Open Letter to Doug Harrison

Well, it’s time. Our episode of “My Ghost Story” airs tomorrow night on A&E’s Bio channel 8pm CST.

You’ll see why I write the creepy stuff I do. I myself won’t get to watch it. I’m away this weekend because some kind stranger gifted me a getaway when they learned I was laid off….oh wait.

Can we talk about that a sec?

Do you know how it feels to work for a company for TEN YEARS, only to be unceremoniously laid off  -sorry-  furloughed by EMAIL? That’s right. There I was in my little cubicle, when a warm little message popped in my inbox telling me to go home (without severance)

… and don’t come back.

What the-
huh?

I stood up slowly, peering across the floor, meeting the eyes of others standing slowly too. Their faces said it all. We were like a bunch of Meer cats, stunned into collective, frozen shock. I just don’t know how else to say it. And to send us packing with no warning (and no severance) after TEN YEARS? By EMAIL? Well. That’s just rude.

And let me tell you. I’m a writer, sorry, author now, and my husband’s an artist. People like us are typically starving, or, dead and famous. Yes, he’s successful but trust you me, it’s feast or famine with us. That’s why I kept the jobby job. But now? with no guaranteed income (and did I mention no severance?) I felt . . . (there’s a word I REALLY want to use here, but I write for kids) . . . suffice it to say, I felt 6 letters, rhymes with bucked.

I felt really sorry for myself for a few days. Ok, maybe a week or two. Okay, maybe I still feel a little sorry for myself. But like every other time I felt bucked, I just sank to my knees and prayed. I prayed like a crazy person. Then finally, I heard the answer. And without crunchy corporate white noise clawing at my cerebellum, the answer came louder than usual.

God’s reply was crystal clear:

“Get over yourself. I got this.”
*ding!

(that’s the crystal noise)

And then, like magic, human beauty was everywhere. My fellow, scared-ass former coworkers, as well as the community, were (and are) doing whatever they could to help one another. They glued together like ants on the water to help each other float. It’s quite astonishing and incredibly beautiful. As a matter of fact, the reason I can’t watch my own show this weekend is because a stranger gifted me a weekend retreat. I still don’t know who did it. But I’m so grateful.

And how dare I forget my debut novel, MINDER –my sweet little engine that could–is actually doing well. Strangers are BUYING my book and LIKING it. A lot of them say they LOVE it. Do you know how COOL that is? It’s bucking awesome!

So tune in to the Bio. channel this Saturday 8PM CST. You’ll get to see why my house is called “The Bone Yard” and why its spooky to live here. If you don’t have cable, you can watch it online next week.

And where can you buy my book, you ask?

Here:

http://www.amazon.com/Minder-ebook/dp/B00AGGKZWQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365136354&sr=8-1&keywords=minder+kabay

Also, please forgive any perceived negativity. I know the powers that be had stellar reasons for letting us all go. In that manner. Like they did. With no pocket change.

And before you say “Hey, Ms. Psychic Lady, didn’t you see this coming??”

Well, yes. I did . . . I even wrote a note “To the person cleaning out my desk,” sealed it, time stamped it 2/27/13, and stuck it my drawer. The lay off was March 8th. I DID see myself leaving.

..but on my terms. Like, with a nice contract with Scholastic for book 2. Or something.

Anyway, I’ll see you on the tube. And no worries. I know this transition is cosmic. I’m onto the next chapter. The last chapter was neato. But I graduated.

photo

P.S. I wonder who found my note.

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