May 27th, 2009

Welcome to the world of $1300 each nausea patches and $400 each pain killers

Remember Bridget, this beautiful 31-year-old writer who lives in Portland? Three things happened to Bridget in February:
1. She got an agent for her young adult novel.
2. She got married.
3. She found out she has Stage Four colon cancer.

You want to know the reality of health care in American today? Bridget just found out that her "insurance" doesn't cover $1300 a piece nausea patches or $400 a piece pain killers. What would you choose? Paying rent or vomiting so much you end up back in the hospital? Buying groceries or being in extreme pain?

But you can help. To help defray some of the costs, authors and artists all over the US have banded together to offer their goods and services in an online auction. Check out the items at the Bridget Zinn Auction at The auction closes May 30.

If you live in Portland, then go to the Lucky Lab Brew Pub, 915 SE Hawthorne Blvd, Friday, May 29, 6:30-9 p.m. You don't have to RSVP. Just show up! Why did we pick that day? Because the Portland area Kidlit Bloggers decided meeting for drinks and chat on a regular basis would be a great way to network. Bridget came up with the idea to meet on the fifth Friday of a month. May 29 is a fifth Friday.

And if you would like to follow Bridget blog or just find out more about her, you can do so at

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Sadly, I think this is the world I grew up in

A librarian posted scanned images from an older children’s book called “I'm Glad I'm a Boy! I'm Glad I'm a Girl!”

The above says "Boys are doctors. Girls are nurses. Boys are policemen. Girls are meter maids." To learn a few other ways that boys and girls are different, click here.

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Discretion is the better part of valour?

A few weeks ago, I was introduced at an event. The introduction was long, and began with the "fact" that I had won the Agatha, Anthony, and Oregon book awards.

Only I haven't. Always a bridesmsaid, never a bride, I have been but a finalist.

Today I did a radio interview with someone who interviewed me years ago. She said, "I remember your story about how you grew up having to move all over the place and how books were your solace." Then she said several more things before asking a question.

Only I lived in the same place from the age of 5 to 18.

Both times I just let it slide. I'm not sure how to correct people without making them look foolish.

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