathroom behind you...probably cleaning it.

OUT.