Interviews & Book Reviews
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Helping
writers & authors with self-publishing decisions
Professional
ghostwriting, editing, and indexing services
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Joan is
featured in a . . . BookSurge
University - Seminar Archives January 2005 |
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Joan is interviewed by Book Lovers Haven on the subjects of Publishing and Corporate Writing . . .
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Joan wrote this article published in ForeWord on experiences in New York City on 9/11/01 . . . Foreword this Week is a weekly email news service covering independent publishing of interest to booksellers, librarians, and other trade professionals. I was contacted by ForeWord's editor, who asked if she could include my article in ForeWord's special feature on publishing and books about Sept. 11, 2001. Please see #2 below. FOREWORD THIS WEEK 9.11.02 WAKE UP CALL My sister, Janice Phelps, and I are founders and co-owners of a mid-size book publishing company, Lucky Press (www.luckypress.com). Last year, we planned a trip to New York City for Sept. 9-11 for two purposes: to be interviewed by "Publishers Weekly," (set for the afternoon of Sept. 11), and to surprise my nephew with tickets to see the Michael Jackson 30th anniversary concert in Madison Square Garden the evening of Sept. 10. My nephew, Bryce, is seriously disabled, takes a multitude of medications, and is hearing impaired. We were able to speak with a helpful man in the ticket office at Madison Square Garden, who arranged for us to sit in the "signing" section, where we had seats overlooking the concert stage. The three of us drove to New York City on Sept. 9, and entered Manhattan through the Lincoln Tunnel. As we waited for traffic, Bryce's face became animated as he saw "The Most Beautiful Lady in the World," the Statue of Liberty, and the "awesome" Trade Center twin towers. Sunday evening, the three of us walked from our hotel on W 55th St. to Times Square and enjoyed the lights, people, food, and shops. On Monday, Sept. 10, we surprised Bryce with the news about the Michael Jackson concert. Later, we cheered Usher and Gladys Knight, were awestruck with Luther Vandross, amazed at the talents - old and young - on the stage, and saw Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5 perform the first song they had done on The Ed Sullivan Show years ago. We went to bed Monday night with fantastic images of the welcoming, alive, friendly, diverse, bustling city, and the plan for Janice to take Bryce on the subway to the observation deck on WTC 2 on Tuesday morning, Sept. 11, to see his most beautiful lady. The three of us are early risers, but we had decided not to set alarm clocks for the morning of Sept. 11, and to take our time to shower, dress, and make our way to the Trade Center to avoid morning rush-hour traffic. At 8:40 a.m., Janice was blow-drying her hair in the bathroom, and I clicked on the remote to turn on the local news on TV. The scenes emerged, not on video, in another country or another city, but a couple of miles down the street. Janice and I were stunned. We are blessed with having calm composures in emergencies, and our thoughts turned to making plans based on information we had, and didn't have: Will there be more explosions? Will we be confined to the island? Can we get our car out of the parking garage? Will food and water be available? Can we stay in the hotel another night, if needed? Are other locations affected? Will Bryce's supply of medications last? Can we open the window? Can we go outside? Will TV stations lose their signals? Will our cell phones work? Will the hotel phones be operable? Will our family and friends be worried? Are we in physical danger? We heard the booms as the buildings fell, we heard sirens, but there were no vehicles on the normally busy street outside our hotel window. We walked to the intersection - no cabs, no one accessing the subway, no busses. The only people outside were tourists, shop workers on the way to open their businesses, and commuters normally occupying the office buildings around us who walked outside, stunned, in disbelief. By mid-afternoon, we did see busses going north, but our hopes were doused when we saw that the riders were bandaged and bleeding passengers on their way to hospitals. We smelled the awful aroma of burning rubber, paper, fuel, electronics, people. After an evening of frantically calling friends and family on our cell phones, we tried to sleep the night of Sept. 11. People working at our hotel, the Gorham, were amazing. We were asked many times if we were okay, if we needed fresh towels, if we would like coffee and juice, if we needed to have our linens changed. All by staff people who were staying overnight at their place of work because they couldn't get home to their families and friends. The next morning, we were able to retrieve our car from the parking garage and leave the city. As we drove up the West End Highway, we were waved on by law enforcement people who had profoundly sad faces and an intensity to help others. As we moved over the George Washington Bridge, we passed mile after mile of cars sitting, waiting to drive the opposite direction, into the city, to their jobs, homes, families, the unknown. There are several ways the Sept. 11 affected my life. I would summarize them by saying that Sept. 11 gave me a focused sense of what is important in my life; however, more so, what is of no importance. I had thought that my former profession as a corporate public relations manager was important; that I could make a difference in how a large, Fortune 500 company communicated to employees and the community; that I could send relevant, logical, truthful messages that I could help advance understanding. My thoughts changed completely on this: I realized the true meaning of "spin-doctor," and I had become one. In order to receive favorable job reviews, advancements and raises, I had to fit the mold. I had thought that increased income meant increased freedoms - that my 401(k) investments would provide me with the funds necessary to finance a long retirement. I've since seen market drops mean that I may have to consider compromising my ethics and standards of what is right and true and apply for a job in corporate America. I'm over 50 and over-qualified and over-pragmatic; I don't think I'll be successful, nor would I want to be. I had thought that friends were people I saw often and socialized with. My views on this changed, too. Friendship became indescribable and indefinable; it is now more intuitive and flowing. I had thought that I, a robustly healthy person, was safe from dying for at least the next 20-30 years. I now know the incredibly fine line we humans stride between health, happiness, prosperity, security and comfort. and their counterparts. Lifelong mental and physical disabilities, for anyone, are only one car accident, one fall, or one genetic disturbance away. The last cell phone conversation with a loved one can take place with one of us being in a dark smoky, fiery, crumbling skyscraper, or airplane. The person sitting beside us in any public place can be the one who saves our life, or who takes it. And, anyone can come home from a weekend out of town with her sister and unpack a suitcase containing clothes she has to burn because they retain the odor of a New York stranger's burning flesh. -Joan E. Phelps, Book Marketing, Communication & Public Relations Consultant www.joanphelps.com |
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Joan has written book reviews for . . . ForeWord |
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Midwest Book Review wrote a review of "Wham! Bam! Publishing" . . .
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