NAMI Book Signing - Voices of Bipolar Disorder

Tonight was my first book signing. I was invited to come sign books at the Redding NAMI meeting last month and agreed to do that. With the release of their monthly newsletter, it became clear not only was I going to be signing, but I was the main speaker as well. Public speaking has never been my fave; I'd rather write out my thoughts which probably makes sense since I'm a writer. But I have endured my share of Toastmasters meetings during my marketing career (I would actually sit in my office and cry before I had to do my speeches--true story)so I was okay with the evolving role I would play in the meeting. As my daughter had written in the anthology in a side-by-side perspective of what living with bipolar disorder during adolescence feels like it only seemed right she would be with me to talk. But she was working 3 hours away, in work she's loving, and I did not want to interrupt that in anyway. I would speak alone (and drag my husband along for moral support.)

The day of the reading, the NAMI President told me they would be expecting 40 people, more than their usual group. I had ordered books from LaChance Publishing, but really was not sure how many to order. All I knew was I couldn't have a book signing without books to sign. But I also didn't want that "inventory" writers are always talking about trying to clear out.

We got to the meeting and I wondered how I was going to fill up two hours. I didn't so much have a speech as index cards with bullet points. Those bullet points never got read. Fifty five people came (helpers were scrambling to find chairs)and after I read, there were so many questions people had to take numbers. I signed far more books then I had planned. People traveled from outlying rural areas. And everyone was so thankful.

What this says to me is that there is a thirst for knowledge about bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses. My husband and I often say the statistics are inaccurate: the prevalence of mental illness in our society is much higher than is talked about in the literature. At least it seems that way from the street. Stigma can prevent people from speaking up, but once people know I write mental health material, they often open up with their stories or concerns about a loved one.

What I am always struck with at NAMI meetings is the incredibly, heroic work that is being done by people who have a mental illness, and people who love people that have a mental illness. It feels rock solid honest and it's inspiring.

If this is what all book signings are like, I'm in. Especially the NAMI ones.

*** MEDIA ALERT ***

Local Author and Daughter Featured in New Anthology,“Voices of Bipolar Disorder”
--Upcoming Reading at National Alliance on Mental Illness Meeting in Redding—





WHAT: LaChance Publishing announced today the release of Voices of Bipolar Disorder: The Healing Companion: Stories for Courage, Comfort and Strength. With a forward by the creators and cast of the Tony Award-winning Broadway musical Next to Normal, a play that explores the challenges faced by those with the disorder, this new anthology is the first-of-its-kind publication to openly share the experiences of some of the approximately 1-2 percent of the people in the U.S. that suffer with bipolar disorder.

The eighth in a series of books that brings to light the real-life accounts of those living with chronic illnesses, Voices of Bipolar Disorder is intended to provide support and comfort to those living with the disease and those who care for them.

The anthology includes more than 34 stories of parents, spouses, children and loved ones who have flet the impact of the disease. These tales of courage, strength and compassion offer insight into the challenges of living day by day with the disorder and the terrible isolation experienced by its victims , but most importantly, the writers’ hopes for the future and the strength of the human spirit.

WHO: Local author Jamie Weill says, "My daughter, Amanda, and I believe the best way we can bust stigma and help other families dealing with brain disease is to share our story. We hope that through our story others will find inspiration and know they are not alone. And, honestly, the best pathway we have found to recovery is in looking outside our own internal chaos and serving others."

Diana Clayton, NAMI President – Redding, "The membership is so excited to have Jamie Weil come to our February 1 meeting, tell her story to the group and sign books. Talking openly and honestly about mental illness helps to erase stigma and discrimination which is a giant barrier that gets in the way for finding early treatment."

SPECIFICS: Redding National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) meeting
Monday, February 1, 2010
6:00pm - 8:00pm
Northern Valley Catholic Social Service
2400 Washington Street, Redding

CONTACT:
For more information, contact Jamie Weil at jamie@jamieweil.net or Diana Clayton, President, NAMI Redding at Dianaeclayton@aol.com

New Bipolar Anthology (featuring Jamie and Amanda Weil along with 32 personal stories on living with bipolar disorder)

First-Of-Its-Kind Anthology Voices of Bipolar Disorder Available





Jamie Weil, Cottonwood Resident, and Amanda Weil, San Francisco Resident, Published in Book--

Cottonwood, CA December 10, 2009 – LaChance Publishing announced today the release of Voices of Bipolar Disorder: The Healing Companion: Stories for Courage, Comfort and Strength Jamie Weil, a local resident of Cottonwood, shares her story about discovering her daughter, Amanda, had early onset bipolar disorder at age twelve. Amanda gives her perspective on what it feels like to grow up with bipolar disorder.

With a forward by the creators and cast of the Tony Award-winning Broadway musical Next to Normal, a play that explores the challenges faced by those with the disorder, this new anthology is the first-of-its-kind publication to openly share the experiences of some of the approximately 1-2 percent of the people in the U.S. that suffer with bipolar disorder.

“Amanda and I feel the best way to bust stigma related to mental illness is to share our story,” says Weil. “Bipolar disorder is a brain disease, not a character flaw, and early intervention is critical.”

The eighth in a series of books that brings to light the real-life accounts of those living with chronic illnesses, Voices of Bipolar Disorder is intended to provide support and comfort to those living with the disease and those who care for them. Story highlights include:

• Carrie McCarter, wife and mother of three, who was diagnosed in the early years of her marriage, after years of emotional outbursts and mood swings;
• Jamie and Amanda Weil, a mother and daughter, who share their separate perspectives on how Amanda’s struggle with bipolar disorder impacted their family;
• Lisa Fisk, who tells the story of her brother, who lost the battle to this disease by ending his own life.

The anthology includes more than 34 stories of parents, spouses, children and loved ones who have felt the impact of the disease. These tales of courage, strength and compassion offer insight into the challenges of living day by day with the disorder and the terrible isolation experienced by its victims , but most importantly, the writers’ hopes for the future and the strength of the human spirit.

The Voices Of book series was created by Debra LaChance who, when diagnosed with breast cancer, sought out the personal stories of those who had been through what she was experiencing and from which she could take comfort and find the strength to survive. Debra has provided a new avenue for support for all of those who are coping with chronic and life-threatening disease. To date, the series has tackled some of the most pressing healthcare issues, including autism, breast cancer, lung cancer, alcoholism, Alzheimer’s disease, and multiple sclerosis.

Voices of Bipolar Disorder and all of the Voices Of books are available at bookstores everywhere and online at LaChance Publishing Web site, www.lachancepublishing.com.


Media Inquiries:
Carrie Goldstein
Impact Image, Inc.
954-712-2300
carrie@impactimageonline.com

Where to go in Napa

Mike and I have been collecting wine for 13 years, but living in LA, Napa was too far to drive and who wants to fly when you are going on a wine purchasing rendezvous? Not us. We like to baby our bottles. So we settled for Santa Ynez, Paso and Temecula, all easily accessible by car.

Now in the North State, Napa is only three hours away. When we planned Mike’s birthday trip, Napa was the winner.

When we were trying to figure out where to stay and go we were a bit lost. So many choices and we only had four days. Our research paid off—we had an amazing time so I share it here with you if you are planning to go.

Calistoga is the perfect place to stay. Here you are centrally located to about—um, 8,000 wineries or so—and some fantastic dining options. The Pink Mansion is walking distance from town and was the home of the Calistoga water man back in the day so bustles with historic flare. A B&B ran by Toppa and Leslie Epps, the Master and Honeymoon Suite are huge (actually have two sleeping areas) and are steps away from the outdoors hot-tub. (There is also an indoor-heated pool so bring your suits.) We met some great couples from other states, two of which were celebrating their honeymoon. Most notable, were Jim and Pamela from Houston. They met on Match.com (though they were not matched) a year prior. Their first morning there, Pamela was sick and Jim decided to go on an early jog through the vineyard where he found a doe with two broken legs. He called the vet paramedics who came and tried to rescue the doe. Jim told them he would pay the vet bill and take the doe back to Texas as a gift for his new grandson. (Sadly, the doe didn’t make it.) We enjoyed listening to their stories, including the one where Pamela’s had to swim to her house in Texas (past snakes) after Hurricane Ike took down her entire neighborhood last year. The first thing she checked when she got there was her Harley to make sure it still worked. Miraculously, her house survived and now she has no neighbors.

Breakfast at The Pink Mansion is the best in town.

Down the street from The Pink Mansion is the Lavender Hills Spa. (All about the pastel colors in Calistoga.) There, in a little cottage looking up into a lush green forest, you can get side-by-side hygienic mud baths in one-time use volcanic baths instead of the reused mud in some of the other places in town which we thought was just a little gross. A bath attendant gives you remotes to control your bubbles (Note: just make sure your husband doesn’t get your remote) and comes in asking, “Would you like a cool compress?” After a half hour, you move to side-by-side tables for a renewing foot massage and then to separate rooms for a full-body massage. Use this event to detox from the ridiculous amounts of wine that seem to pour from the hills. (Note: do this BEFORE drinking. There are plenty stories of people who don’t and end up curled up next to the tub in the fetal position, which just doesn’t seem like much fun.)

Best restaurant picks: Brannon’s for short ribs, Calistoga Inn for the peanut butter pie, Go Fish for the sushi (all excellent-especially the spicy tuna roll and poke) and Flat Iron for the Meatloaf.

If you are coming from the North State, take Butts Canyon Road and go by Langstry in Lake County. This was one of our favorite stops because a nice Italian guy named Scott, hospitable as all get out, took us through the barrels using his turkey baster (or “thief”) to sample a whole variety of wines. His knowledge ran deep and we had much fun with him. Down the road is small, family-owned Pope Winery which is worth stopping at to see the old blacksmith shop (all with original tools) and the barrel-room built into the side of the mountain.

Then, of course, there is the vast number of wineries in Napa. Many of these require appointments based on an old law which tried to address the traffic and drunk driving issues in town. Many also have larger tasting fees then we are use to paying. Here are the ones that are worth it: Cakebread and Joseph Phelps (need appointment for both), Prager Ports (ports only-colorful), Mumm (all sparkling wine--has nice photography gallery with rotating exhibit—currently Ansel Adams originals and save the planet theme), Frank Family (both champagne and still wines) and Merryvale. We went to more, but these stand out the most. At Joseph Phelps, we carried a bag of cheese, salami, fig & olive compote and crostini from the Oak Street Market in with us so it wouldn’t get warm in the car. As soon as the check-in lady saw it she said, “Would you like to picnic?” and set up at a beautiful table (usually members only but going on weekdays has its benefits) overlooking a hillside of grapes. She even put out a beautiful Tuscan-like tablecloth with a reserved sign. We felt like we were alone in Italy.

In November, the Valley turns a menagerie of fall color. Most of the grapes have been harvested, and the leaves of deep reds and yellow prepare to fall. Where grapes still hang, the deep purple contrasted to the red is pure beauty. The weather for our trip was perfect, though we were told it can be touch and go this time of year.

Though we had planned to get to Healdsburg, we never got far from Calistoga. Dang. I guess we’ve got to go back.

In Search of Fall Color in the North State

Last Friday, Mike and I took a day trip. Our goal: soak up the fall color before the leaves dropped. We found color, but oh so much more.

We mapped out our route to start at Burney Falls. I hadn't been to the Falls in over 35 years, but remembered them being quite majestic. We stood looking at them, channeling John Muir. (Read with Irish accent.) The spray from the white veils of water misted the forest where we stood, knowing this must be one of the wonders of the world.

Near the top the Falls, a doe wandered, giving us a half-stare. After walking to the base of the Falls and back up, we drove further into the park to discover a still Lake Britton. Surrounded by blackberry bushes, fall color hugged the lake. We walked to the end of a pier and soaked up the quiet. With no movemement but the rings in the water from distant ducks, the color of the surrounding trees doubled, reflected by the glassy water.

The solitude was tempting and we could have stayed all day. But alas, the volocano awaited us!

After taking a side street up to Hat Creek and seeing the observatory where the SETI folks from Mountain View base their alien search (and UC Berkeley looks for astronomical discoveries), we drove into Lassen State Park.

Mt. Lassen is the only plug volcano in the Ring of Fire and is currently active. You realize how much is going on under the earth as you pass by portions of mountain with steam barreling out. In some parts of the mountain, large sulfur ponds boil up in a witchy brew like grey matter. We drove through the park, and through the snow splattered mountain, seeing evergreens far beyond the line of sight.

The park is something to see: meadows below the peak, streams running through fields of tall, wheat-colored grass, vast views of the valley extending clear to Lake Almanor, volcanic rock reminders of the explosion some 90 years ago and trees, trees, trees.

As a child, this trip seemed like a long car ride. As an adult, my spirit renewed, I returned home grounded and inspired. The trip reminded me to keep my eyes open to the journey for it is often there that life's purpose lies.

SCBWI Shasta County Schmooze

I just had yet another conversation with a local writer who will be attending our schmooze at The Elegant Bean on November 15. It's going to be a party. Here's the story.

Shasta County (and Cottonwood in particular)is small and rural. Rodeo is big and folks drink the football koolaid, starting their tykes out playing as early as they can hold themselves up while wearing pads. At the elementary school, they have two teams that play at recess: the Eagles (those on the team) and the "Suckies," those who have not chosen to partake in the koolaid. You get the picture.

When we moved from LA less than a year ago, one of my biggest concerns was small town thinking and the impact that would have on my ability to find critique partners as dedicated as I was, network with other writers, attend conferences, workshops and retreats and so forth. My fear was I would be sitting in the corner reviewing the local practice times (and by default by snack bar shifts) for pee wee football lest my son be ostracized at his new school with no time to write and no writers to behold.

Quite the opposite has occurred.

First, I have written more then I have ever written in my life (and been paid for it as a refreshing change from my pro bono contributions when I started three years ago). The wide open space allows my mind to open somehow, giving me more ideas then I could finish in this lifetime and the quiet to play them out. I am now choosing my projects carefully as to finish revising my YA novel, though did recently have to act on an inspiration from a horse to complete a picture book (my first nonfiction).

Next, I have discovered many talented writers here. They keep a low profile, but have published numerous books and stay true to the craft. I noticed a large number of children's writers around and not just the kind that say, "Yeah, I've always wanted to write a children's book" (which is like, EVERYBODY.)

When I saw an invitation from local SCBWI RAs Patricia Newman and Erin Dealey to start a schmooze in the local area, I thought, why not? A few of us can meet and network. I sent a response with a venue (local joint where I write sometimes) and time. I got a response saying Linda Boyden wanted to do it, too. Linda and I had met through email correspondence before, and I was fairly certain she and I were the only SCBWI members in the North State. I was happy to work with her to find a time that worked for both of us, and the gig was on. That night it posted on SCBWI's site.

"At least we'll have two people there," I thought. "Three, if you count Carly."

I serve on the board of Writers Forum, a writers group in Redding with very strong writers. At the Thursday night board meeting, I asked how they felt about promoting the SCBWI schmooze as many members wrote for children and I thought it would be good if Linda and I had company. They were enthusiastic about the idea of cross-pollination and about promoting writing whatever the type. So I gave them some fliers to hand out at the Saturday meeting.

On Friday Carly called from The Elegant Bean. "I have someone standing in front of me who just came over from the library. Apparently, the SCBWI schmooze was all the talk at toddler story time and there are a number of people that want to come. Do you have fliers?"

Who knew?

Next, I got an email from the RAs telling me we had 8 confirmed schmoozers. (This all before the fliers even went out at the Writers Forum meeting.) Then, in my phone call just now with Maxine she said, "At my writing group last Monday, there were five people who said they wanted to come."

Children's writers, they are emerging! I am thrilled to know that interest is so high and encouraged I will have new writer friends with whom to drive to the conferences in Sacramento and San Francisco. Who knows? Maybe we might even have a workshop in our own neighborhood?

And, by the way, our son will NOT be playing football.

SCBWI Schmooze: Sunday - November 15, 1:00 - 2:00
The Elegant Bean (or next door at the Eagles Nest if we're too many)
20633 Gas Point Road
Cottonwood, CA 96022
jamie@jamieweil.net for more info

Happy Birthday, Mom!

When we made the move north, being close to my Mom was a big consideration. An only child of a single parent, the responsibility of caring for my mom in older years falls on me. While she’s still younger, I want to soak up every opportunity to celebrate life. Our Mt. Shasta birthday get-away was one of those soaks.

We headed out early Thursday morning after school drop with four pillows and 3 bags, and several other ancillary items between us. As we drove north, the gray sky dropped rain making my mom—a bit of a back-seat driver—a little anxious on the roads. When we get in the car, we’re immediately back to 16 and 42. She likes to warn me about “the big trucks, the slippery roads, the merging lanes and whatever else she can think of” somehow not factoring in my 30 years of LA driving which I think should take me out of the “lesson” stage. Since we’ve lived apart for so long it is like losing 30 years of driving credit. Between jumps and gasps, somehow we make it up the highway to Mt. Shasta, still excited about our adventure.

As we headed to the Bed & Breakfast, called the Shasta MountINN, the mountain before us radiated, proud to be wearing her first winter snow. In Mt. Shasta, land of clean air and the best water in the world, skies were blue, temperatures crisp. Innkeeper and friend, David, greeted us and got our bags inside. His garden, breathtaking in every season, showed off her fall colors. With a bit of seasonal remorse, David had “winterized” his garden the day before, bringing in summer’s lawn furniture and getting ready for what seemed like might be a deep snow winter.

“Time for tea?” David asked.
“But of course. Time is all ours,” we said.

We sat, relaxed and talked in the lovely historical home that once belonged to Mt. Shasta’s mayor. Oh, the conversations likely to have occurred from where we sat.

Our next stop was Stewart’s Mineral Springs, a Bohemian mineral bath hangout far from the land of cell phones and flat screens. To get there, you drive past Mt. Shasta, then head out through field and farm, following a white water stream until you hit an area with a one way bridge that you are fairly sure may be facing its last car before the collapse. As you come off the bridge, you see bare butts diving into the creek which that day was 30 degrees. Brrrr. You pass a tee pee used for sweats by a local tribe. (If you’re there on sweat day, you can count on drums galore.) Finding a place to park, and getting out later involves dirt and a thirty point turn.

How to describe Stewarts? Detoxifying. People with names like “Twinkle” helping you. Wrought iron tubs with the sound of the creek coming in the window. The only wood-burning sauna west of the Mississippi that holds about 50 people, some of whom like to stand on their head naked (who does that?) Clothing-optional. Bath, sauna, shower (or creek)—repeat. Relaxing. Renewing. Unique.

After our baths, we headed over to the Spring restaurant where a lady dressed in Indian (eastern) clothes with paint on her forehead like she was celebrating Ramadan and her full abdomen exposed escorted us to a table amongst the trees and next to the creek. A beautiful day for joining nature, a dog was soon up on the deck with us. We watched as he walked in the restaurant, through the kitchen, took a jump in the creek and did the same all over again. Ahh, what different rules here in the land of the spiritual retreat.

After a delicious lunch we headed back to David’s for surprise massages, a nice follow up for two hours of bathing.

Meanwhile, Amanda had started her work day early, ended early and was attempting to time her arrival from San Francisco for dinner with us at The Trinity Café. She was Mom’s ultimate surprise. As a child, Amanda spent time with Grandma alone, but as a teen and now young adult, that time was missing in her life.

Amanda, the organized time machine that she is, arrived exactly at 5:45 when she said she would. I saw her pull in from my window upstairs, waved her up and David helped smuggle her in past Grandma’s room. It was so great to hug my first born and we were like two little kids Christmas morning, pleased with ourselves our plan had worked so well.

We snuck down to Grandma’s room. Knock, knock. “Come in,” Mom said. Amanda steps in and there is silence, followed by laughter and giggles and hugs. “This is my best surprise ever!” Grandma said.

The rest of the time was priceless. Talking, eating, cracking up at Wanda Sykes until our sides ached, eating David’s delicious eggs, veggies and potatoes with toast, walking down Mt. Shasta Boulevard and shopping, filling our jugs up with Headwater water, and just being in each other’s presence.

These are the moments that make life an e-ride and not the merry-go-round.