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Artsy Fartsy Photos: Nashville Edition

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I am still dealing with a Utopia hangover, so I will leave these photos here for you to enjoy.

Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to get the full update on my events, before AND after they happen.

And also a reminder that I have a Goodreads giveaway going for Miley’s story, Be Careful What You Wish For. You don’t want to miss out on that, and it ends on Wednesday!

Without further ado, photos for you…

They don’t call the Ryman the mother church of country music for nothing.

The back alley of the Ryman that leads to Tootsie’s. Apparently Hank Williams used to use this path all the time to go get crocked. So much history…

Looking out from history to the modern day hustle and bustle.

Me touching Minnie’s hat. They don’t open the glass display case for just anyone…

Selfie with Little Jimmy Dickens. Boy, was he hot.

OMG, is that the CMT building??? Do I REALLY have to drive 9 hours back to Michigan now?

From the broken mind of Jennifer Friess, the joining of hearts & souls…
NOW AVAILABLE! Troll Gurl and the Cursed Kingdom

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COVER REVEAL: Angry Macey

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This is kind of a spontaneous cover reveal. I am headed to Utopia in just over a day and I am feeling very energized. I am very excited about this upcoming project that I have been working on for months. It is the work closest to my heart. (Hey, I see you there, judging me. Stop that!) It should be out this fall. No presale yet, but I am getting very close to that and will be sure to let you know.

Without further ado, here is the cover for Angry Macey:

The forthcoming Angry Macey by Jennifer Friess

Everyone feels like they are guided at some point in their lives. But what if you were guided to do something terrible? What if you were too angry to even care about the carnage you were about to inflict?

Meet Macey.

Mid-life crisis. Mental breakdown. Payback. Revenge.

This book has an edgier cover, which is in part due to the subject matter, but also I used a new cover designer. She is Creative Paramita and her website is www.creativeparamita.com. Check her out for all your cover needs!

Oh, and I have another surprise for you. This is what I spent today working on instead of writing. I think it was well worth it ;-D

NOTE: None of these three colors is natural.

From the broken mind of Jennifer Friess, the joining of hearts & souls…
NOW AVAILABLE! Troll Gurl and the Cursed Kingdom

Railfanning

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I first discovered this word a year ago, but I have actually been doing it all my life. It is kind of like when I discovered the word shipper.

All my life whenever I am near railroad tracks I hope that a train will come along so that I can watch it go by. It seldom happens. Unless you work for the railroad, you don’t have anyway to know when a train will arrive. I love to listen to the cars as they thunder by, their couplings creaking with each variance in the track. I was fortunate enough to live near railroad tracks for half my life. But it was not a busy track.

This, my friends, is not a problem in Fostoria, Ohio. It is known as the Iron Triangle because so many trains (around 200 per day, I have been told) travel through the city. Fostoria has built a great rail park within the triangle where you can just sit and watch the trains go by. I was really impressed with the facility. There was a small roof for shade/rain protection, speakers that played the latest scanner communications, and a very well-kept bathroom. We must have seen about ten trains pass by in the few hours we were there.

Here is a new video I uploaded on my YouTube channel of a Norfolk Southern double-header passing by.

If steam engines (and possibly ones from the island of Sodor) are more your thing, watch this video of mine that already has over 2,900 views. And please like or subscribe or whatever it is people do over there on the ‘Tube. I am old. I can’t keep up with the young whippersnappers anymore.

From the broken mind of Jennifer Friess, the joining of hearts & souls…
NOW AVAILABLE! Troll Gurl and the Cursed Kingdom

F*ck Field Day

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Thousands of kids across the country are currently, or have just finished, participating in a “Field Day” of games and displays of athletic prowess. Every school has a different name for it. You know of which I speak.

I feel so sorry for them.

Like the odd duck that I am, I always dreaded Field Day.

I was a kid who rarely talked to anyone if it wasn’t necessary, something I would realize three decades later was generalized anxiety disorder. Even back when I was a tiny third grader, I got up the nerve to try and talk my gym teacher out of making me participate in Field Day.

It didn’t work.

She assured me she would put me into something easy. The 50 yard dash, she said. I had no idea how long that was, but any distance I have to run is too long.

It was a chilly morning, so I wore my grey hooded sweatshirt. I ran as fast as I could. I came in fourth. That might not sound bad, but there were only four kids in the race. Total.

They gave me a ribbon to remember my shame. (It is still in my house somewhere. I think my young son ran off with it.)

I just talked to my mom on the phone, in 2017, and she was apparently there in the stands. (I don’t remember that, but I don’t remember a lot of things.) She remembers that there were other mothers sitting in front of her who watched my performance and felt bad that I was so far behind the other kids.

Great boost of confidence there, mother. I know I am forty-one years old now, but that doesn’t really help the old self-esteem any.

I guess this is where LOVE YOURSELF would come in handy.

If I remember right, I didn’t even know that the 50 yard dash was an event you ran. It could have been a long jump for all I knew. I probably had to wait for the other kids to start before I even knew where the finish line was. (It is a good story. I think I will stick to it.)

Someone took a picture of the racers standing behind big signs that showed where each of us placed. They took the picture from my end. The losing end.

They put that picture of me behind the giant four, with my sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, my hair escaping my ponytail, and looking winded, in the glass display case in the main hallway at school the next year.

And the year after.

And so on.

I was a week from graduating high school, happened to be walking through the elementary building, and there I was, in that picture, STILL BEHIND THE DAMN FOUR!

I believe to this day they are probably still putting up the same picture of me from June 1985. Boy, I bet my clothes look really dated now.

I Googled “Field Day 1983” and half expected my picture to pop up. So far, it hasn’t.

Even more amazing, that is the ONLY YEAR I ever participated in Field Day. Maybe that is why they thought it was momentous enough to display year after year.

At my school, when I was there, only third, fourth, and fifth graders competed in Field Day. It was the 80s. All the kids drank Kool-Aid and Sunny Delight and watched copious amounts of television. There wasn’t a drive for everyone to exercise. Society was busy telling us to Say No to drugs.

I didn’t avoid Field Day in fourth grade on purpose. I had the pox. (Chicken, not small.) I missed the last two weeks of school. I had a grumpy teacher all that year who seemed very tired and done with teaching. What kind of reward did I get for putting up with her all year? I had to miss her retirement party 😦  Although cupcakes and treats were left inside my desk for when I returned. (Eesh, talk about unsafe food storage conditions!)

The next year I did avoid Field day on purpose. My mom took me to the lake. She is a good mom. I thought she was just being kind to her woefully unathletic daughter for all these years. (It is genetic, after all.) But now that she told me that story about the mothers in the stands, maybe SHE just didn’t want to have to feel bad for me again.

And if the goal for the day is exercise, then the school should be satisfied. I am sure I got way more exercise at the lake than I ever would have running a race for two minutes and feeling anxious the rest of the day.

Middle school had many, many (too many to mention) hells of its own, such as showering after gym class and dissecting frogs and all those pubescent hormones trapped inside a building with gray concrete walls and no windows all day, every day. But at least I got to leave the hell that was Field Day back at the elementary.

Remember, if you see me running fast, then either there is an escaped dog in front of me or a zombie behind me.

Dog chasing was once a regular hobby of mine. Not by choice, mind you.

From the broken mind of Jennifer Friess, the joining of hearts & souls…
NOW AVAILABLE! Troll Gurl and the Cursed Kingdom

THANK YOU VETERANS!

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Those who know me know that Memorial Day is my favorite holiday. And now you know too!

To find out my reasons why, click here: https://imnotstalkingyou.com/2011/05/03/mothers-day-is-a-fake-holiday/

Thank you to all the brave men and women who have served their country in the military and continue to do so today. Thank you also to those who have passed on, whether it be on the battlefield or in their own kitchens.

From the bottom of my heart…THANK YOU.

Proudly displayed all year long.

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