So, I found myself in a rather precarious situation.
One
day, recently, I had nothing to do. Not a thing. Even the house was relatively
clean, and the laundry put away. There was nothing more I could do for the
garden, which was on its way to the summer desert-char season, where all things
green are reduced to sticks and straw. I could find no new reporters, bloggers,
reviewers, or book clubs to pitch my novel to. There was nothing to edit or
update. No e-mails to return or query letters to revise. And, gosh, with school
out for the summer, there were no teenagers to supervise, unless you count my
youngest son, who’s twenty and thinks he’s all grown up and doesn’t need my
guidance anymore.
It
was…quite frankly…frightening.
I know
what you’re thinking. In the inimitable words of Mrs. Blue, when she first
faces Forrest from her porch, “What are you crazy or just plain stupid?”
Now, as
a teacher, I don’t use the word stupid. Five letters, yes, but, in the
classroom, it’s lumped in with the dastardly four-letter variety. Still, when I
tried to explain the cause of my anxiety to a friend, he looked at me like I’d
lost my mind. Stupid, indeed.
I went
online and, because I had nothing else to do, I took what was billed as the 7
Minute Anxiety Test. I agreed or disagreed with all sorts of statements on a
link called the Calm Clinic: I have sweaty or cold, clammy hands. I
am afraid of crowds, being left alone, the dark, strangers, or traffic. I am
able to relax.
That
last one gave me pause. Even when I go on vacation, it takes me a few days to
stop searching for a purpose, to find that sweet spot where I can take a nap or
crack a mindless novel in the middle of the afternoon without guilt. The
test results showed that I’d scored a 25 out of 100 on the Anxiety Scale:
Apparently, my case was nothing more than mild.
Still,
why the trepidation when I’m not under pressure? I put on my Sherlock
deerstalker cap and, since I had nothing else to do, I gave it a good think.
I ruminated on the fact that I have spent perhaps an inordinate amount of
time being insanely busy. Sometimes, I flash back to my newsroom days, where
the frantic preparation for the next show could, at any moment, be wrenched in
a new direction, necessitating the tossing of the previous plan moments before
going live on the air. (I still have nightmares about not being prepared when
the red camera light blinks on.)
When I
first became a teacher, my panic at those relatively short TV segments seemed
silly when faced with the proposition of five hours each day staring down
children in the classroom, who glared back, waiting. I felt like an animal in
the zoo. I used to be a server in a restaurant in Washington, D.C. where very
busy people wanted their food “Right now!” As a sports official, decisions must
be instantaneous. There’s no, “Let me think about this and get back to you,”
allowed when it’s time to throw a flag or keep it neatly tucked in your belt.
And then, I paused. Everyone is busy. Our world dictates that we run from one responsibility to another with crushing regularity. Busy defines us. And, clearly, I’m not the only one who feels a bit queasy when things slow down. More than half of Americans – 55% – responding to an on-line survey admitted to leaving vacation time unused in 2015, which totaled 658 million days.
Perhaps
we’re just out of practice in regard to relaxing. Like anything else, one must
train to become adept at a skill. One can’t just jump in without extensive
repetition and expect to excel. So, I’ll solve my free-time anxiety problem by
devising a plan, creating coherent steps in order to discern the proper route
to relaxation, and then…
You know, all this thinking is making me sleepy. Maybe, I’ll take a nap and ponder the problem later.
Here is a brief peek at Anne's Historical Fiction novel base on a real soldier.Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to the Graves Registration Service where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?
Praise for Your Forgotten Sons
“Although a defty crafted work of original fiction, “Your Forgotten Sons” by Anne Montgomery is inspired by a true story. An original and inherently interesting read from start to finish, “Your Forgotten Sons” will prove to be an immediate and enduringly appreciated pick.” Midwest Book Review
“This was a quick, riveting read that really challenged me to think differently about our servicemen and women, especially those who take on the jobs that don’t get heroically depicted in the media or news…I really highly recommend this book to anyone that is looking for a different take on American history. I left it with a newfound appreciation for the unsung heroes.” Bekah C NetGalley
“This is the truth. It’s gritty and painful and bittersweet – and true. When you think you’ve read every perspective of WWII, along comes Bud to break your heart.” Bridgett Siter Former Military Reporter
“Anne Montgomery writes a strong story and I was hooked from the first page. It had a great concept and I enjoyed that this was inspired by a true story…It was written perfectly and I was invested in the story. Anne Montgomery has a great writing style and left me wanting to read more.” – Kathryn McLeer NetGalley
Available at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Books, and Kobo
