The End is Near (and we deserve it). . . . Bride Answers Text Message at Own Wedding

This one speaks for itself. . . .

I would have loved to have seen the groom’s reaction.

Blogs and Articles in No Particular Order

Kristen Lamb has been busy cruising in her van, offering best selling authors candy again. This week, she abducted the awesome James Scott Bell to talk with him about his new zombie legal thriller, Pay Me In Flesh, written from the point of view of Mallory Caine, the zombie. How’s that for novel? (Pun intended.) Check it out. Pay Me In Flesh–Interview with Nationally Best-Selling Author James Scott Bell writing as K. Bennett.

Intelligent, humorous post about a dead serious topic from Ellie Ann. Why Meth Dealers are the Best Boyfriends

Donna Newton had a chat with New York Times Best Selling Author Bob Mayer, and she didn’t even have to kidnap him. Find out how insightful ten simple words can be. 30 Second Interview with . . . Bob Mayer

This one’s quite scary to me. Be sure you’re carrying your papers if you visit New York City. This tourist was jailed for two nights for being in a park after hours. Why? She had no ID with her, and the arresting officer would not allow her friend to bring it from her hotel two blocks away. It wasn’t just the arresting officer who abused her and her civil rights, but all of those who cooperated with him for two days until the judge took 60 seconds to throw it out of court. Forget Occupy Wall Street. We need to Occupy Precinct. Student Jailed 2 Nights When She Can’t Show ID

More cute, clever stuff from the Casual Gardener, Shawna Coronado. How to Make Bowling Ball Bugs for Your Garden

You’re probably as concerned as I am to find out that Harold Camping and his doomsday ministry have cancelled Judgment Day due to an apparent lack of interest in him on the part of God. Doomsday Ministry Scrubs End of World Predictions from Website

Nicole Basaraba knows how it’s done, and I’m so glad she shares her insights. Top 10 Travel Tips to Avoid Looking Like a Tourist in Europe

Roni Loren nails it with her blog about blogging and bloggers. The Life Cycle of a Blogger–Ten Stages

Tomorrow is Bank Transfer Day. Many people, angry with the bad behavior and outright malfeasance of big banks are committing to moving their money to local credit unions. I can’t recommend this enough. Local credit unions have all of the services of big banks, often cheaper, and you are bolstering your own community. These tips will make the transfer easier for you. Bank Transfer Day: A Guide to Closing your Account

As a cancer survivor, I’m pretty shameless in encouraging people to take good care of themselves. In honor of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which was last month . . . . Yes. I’m late. . . . Check out this new Man Reminder App to remind people about simple things they can do to detect any problems. Keep in mind, men, that while women are more likely to come down with breast cancer, you are not immune.

And just so you guys don’t feel left out . . . .

From Loving the Size of My Life

What do you think? Would you marry someone who answers at the altar?

All the best to all of you for a week of appropriate texting.

Piper Bayard–The Pale Writer of the Apocalypse

The Doomsday Save

I didn’t get Raptured. Obviously, if you’re reading this, you didn’t get Raptured, either, and we’re all still facing a tomorrow in a world with skinny jeans sold alongside chicken fried bacon. So one of two things happened. There was no Rapture on the 21^st, or the only people who got Raptured were elderly cat ladies who no one will miss for a year. Don’t worry about their cats. The Fairy Dogmother has that covered.

The Doomsday folks aren’t the only ones whose life plan was Apocalypse, only to find out that their deaths have been greatly exaggerated. Do you know anyone who limps around at fifty with arthritis from old motorcycling injuries? Or maybe you’ve met people who muddle through their days with half a brain, having fried the other half with acid during the youth they can’t remember? I’d venture to say most of the prison population over thirty is surprised to still be above ground, too.

And how about people diagnosed with terminal illnesses who blew through their savings and ran up massive debts for world travel, only to survive and struggle with decades of destitution? Many people diagnosed as being HIV positive back when it was a death sentence found themselves in this situation when the antiviral medications first hit the market. . . . “Oh, wow! You mean that three years I had to live just turned back into thirty? I’m so screwed. At least I got that trip around the world and the t-shirt from Disneyland.”

What all these people have in common is that they were counting on the Doomsday Save as an excuse to avoid responsibility. For dying people who didn’t die, it was an excuse to defraud creditors. For outlaws who didn’t die, it was an excuse for self-destruction. And for “Believers” who weren’t raptured, it was an excuse to ignore the responsibility we all have to make this world and ourselves a bit more tolerable.

It’s easy to condemn these folks for devoting their lives to avoiding life, but I have to admit that I have looked for a Doomsday Save more than once. A Doomsday Save is any negative event which we anticipate and use as an excuse to avoid making our lives what we want them to be. . . . They’re going to say no. Girls have never done that. That genre peaked years ago. . . . It’s the anticipation of defeat that keeps us hiding in the Land of Gonna Do Someday, because it feels like a safer place than the Land of Giving It My All and Maybe Failing.

I’ll bite the embarrassment bullet and tell you one of mine. I once dreamed of being a professional poker player. I read and practiced and picked up tips from a close companion. I learned to wear high collars and avoid sunglasses that would reflect my cards. I dealt enough dummy hands to know my odds by instinct, and I learned to control my own tells. But I never played in a real game. Hey. I lived in New Mexico where it was illegal at the time, and I didn’t know anyone who ran a game. Some lame excuses, right? But it was what I needed to tell myself to avoid moving forward in my life.

Then I had a good friend who called my bluff. “Get on a plane and go play in Vegas. People do it every day.”

Crap. I hate when people call my bluff. So I got on a plane and flew to Vegas. It warped my brain and my world to open my dream to reality. To actually do more trying than talking. I went to Binion’s Horseshoe right away, only to discover the action at the tables was so fast I couldn’t even follow.

So what to do? Make an excuse and retreat into my fantasy? Or jump on the wave and ride? I went back to my hotel room, reviewed Amarillo Slim Preston’s Play Poker to Win, and got some sleep to start fresh the next day.

I woke up at 4 a.m. My personal witching hour. Just enough sleep that I’m awake and not enough sleep to have any defenses against the world. So I lay there quivering and talking to myself until there was nothing left to say. Then I got up, went to my hotel casino, and doubled my money in an hour. I played the good cards well and the bad cards better, coaxing money into the pot with my aura of uncertainty until the fellow across the table swore vengeance on me and all of my line. Then I walked away. Turns out I wasn’t there to play poker. I was there to enter the game. I’ve never played poker since.

So today, I face the dream of making enough money at writing to support my habit of writing in the style to which I would like to become accustomed. Plenty of publishing statistics seek out any vestige of that girl who looked to Doomsday excuses to protect her from having to try. But when they do, I hear my friend’s voice saying, “Just fly to Vegas. People do it every day,” and I remember that we’ve already beaten the greatest odds if we choose to enter the game with our whole hearts—win, lose, or draw.

I hope some of those unraptured Doomsday folks will choose to enter the game and recognize that life is not about something that happens yesterday or tomorrow in some other place. Life is about who we are today in this place, and we have the power to choose what this place will be today.

Have you ever hidden from life behind a Doomsday Save?

All the best to all of you for staying in the game.

Piper Bayard—The Pale Writer of the Apocalypse