Welcome to My Worlds: A Bipolar Christian Tells All

A “Welcome to My Worlds: A Bipolar Christian Tells All” Story 

Since the Romance Writers of America’s (RWA) National Conference, 2009 is almost upon us, I thought a look back at my 2008 adventure appropriate. Here’s the tale of when I winged my way to beautiful San Francisco…

Being me, I planned way ahead of time. Overjoyed the conference was in California this year (it rotates from East, Central, West—although it takes less time to get from So Cal to Arizona than to Northern Cal), I realized I could actually avoid going on Wednesday. One extra day home. Double sigh. I guess I should clear something up. Yes, as an agent, I should wanna spend numerous days networking, but due to rampant Bipolar Disorder and numerous OCD’s (I make Monk look like a lightweight), I have juuust a bit of trouble changing my routine.

Anyway, I booked a 5:00 p.m. flight on Thursday, front of the plane on the aisle (for a quick getaway). The flight was only 1.5 hours, so that’d give me time to get acclimated. My agent appointments weren’t until Saturday morning, so I was set.

A few weeks later, I received an invite to the “Death by Chocolate” party. Two of my authors (Kelly Ann Riley, Terry Odell) were up for a Daphne award, and I figured I should be there. Is there such a thing as a triple sigh? So, I called my airline and changed my 5:00 flight to the 1:20 p.m. flight. Cost me $40.00, but I could justify the expense. I gritted my teeth and whipped out my debit card. Grrr.

Some of you know; I have three businesses. One being 4 Gals Designs for my custom line of handbags. I’d been taking sewing lessons at night, and was hoping to finish what I call a “mini-briefcase” to show off at the conference. Technically, it’s a laptop carrier, but I don’t like laptops. Can’t get used to the rollerball instead of the mouse. (Wonder if that would bother Monk?) The size is perfect for a partial or two, and the one I was making was so hot, it was cool.

I have to say, I’m darn good at most everything I try, but sewing? Oiy! I’m an artist. I love squiggly lines that trail off the page. If any of you sew, you know it’s kind of important to cut and sew straight. In my valiant attempt, I sewed through my thumb. Literally. Needle went through my nail and out the bottom/side.

I yelped, but didn’t cry. (I have a high threshold of pain.) My hubby (he’s such a sweet man) turned from his desk. He saw the blood and nearly fainted, then decided he had to “rush” me to the hospital for a tetanus shot. (The closest hospital is an hour away, so I’d probably bleed-out before arrival.) Besides, we’re too close to the Mexican border. In the Emergency Rooms around here, English is a second language. (Yeah, I know. But we’ll save that for another blog.) My hubby (he’s such a sweet man) froze. I told him to get his behind in gear and grab a paper towel, ’cause if I bled on my mini-briefcase, he was toast.

Then I got revenge on my sewing machine, so to speak—I broke the needle. (No, not with my other thumb.) Happens when working with heavy fabric. I have Brother computerized machines, and I think I need commercial-grade Singers. Grrr. No problemo. Exchange needle and re-thread machine, lickety split. (Wonder where that phrase came from.)

I worked feverishly, doing everything I could at home to save time at my next class. I always get hung up because the teacher doesn’t use the instructions that go with the pattern. She’s been sewing for roughly 100 years (I’m counting her time in the womb), and simply does things her way. Great … until I go home and try to follow the instructions and cute picture diagrams on the patterns. My 400-level finance classes were easier to figure out.

I was sure I’d finish the bag at my last class, the Tuesday night before I left. Nope. All these pesky problems cropped up, so I had to go it alone. No problemo. I was on the second-to-last step when I decided I needed to add a few things. I won’t give you the gory details. I stayed up all night. Well, close. I went to sleep at 4:30 a.m., and got up at 6:30 a.m. Then I tried to fix all the damage I’d caused the night before, but couldn’t. No bag. Grrr.

Lightbulb moment. I knew what would make me feel better. I cut and color my own hair. Not with that boxed stuff. I had to read up on the procedure and learn the process like the “pros.” (One should never stop learning new things. Right? Just don’t ask my thumb that question.) Never had a problem dyin’ my hair before. But a simple application of color couldn’t overcome my feelings of d—de—defeat. Nope. I figured a weave was in order. Didn’t matter that I’d never done one; I used to get them all the time. I had bleach and a dark blond-colored dye in my supply cupboard. I even had pre-cut foil. Didn’t matter that I had to catch a plane in a few hours. I’m a “go for it” kinda gal.

The bleach worked, except the hair at my part and in front processed lighter than the rest. Cool. Those dark-blond highlights around the face would soften the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. (Wonder who thought that idea up.) Step two: I applied the dye, then looked at the time. OMGosh!

I sprinted to the closet, grabbed some clothes, and tossed everything in my suitcase like it was last night’s soggy salad headed for the garbage. Except my shoes. Sigh. Those, I loving wrapped with tissue and care and placed them into the special bags made to slip inside my suitcase, all snug and safe. Double sigh.

Sheesh. I forgot; I still had to rinse the dye out of my hair! I streaked to the shower (no wisecracks) and shampooed. Couldn’t wait to see the new color. (I shoulda waited.) Orange! Yes, orange is my favorite color, but not on my hair. Grrr. What to do? No time to use more dye, and all I had left was my hubby’s (he’s such a sweet man) jet black. Talk about lookin’ like a walking gothic novel. No thanks. Ingenuity. I could handle this. I took a minute to think up a solution. (Actually, it was half a minute—thirty seconds was all I could spare.)

I rummaged through my used make-up drawer and found a sponge applicator and some chocolate-brown eye shadow. Perfect. My brassy orange turned into a sort of caramel color … kinda. That would suffice for the flight. On the way to the airport I could make a pitstop at the beauty supply store and pick up some non-permanent rinse. I figured I’d get to the conference and have plenty of time to implement the color change before the party. Whew. I felt better. Had to hurry, though.

I dressed in comfy clothes, and being the smart gal I am, slipped my feet into my black mules with the kitten heels. (Still haven’t found a pair of brown ones.) That way, when I hit the plastic containers at airport security, I could shuck the shoes off in record time.

My hubby (he’s such a sweet man) hefted my suitcase and off we went. If we broke Mach 1, I juuust might make my flight. I was already nervous, as I wasn’t flyin’ out of my airport: O-N-T, Ontario, CA. I know where everything is there, have the security checkpoints figured out, etc. They didn’t have a flight to San Fran, so we headed to our default: San Diego Airport.

First stop: Pick up the rinse. I rushed into the store, grabbed some Fanciful (never used it before, but how hard could it be?), a squirt bottle, and a pair of latex gloves, then zipped them in the outside pocket of my suitcase, and we were back in business, baby.

We pulled into the airport and it was late. I mean late. My flight departed in twenty minutes. Did I give up? Think I would? No way. We cruised curbside, but couldn’t find the Virgin America drop-off spot. Grrr. I figured I’d find it inside. My family waved goodbye, and I hustled (not the dance, although that used to be totally fun), trotted up and down, back and forth, but didn’t see a counter for Virgin. Grrr. Thinking it must be upstairs, I hit the elevator. (Not literally—with my luck, I’d anger “Hal” and the darn thing would stop between floors.) I taped my kitten heel, waitin’ for the chute to open so I could charge out like a scared calf.

Glance at my watch: Ten minutes until my flight flew. I looked up and smiled at the nice Transportation Safety Administration (TSA) lady, and waved my boarding pass and ID at her. I glanced at the disrobing line, trying to hide my scowl, and asked if I’d make a 1:20 flight. She checked her watch and nodded. Great. No problemo.

I stood behind four people and my Secret antiperspirant wasn’t keepin’ my secret. (No, I don’t really use the stuff, as they’ve linked aluminum with Alzheimer’s, but it made for a good line, don’t ya think?) At least the nice gentleman in front of me let me cut in front of him. (A last resort, I assure you.)

The nice TSA gentleman looked at the size of my bag, then at me. The depth of his frown wasn’t a good sign. He asked if I had any liquids over three ounces. Of course not; I knew the rules. Drat, my rinse! He told me I’d have to ditch it, or go back and check my bag. Since I had no idea where to check it, and my flight left in eight minutes, I coughed up the bottle. Grrr. If I hadn’t stopped to buy it, I wouldn’t have been so late. Sigh. I passed through the metal detector without a glitch. (I know, but the impossible happens at times.) Could I still make the flight? I juuust might squeak by.

Then another nice TSA lady flagged me and pulled me aside next to an elderly woman leaning on her walker, and a young gal cradling a tiny baby. (You never know; the newborn might be hidin’ an explosive device in his diaper.) I shoulda grabbed that white towel I dry my hair with instead of concentrating on my black mules. If they thought I was from the Middle East, they probably woulda saluted and given me a personal escort aboard the plane. (Yeah, I know. But we’ll save that for another blog.)

I grabbed my belongings and she gave me the favored parting words, “Don’t worry; you’ll make your flight.” I scooted to the gate where a lone dude with a nametag reading “John John” (no, I’m not kidding) said, “Are you Kelly?” I huffed out a yes and asked if I’d missed my 1:20 flight. Yep. I glanced at my watch, which read 1:15. I looked out the window and there was the plane, just restin’ up before the big flight. Unfortunately, it’d moved about three inches from the narrow hallway where passengers embark.

No problemo. I could jump it. (Have I mentioned I went to the state finals in track? Yeah, as a sprinter, but I was also nasty at the running long jump.) Yep, I’d simply squat into position, pound the ground at a flat-out run like a flamin’ demon trailed me (Or one of my ex-mother-in-laws. The second one, I think), tap my foot on the board, and soar through the air like I was Jonathon Livingston Seagull.

John John crushed my dreams of glory. Even though the plane wouldn’t go anywhere for another ten minutes, once they’d moved, no cigar. He asked if I wanted to be on standby for the 5:00 flight. I answered in the affirmative, but told him he’d have to wait a minute to sign me up, as I had an important errand to run.

I turned and hoofed it back to the security station. I figured if I had to wait 3.5 hours for the next flight, I might as well get my rinse back and check my bag. I’d have plenty of time to hunt for the elusive Virgin American counter.

I moved past the nice TSA lady who’d promised me I wouldn’t miss my flight, making sure my fake smile didn’t morph into a genuine grimace. (Didn’t wanna lose the yogurt she let me keep in the first round.) I politely asked the nice TAS gentleman for my rinse back, to which he informed me one of the lady janitors had just emptied his “rubbish receptacle” about one minute before I re-appeared. Grrr.

I turned away, head down, bag dragging. (Hey, even I have my limits.) Wait! Janitor at two o’clock! It only took me a minute to convince her I wasn’t a nut. (Which proves my theory I shoulda been an actor.) I don’t speak Spanish, and she didn’t speak English. (Yeah, I know. But we’ll save that for another blog.) She said something kinda resembling the word “ticket” and I nodded. (Not a lie, as I had no idea how close the words “hair rinse” and “ticket” were in Spanish.)

I almost grabbed the latex gloves meant for my rinse operation, but opted to go bare, confident in the knowledge my hubby (he’s such a sweet man) put a travel-size container of hand sanitizer in my gorgeous handbag. (Yep, I made that one. Well, that was the second time I made it. The first time I crashed and burned.) I rummaged through the trash, but no rinse. Grrr.

So, I trudged back to John John, and he put me on standby. I didn’t wanna contemplate what I’d do if I didn’t get on the 5:00. I parked it, and did some line editing after I called Gayle Link. (I tell ya, I couldn’t survive without that women. No joke. She’s the life-preserver in my sea of chaos.)

I wore a light sweater, but that infamous air conditioning kicked in. (The airport personnel have to make sure all those nice people visiting from Antarctica stay comfortable.) With no socks on (I was wearing mules; I had no choice!) I shivered. Great. I was a freezing, angry, miserable, bipolarized (if I say it’s a word, it’s a word) orange-haired woman who was gonna blowout two appointments (beastly!) in San Fran, and might miss the party as well. Could anything else go wrong? (Do I haveta answer that?)

A group of six teenaged boys showed up. No biggie until they set up a movie theater with a large-screen laptop and two speakers. I’m not sure, but they coulda been watching Animal House, or mayhap Porky’s. Either way, I found it difficult to give the manuscript a decent edit.

I spotted a row of seats in the high-traffic area. I caught my breath. (No, not literally.) My gaze fell on a skylight complete with a single beam of afternoon sun peeking onto the floor in a criss-cross pattern. (A tiny ray of warmth for the two blocks of ice I once called my humongous feet.) I stampeded my way toward the light like Colin Ferrell was over there, winkin’ at me. (What I really needed was a Xanax, but what if I fell asleep and missed the call for the flight?) Couldn’t risk it, so I stayed in “full manic mode.” Wasn’t pretty. I looked through the skylight to address my Maker. “Okay, God. I get the whole “Job-thing.” (Not job, JOB. Y’know, the guy who ate it, big-time.) “So, God, seriously, do Ya think You can stop now?”

John John approached. He informed me that when I’d gone on standby, there were seven seats available, but now there was one left. Did I want to reserve it? I pondered why he hadn’t given me that choice from the get-go (Wonder where that phrase came from.), but just said “yes.” He mentioned the additional cost: $25.00, oh, and I’d have to sit in the back of the plane, center seat.

Let’s recap, shall we? I’d paid for the 5:00 flight, front row, aisle seat; then paid $40.00 to switch to the 1:20; then paid another $25.00 to get back on my original flight, with a seat in back, dead center. I gritted my teeth and whipped out my debit card. Grrr.

Finally, at 7:35 p.m., I made it to the Marriot, knowin’ I was home-free. Just enough time to unpack and jam on over to the Death by Chocolate party. Went to my executive king suite where I met my lovely and sweet roomie, Jennifer Clark Vihel. (Sharing a room with her was one of the highlights of my stay, even though we soon realized there was one bed, and two of us. At least she can say she slept with an agent at a conference.) Then I unpacked.

No! Waves of shock shook my body. The room spun. I dove for my meds. The horror I found—or didn’t find—in my suitcase vaulted me over the precipice. Somehow, I’d left my separately wrapped, lovingly bagged shoes on my bed at home. “Grrr” didn’t cover it. I peeked at my shoes. Black mules with a kitten heel. Not exactly stylish enough for my RITA ceremony gown, or anything else I’d brought.

I delved deeper into the bowels of my suitcase, praying I was blind instead of bipolar, and my beautiful shoes were hiding under my Godzilla-sized make-up bag. (Gotta disguise all my flaws. Well, at least the ones on my face.) Sigh. No never-worn, fire-engine-red patent leather chunky heels. No black stilettos sporting tiny shoestring bows, toe cleavage, and pointy tips. (No, your toes don’t go all the way to the top. This style elongates the leg.) No copper metallic slingbacks … I can’t go on, it’s too painful.

I didn’t have my glorious shoes, but my extensive suitcase search did reveal three “ball of the feet” gel insoles, two packs of “heel protectors,” and two sets of “firming arch supports.” Grrr.

Welcome to My Worlds.

Barely know her. Wouldn’t recognize her if I saw her on the street. She has an agent [not me]. Said agent IS my friend, but I just found that out. [Not that her agent is my friend, but that my friend has Gina as a client.] Gina Wellborn is not a member of my organization, Christian Media Association [I checked].  Buuut, I hope she joins, as she’d be an asset, from what I hear.

Just wanna make it clear: I never asked her to do ANYTHING on my behalf, nor for CMA. No recruiting; no help to get back into ACFW [would never go back]. Period. That’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothin’ but the truth, so help me God.

Smiles,

Kelly

That’s all, folks! I’ve posted the truth, apologized for a nasty blog [said nasty blog now deleted] and forgiven the ACFW Boards for all transgressions made against me, although they didn’t ask for forgiveness. [I don’t have a problem with this anymore.]

Wanna make one thing clear: God told me to forgive those who crashed into my car numerous times. He also told me I can now lock my car in the garage. I have no desire to be a member of  any sort in ACFW. Nothing could make me re-join. [No, they didn’t offer.]

I sincerely wish them and their members well, and may God heap blessings upon them. I now wanna move on with my writers’ organization, CMA: Christian Media Association. CMA is not a rival of ACFW; we’re an option. Will blog on that in another day or so.

Wanted to set the record straight, and march forward. I’m fine, and I appreciate your prayers. The subject of ACFW is now closed. Many thanks to all for your support 

K.

Sigh. Deep sigh. Surprise [gasp!], I ain’t perfect. [I know, it was a crushing blow to me as well.]

I talk to God a lot. He tells me what to do and I either argue, or just do it. [Mostly, I argue.] When this heinous ACFW thing happened, He told me I could defend myself, but I hadta handle things His way. He said Brains—not Braun. Don’t go in with guns blazin’. Just stick to the facts, and I’ll take care of everything. He assured me every measure of mercy not given to me, would be a measure not given to those who hurt me. He gave me a gentle reminder when I was beggin’ [I hate the word “beggin’”] the ACFW Board for help. He asked me why I was lookin’ to them for comfort, instead of Him. Then He told me to grab my Bible, and just open it at random. I did: 2 Corinthians 1:1-7. Perfect.

I did what He said, and even though it hurt, even though it wasn’t fair. I got over no longer bein’ a member of ACFW, and started CMA, which was His plan. Never woulda started organization had they not kicked me out of ACFW.

Then I read the post from Shoulder, and I freaked. Thought they were gonna railroad someone else, and on my account. Since I barely knew Gina Wellborn: she had an agent [not me], and wasn’t a CMA member [I checked], I felt I couldn’t let ‘em hack at her. I took drastic measures and wrote a scathing, nasty, mean-spirited blog post, so those ACFW people could feel like I felt, and probably how Gina felt. I meant it as an example, but it doesn’t matter. Bad example.

Yikes. God busted my chops. Boy, howdy, did He. He took me on out to the woodshed and let me have it. [Who does He think He is, anyway? God? Ah … yep.] He said I broke our deal. I strayed from the path. I’d turned into what I loathed. The ends did not justify the means. How can you show being mean-spirited isn’t right, by being mean-spirited? [DUH!] Ouch!

But He’s God, so He done gotta be right. [I think he read Dobson’s book on the strong-willed child.] He set about giving me my consequence, even after I told Him I was sorry. My consequence? Tell ACFW I was sorry. I begged. [Still hate that word.] Please, anything but that! Can’t I just have no TV time for a week? The premiere of The Closer’s on Monday night.… Nope.

Well, I give my opinions in public, and that’s how I apologize as well. No little e-mail tucked away. Gotta blast it out here.

First, I must apologize to ACFW for the nasty blog post I put up. I have taken it down. It was mean spirited. I have no excuse. I don’t think you’re the “C”-word I called y’all. I don’t agree with the way you run ACFW, but that ain’t my call. I shoulda just stuck to my original position and given facts, not conjecture and shouldn’t have stooped to name-calling. I hope you’ll accept my heartfelt apologies. I blew it. I admit it. I was wrong.

Next, to those who’ve joined CMA. I said I was thirsty to lead you. I apologize, as I wasn’t a good leader when I put up that post. I was not a good example of how a Christian acts. I can’t expect people to believe in me, and follow me if I continue to post heinous blogs because I’m hurt, or I see someone else gettin’ hurt. I pray you’ll give me another chance to prove I can be a great leader; someone you’ll be proud to follow.

Lastly, I apologize to my God. Lord, I didn’t do things the way you told me to. I was headstrong, and I ask for Your forgiveness. I’ll remember who I need to listen to; I’ll remember who I need to turn to. I’ll keep my ears open and my big mouth shut. I pray for Your strength and guidance in leading those at CMA. I’ll make You proud.

Since I’ll accept God’s forgiveness, that brings me to another matter. I must forgive those at ACFW. No, they haven’t apologized, nor asked for my forgiveness, but it doesn’t matter. I have to forgive them, as God will forgive me. So, ACFW, although it may not matter to y’all, I forgive you for your transgressions against me. All of them. Truly and from my heart. I wish you and your members the best of everything.

Well, I guess that covers it. Feel free to comment on this blog post, but after that, the subject’s closed. I’m fine. I don’t want anyone feelin’ sorry for me. I get beat up, and then I get up. Swingin’. This time “swingin” doesn’t mean with my fists, but with dancin’. So happy to have CMA, and any members that are with me. Together with God, we can accomplish anything!

Love and Peace to all,

Kelly

[Don’t forget to read Part III first, posted earlier today!]

Well, y’all, this is it. The final frontier. The last episode. [At least I hope so!] Thanks for all the time ya spent readin’ about my icky stuff. Know that I care deeply for ya, and never wanted to leave. But, hey, you can keep in touch via my loop and new organization; info at the end of this post.

So, we left off with another communication to the Boards from me, askin’ them to stop this before I had to air it all. They’ve made silence an art form. Sigh. Glad you’re here to read the last leg of a sad and unnecessary journey. IMO, brought about because someone had a dislike for me [unwarranted, as far as I can see], and let that cloud her judgment so much, she was willing to hurt all the members as long as she could bring me down. [Another “duh” thought, as I keep tellin’ everyone, I wanna be down – hangin’ with my peeps.] Here we go again….

Sent an e-mail to the prayer loop, but didn’t specify:

[Actual e-mail:]

Kelly to Prayer Loop: <start> Pray for a miracle. Pray an apology comes by Monday. Please. This is very important. Thanks <end>

MONDAY: STILL NO RESPONSE FROM THE BOARDS

Time to go to the members. I did all I could; I gave them every chance; I took it o the chin more than I usually do. Yes?

I posted an e-mail to a yahoo group affiliated with ACFW. I’ve already showed ya most of it, so I won’t repeat. Here’s the end:

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]

Kelly to Group:<start> …I have a strategic plan, not for vengeance, but because Her Grace would rather hurt her organization than admit what even my former client said: she was wrong. Christians aren’t supposed to act like that.

[Deleted paragraph]

How can Her Grace alienating and insulting me, help writers? I only sign writers who aren’t published. What other agent can say that? The members should know. I’ll be doing a blog and newsletter, so feel free to sign up.

I’m not about, “I’m gonna hurt you cuz you hurt me!” I wanna stop the ridiculous (the bad “ridiculous”) rumors, and make sure the Board thinks twice about bein’ silent when one of their members gets stomped on, and make them think twice before they blatantly insult anyone.

If any of ya are in RWA (9k members), I took them on. I found them in violation of their bylaws. They tried to bat me away, but I’m pesky. I shut them down for a month, I won, then they hadta change their bylaws. My attention to detail not only works with contracts, but with bylaws as well.

Yeah, they are FIVE powerful people on the Board, and I’m an honorary member with no voting rights, who can’t hold office, or get a hearing before gettin’ kicked out. I’m ONE with no rights against FIVE who hold all the cards. Hardly a fair fight.

They’ll need at least 7 to whip me.

Time to hit the hay. Got writers to help on the morrow … and dragons to slay….<end>

I posted several general messages to the loop, and realized none were going through. The moderator held them all up, so I sent this to the president:

[Actual E-mail:]

Kelly to President [who should be the person moderating the loop as per the bylaws, unless she decided she was too busy or somethin’… FYI: Did ya know the bylaws state the Advisory Board can change anything they wanna contained within the bylaws at any time, for any reason? Wow! Lots of power!]:

<start> Madame President, I have sent several writing-related messages to the loop that do not break the rules, to my knowledge. They have not posted, nor was I informed why they were not posted, and if so, what rule did those e-mails break? Has our organization now moved into “censorship ’cause ya don’t like someone” mode? Your attention to this matter would be greatly appreciated. Thank you. <end>

President made the moderator [the VP] release the e-mails. Sheesh!

I then read the bylaws to see how I could change my membership from honorary to general, as I wanted to run for office to try to help ACFW that way. All I needed to do was be a writer tryin’ to get my work pubbed. So, I sent my medieval partial out. I then e-mailed our operating president:

[Pulled from the actual e-mail:]

Kelly to President: <start> Madame President, I’d like to switch my membership from Honorary to General. I am currently working on my Christian fiction manuscript, Moment of Glory, and have submitted a partial today. I agree with the statement of faith. [Boy, Howdy, do I agree!] What else do you need from me? Thank you. <end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE PRESIDENT]

Sent president another e-mail.

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE PRESIDENT]

Sent president another e-mail.

[Actual e-mail]

Kelly to President: <start> Dear Madame President, This is my third e-mail on the topic of switching my membership from honorary to general membership.

I’ve asked what you need from me, but haven’t received a response. Is there a reason you haven’t responded? I know I’m impatient, [one of my many faults], but when I decide to do something, I like to cross it off my list. Hate leavin’ things hangin’. When you get a spare moment, please shoot me an e-mail. Many thanks. <end>

Whaddya know; I got a response.

[Response to Kelly]: <start> Your unsubscription from ACFW Prayer [Loop] has been completed. We are truly sorry to see you leave and hope you might return again to join us soon. [Somehow, I doubt the truth of that statement, as I never asked them to remove me.] May God bless you as you continue on your own prayer journey. [Ah, how sweet.] <end>

SAY WHAT? I got another e-mail.

[Response to Kelly]: <start> Your unsubscription to the ACFW Loop is successful. We are sorry to see you go. [Somehow, I doubt the truth of that statement, as I never asked them to remove me.] If you are only going nomail [Is ‘nomail’ a word?] for a deadline, we pray you get it done and can return to us. [Here I am. Your prayers are answered!] If life is a bit much at the moment, [Ah, yeah, actually, it is….] we pray it smoothes out soon. If you are leaving permanently, [?] we wish you the best with wherever life takes you. Thank you for your time spent with us. God bless. [Cough. {Sorry, couldn’t help it}.]

[Kelly’s Response]: <start> This message just adds to the heap of insults y’all have put on me. You need an alternate message like: “We’re not sorry to see you go. We’re removing you from the loop because your likeability threatens us, and we’re like the liberals. We don’t really care about the organization or helping writers, we just care about controlling them and staying in power. Have a nice day.” I did not unsubscribe, ‘nomail’ is two words, and God bless you too. <end>

[Operating Board to Kelly]: <start> Kelly, we regret to inform you that your honorary membership to ACFW has been revoked.

The ACFW Operating Board <end> [You don’t say?]

[Kelly to President]: <start> On what grounds? <end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE PRESIDENT]

I went online and applied for general membership.

[Membership Officer to Kelly]: <start> Kelly, After a vote of the operating board, your application for general membership is denied. You will receive a refund of your application fee within 48hours. Thank you.
Cara C. Putman, ACFW Membership Officer <end>

[Kelly to Membership Officer]: <start> On what grounds? <end>

[Membership Officer to Kelly]: <start> Kelly, Your general membership application was denied due to your threats against the ACFW Advisory board.

Cara C. Putman, ACFW Membership Officer <end>

[President to Kelly]: [Finally!] <start> Your honorary membership was revoked due to your threats against the ACFW Advisory board.
Cynthia Ruchti, ACFW President on behalf of the ACFW Operating Board <end>

[Kelly to President]: <start> I’m surprised y’all didn’t say, “With a picture of me holdin’ a rifle.” <end> [Sorry, couldn’t help it.]

[Kelly to President and Membership Officer]: <start> What exactly are the threats I made against the Advisory Board that are the cause of you denying my application for general membership? <end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM EITHER PERSON]

Three Days Later…

[Kelly to President]: <start> Madame President, With all due respect, I’m asking for a more specific reason of why you denied my general membership application. Exactly what threats did I make against the Advisory Board? I believe I deserve that much of an explanation. <end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE PRESIDENT]

[Kelly to President]: <start> Madame President, Trust me. This is not the time to stonewall. I’m asking you one more time: In what way, specifically, did I threaten the Advisory Board Members? <end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE PRESIDENT]

Three times I asked. Three times, no response. Wait. Why am I shocked? Then God stepped in. He often tells me what to do, as opposed to me thinkin’ something up, then havin’ to pray about doin’ it. The message was: “Kelly, don’t remodel. BUILD.”

Build. Build? Well, why the heck not? Still, what about my reputation? First the rumors [I still don’t have any info on the perpetrators], and after that, ACFW throws me out. Wait! And for the same reason as the alleged rumors: Threats! I did the only thing I could think of: I asked ACFW to reinstate my honorary membership, and then let me quit, so I could say I left as opposed to them tossin’ me like a wilted salad. Dunno why I bothered.

[Kelly to President]: <start> New plans. No longer wish to be a part of ACFW, but, I don’t want my name besmirched more because the Operating Board threw me out. My suggestion? Restore my honorary membership, then I won’t renew it, or will not accept it. Yes, you have my word. This isn’t a trick. I’m trying to make one last attempt to restore my rep and spare ya some grief. A lot of grief. Please consider. Thanks. <end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE PRESIDENT]

If they’d have done it, and Her Grace had apologized, end of story. No blog. No nothin’. Obviously, no-can-do, cuz we know how the story ends, and it ain’t no romance.

So, I never found out who the rumormongers are, other than members of the Advisory Board, never got an apology from an unrepentant Her Grace or anyone else on the Boards, and never got an answer as to what specific threats I made against the Advisory Board that precipitated refusal of my general membership. [Guess it must’ve been all those chances I gave ’em….]

If I were an ACFW member, I’d pass the words: “Crack the clique…” Those Advisory board members should resign. I’m glad they no longer represent me, although I’ll always cherish my Agent of the Year award, and the tons of friends I’ve made at ACFW. I’d like my membership restored to clear my rep [at least on that score]. Mayhap y’all can write them letters, but don’t take too much valuable writin’ time, as [IMO] they’re too tiny in their bigness to bother.

I should point out the Operating Board threw me out, not the Advisory Board. The Advisory Board is simply the engine pullin’ the train(wreck), and the ones withholding vital info on the rumors.

So i recommend: One Board ousted; one voted out. If you’d like to know how to get rid of the Advisory board, who are probably gonna be there as long as the sun rises, lemme know. I’ve weighed the decision about whether or not to file a lawsuit. I’m so doggone busy, but I hate injustice. Still, I’m just too tied-up to sue, and would rather forget ACFW. Anyway, wanna do as Christ said and shake the ACFW boards’ dust offa my feet, and keep truckin’. Or bikin’. As soon as my youngest turns 18, I get a Harley for her birthday. Not ridin’ now. My hubby [he’s such a sweet man] thinks I’d be irresponsible to ride when I’m parenting a minor.

The end … and the beginning:

I launched my client’s career; Her Grace got my client; they gave me CMA. Sounds like a fair trade. I’ve started my organization, which is open to all Christian writers, and the head of the organization [that would be me], will always sit the farthest from the salt. [If ya don’t know what that means, ask a historical writer.]

Thus, the birth of CMA: Christian Media Association. We’ll have a Web site up by the end of next week. Hope y’all will join. Here’s a taste of what’s ahead. Will send more inclusive info on my Memorial Day Blog.

Kelly Mortimer Announces…

CMA: CHRISTIAN MEDIA ASSOCIATION

… Together with God, we can accomplish anything!

Mission Statement: A nonprofit organization in existence to help all Christian writers–no matter what they write–succeed in the literary, motion picture, and television industries.

Short-Term Goals: To help all Christian writers in whatever way we can, get their work in circulation.

Long-Term Goals:

· To publish great books written by Christians, and establish wide distribution.

· To put out good, clean Films [Like in the olden days, when they didn’t even need to rate movies.] Dramas, suspense, comedies, etc., with secular and Christian themes, in ‘G’ and ‘PG’ formats exclusively. [Someday, from our own studio. Gotta dream big, or ya won’t realize big dreams.]

Statement of Faith: Board is workin’ on it.

Sign-ups start next week; notification through my loop; membership fee will be $25.00.

Loop: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Agent_of_the_People

Our Web site will be: www.joincma.org

C’mon, y’all. I’M THIRSTY TO LEAD YA. Follow me. Join us. …Together with God, we can accomplish anything!

[Permission to Forward]

Kelly Mortimer of Mortimer Literary Agency Presents:

The First “Hangin’ with a Happenin’ Agent” Conference

Everyone knows I’m certifiably insane, so I need to keep up my rep. I’ve decided to have my own mini-conference. A one-woman conference. [or a two-woman, if ya count my bipolar disorder] Learn. Laugh. De-stress in beautiful Southern California.

WHY?

· Many writers belong to RWA, but can’t afford a trip to their D.C. conference.

· Many writers don’t belong to an organization, and don’t know where to start.

· Many writers can’t afford the high costs of conferences: conference fees, food, lodging, extra editing and seminar costs, transportation. Yikes!

· Many writers don’t get a chance to know an agent in a ten-minute appointment. I wanna make friends! I’m a good friend to have. [So my friends tell me….]

· Many writers don’t like conferences where thousands of people attend. [Sometimes it’s better to be a big fish in a small pond.]

· I guarantee you’ll leave my conference motivated, more knowledgeable, and well rested. [You’ll have downtime, and great ways to spend it.]

· Conference will benefit anyone who wants to rev up their writing, have fun with me, and possibly win ridiculous [the good ridiculous, meaning “awesome”] prizes.

GENERAL INFO:

Place: Calvary Chapel Conference Center, Murrieta, CA. [Note: This is a conference for ALL writers, not just inspirational writers]

Dates: Friday May 29, 2009 at 4 p.m.; to Sunday May 31^st at 10:15.

Registration: Deadline to have forms and money order in my hand: Thursday May 28

AGENDA:

• One-hour workshops with practical, hands-on advice to help writers in different aspects of their careers.
• A one-hour Motivational Speech [I dare ya not to be motivated.]
• A twenty-minute pitch appointment with moi.
• Question-and-Answer time
• Hangin’ out with me. Just wanna gab? I’m up for it.

AMENITIES: [It’s a sic spot, dudes!]

• Mammoth swimming pool [not a pool for Mammoths, it’s just gigantic]
• Roman Spa that holds 80 people [No worries. LOTS of chlorine.]
• 6 Natural Hot Springs
• Tennis
• Volleyball
• Basketball
• Billiards
• Foos ball
• Ping-pong
• The grounds have fountains, waterfalls, palm trees; and rolling, green lawns.

FUN EXTRAS and PRIZES:

• I’ll bring some of my bodacious, blingy bags [custom-made handbags] from Four Gals Designs [www.4galsdesigns.com], as they aren’t yet available in high-end stores. They’re pricey (hundreds), but I’ll give y’all a discount.
• One fortunate attendee will WIN a handbag just for attending a workshop!
• Immediately following the conference, you can win lunch and shopping on me. [Well, I don’t want your lunch on me.][details follow]
• Drawing for a chapter (up to 30 pages) content/line edit.

COST:

• Workshops [kewl], Motivation [priceless], Pitch [my undivided attention—oh, forgot, I’m bipolar…sorry.], All Five Meals (two breakfasts, one lunch, two dinners), and Lodging. [Lodging is dorm-style: two-to-six people per room, but the rooms are off the rip—and I’ll be stayin’ in one of them. Pillow fight, anyone?]

• Total cost for the entire weekend of information, fun, and R&R is only $250.00! Period. Everything’s covered except transportation. An awesome deal!

TENTATIVE SCHEDULE:

Friday:

4:00-5:00 Check in

5:00-5:30 Orientation

5:30-7:00 FREE TIME! Unpack, rest, explore the acreage of waterfalls, gardens, etc., or use the fab facilities.

7:00-7:45 Dinner

8:00-9:00 Motivational Speech: How I Went from Worthless to Worthwhile

Saturday:

8:00-8:45 Breakfast

9-10:00 Workshop: Extreme Makeover: Editing Edition, Part 1 (Bring THREE Full-

Page Overheads of Your Work, and We’ll Edit them!)

10-12:00 Appointments (If you don’t have an appointment, this is FREE TIME!

Rest, explore the acreage of waterfalls, gardens, etc., or use the fab facilities.)

12-12:45 Lunch

1:00-2:00 Workshop: Extreme Makeover: Editing Edition, Part 2 (Bring THREE Full-

Page Overheads of Your Work, and We’ll Edit them!)

2:15-4:00 Appointments (If you don’t have an appointment, this is FREE TIME! Rest, explore the acreage of waterfalls, gardens, etc., or use the fab facilities.)

4:00-5:00 Workshop: Query Letters and Synopses – Make a Great First and Last Impression

5:00-6:00 Let’s hang out! Informal question and answer session, or we’ll just gab. (No pitches allowed!)

6:00-6:45 Dinner

7:00-8:00 Workshop: Bleak to Chic – Dress for Success (My version of What Not to Wear.) Lookin’ great gives you the confidence you need in a field where rejections abound. One fortunate attendee to this workshop will win a $100.00 gift card to buy a new outfit, and if you stay until the conference is over, we’ll go to lunch, and then I’ll take you to the mall and give ya advice on how to spend your winnings!

Sunday:

8:00-8:45 Breakfast

8:45-9:00 Drawing for Four Gals Designs handbag and Chapter Edit. Collect survey sheets. Closing remarks for those who don’t have Sunday appointments and wanna bail.

9:15 Shuttle to airport, or hang out until noon (when they kick ya out).

9:15-10:15 Appointments (If you don’t have an appointment, this is your last chance to take advantage of the facilities until noon, or you can get the heck outta Dodge.)

10:30-1:30 Shopping trip and lunch for workshop winner, if still around. (Hint: Duh!)

ACQUISITIONS LIST:

[You don’t have to write in the genres listed below to attend. Still have great info.]

• Single Title and Category/Series
• Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy (No Chick Lit)
• Historical Fiction
• Historical Romance
• Paranormal/Fantasy/Speculative (Both romance and not)
• Romantic Suspense (No Cozy Mysteries)
• Suspense/Thrillers
• Women’s Fiction
• Young Adult/Middle Grade
• Non-Fiction
• Screenplays/TV Scripts

Not Looking For:

• Science Fiction
• Children’s Books
• Westerns
• Poetry

ABOUT THE AGENCY/KELLY MORTIMER:

• Kelly is a Two-Time Nominee, and the American Christian Fiction Writers “Agent of the Year,” 2008
• Top 5 : Publisher’s Marketplace Top 100 Dealmakers–Romance Category, 2008
• Top 10: Publisher’s Marketplace Top 100 Dealmakers–Romance Category, 2007
• Founder and Operating President of the new Christian Writers’ Organization, CMA: Christian Media Association www.joincma.org (not live yet)
• Represents ABA Writers (Secular), and CBA Writers (Inspirational)
• Agency is Romance Writers of America (RWA) Recognized www.rwanational.org
• Member: Orange County Chapter, RWA www.occrwa.org
• Monthly Snarky Humor Columnist - Christian Fiction Online Magazine www.christianfictiononlinemagazine.com
• Monthly “Ask an Agent” Columnist - Romance Writers United http://rwunited.freehostia.com
• Agency Site: www.mortimerliterary.com
• Web Site For Writers: www.perilsofpublishing.com
• Blog: www.welcometomyworlds.com
• Loop: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Agent_of_the_People

MISCELLANEOUS INFO:

• Handouts for workshops given
• No tape recorders, please.
• If traveling via air, Ontario Airport (ONT) is the closest, roughly 40 minutes from the site. We’ll run one shuttle from the airport on Friday at 3:00 p.m.—can fit the first 6 people who request a ride, and one on Sunday at 9:15 a.m. No charge!
• Dress is ultra-casual. [I know what I said about dressin’ up, but not for this conference.]
• More questions? E-mail me: kmortimer@mortimerliterary.com
• Sorry, no refunds.

Let me know if you’re in, I’ll e-mail you a registration form, then you pony up the dough by Cashier’s Check or Money Order only, made out and sent to:

Kelly Mortimer

52645 Paui Road

Aguanga, CA 92536

Hope to meet some serious, non-hobby writers and get to know ya. Boo-Yah!

Sorry. Cut this in two as it’s nearly 5k words, but I will post the rest within an hour or so. Wanna be done with it.

Okay, so I left off with a vengeful-like comment, but that was just my usual snarky humor. Seriously. This is not about “getting even.” I couldn’t get even if I tried. This is about informing members about what goes on in their organization, and nothing more. I’ve moved on by starting CMG: Christian Media Association. I’ve put a teaser about my new organization at the end of the Part IV blog. Also have with one last notice today about my mini-conference.

Part III- I was lettin’ it go “for the good of the organization.” Tough for me, but I sucked it up. Until…

Honestly [and ya know I am], conferences are horrendous for me. I’m manic a week before [at least], manic the week of, and depressed for two weeks after [at least]. I would’ve had 32 appointments, and I already had 16 clients. I know most of my agent friends have around 40, but I never wanted that many. So, when I saw I wasn’t a finalist for Agent of the Year, I decided not to attend the conference. [As most of ya know, that’s the only way I take submissions.] But I’d told many people I’d see them in Denver. I owed those writers an explanation and time to check out other agents for possible appointments. I sent the following message to the general loop:

[Actual e-mail]

Kelly to Loop: <start> Hey Gang, Just wanted to give ya a heads-up. I’m sorry, but due to circumstances I can’t mention here, I’ve decided not to attend the ACFW conference this year.

I realize y’all know that I only take submissions from writers who I see at conferences, so I apologize if you were planning to have an appointment with me.

You can view the conferences I will be attending at my site, and I will impart my reasons in my next newsletter, whenever that may be.

Thanks for understanding <end>

The moderator refused to post the notice on the grounds that if she did, all the editors and agents might flood the loop with “I’m not coming” or “I’m coming” messages. [Oh, come on!] Everyone knows who’s going, as they’re on the site under Faculty, and who’s not, cuz they aren’t on the site under Faculty. How many cancel? Bet I’m the only one, or close to it. Blatant attempt to silence me. There was no violation of the rules in my post that I could see. You?

I sent the moderator an e-mail:

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]

Kelly to Moderator: <start> "Christians" [your advisory board knows who, but won’t tell me, so I can neither stop them, nor defend myself] at Mt. Hermon started a nasty, untrue rumor about me, and some of ACFW’s Advisory Board Members heard it [the Advisory Board Members won’t tell me which ones], and reported it. Even though they have evidence said nasty rumor isn’t true, they never apologized, nor sent me a "you’re cleared" letter, although y’all had no problemo sendin’ a "your behavior isn’t a good example for an ACFW member" letter.

So, let’s say some writers saw my bio and pic up on the faculty page, and now, WHOOSH, I’m gone. Might they think y’all tossed me out cuz the rumor was true?

Since y’all want to be secretive and combative, I’ll play. You’re [IMO] being ridiculous [not in the kewl sense]. I’m probably the only person cancelling, but even if there were a few more, it wouldn’t "clog" up your precious, sacred loop. Since you won’t let me put a benign e-mail on said loop, I’ll just Twitter. [Actually, I said more than that, but I can’t include it as it refers to a certain phone call.]

The members should know their revered "advisors" didn’t stick up for me when others gossiped. I woulda said, "Hey, don’t be talkin’ smack about our current Agent of the Year!" Worse, they knifed me in the back, made me go totally manic, and put me in hell on earth for at least two days, which is now reoccurring. Y’all take the "C" outta "A-C-F-W."

[Deleted a portion.]

I’m tired of the politics, tired of the head-games, tired of having people like Her Grace spouting she won’t let anyone on the advisory board tell me what the heck is goin’ on when it’s MY NAME, MY REP gettin’ trampled. You can all just take a flyin’ leap. I’m renewing my membership, but as far as volunteering, judging contests, going to conferences, etc., I’ll just make y’all incredibly, deliriously happy, and refrain from helpin’ out or attending your events.[Removed a few lines due to a hilarious, apropos political comment.]

THAT’S why I ain’t goin’, and everyone I know’s gonna know it. As Jack Nicholson said in A Few Good Men [adapted] "All’s you’ve done today, people, is weaken an organization." Have a nice day. <end>

CRACK! I’d hit my limit. I couldn’t take anymore. I told the moderator “Fine, but I owe everyone an explanation, so if you won’t let me do it through the loop, I’ll use Twitter.” [Since the clique so loves it.]

[Actual Twitter message]

Kelly on Twitter: <start> "Sorry. Not goin’ to the ACFW Conference. There’s more snakes there than on my 20-acre ranch." <end>

Then a client sent me an e-mail, and I answered within that e-mail. My words are in blue. Some parts were deleted for privacy purposes.

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]

Client to Kelly; Kelly to Client: <start> Kel, [what my family and close friends are allowed to call me]

You KNOW I think you’re right about the rumor situation, but why would you air all this so publicly? I tried to send a benign message on the loop, simply stating I apologized to anyone who was planning on meeting me there, as I know that’s the only way I take submissions, and they could check my site for the conferences I would be attending. Your loop moderator [had a different word there, but don’t wanna get in trouble—ah—more trouble….] wouldn’t let it go thru. You were the bigger person and handled things as a Christian should–going straight to the source to get the truth and resolve a difference. Unfortunately, I never could go to the source, as Her Grace refused to tell me who started the rumors, and who was spreading them. I have a right to know, and she told me she wouldn’t allow any advisory board members tell me anything. All I wanted was a name. She denied me that, and shrieked at me. Sheesh. I’m bipolar, and I was calm and respectful; she was out of control and rude. 

Yes, some people were wrong to not tell you who was spreading rumors about you, Only Her Grace. Her orders. but it’s all handled and things are great between you and the publisher, right? Yeah, everything is peachy. I lost that deal, [First deal that ever fell through. The publisher and I take equal fault in the loss. Got the client another deal for the same book, but still…] I lost that client, and for all I know, people are still circulating that rumor. I’m doin’ freakin’ great. The deal is done.

You said you chose not to attend the ACFW conference, and I respect that. But posting such statements about ACFW as an organization up on Twitter? [GASP!] That’s just the appetizer. The only person I ain’t gonna name IS the publisher, as I gave said publisher my word. Her Grace outta be ashamed of herself, and every writer in my address book [Okay, so I kept it to my blog. You’d think they’d say thank you.] is gonna know what the Advisory Board of your wonderful, writer-helping organization did to me. They can believe me or not. I don’t give a fig.

I have nothing to lose. I don’t do this for a living. I’ve helped numerous writers. I served like God told me to. My conscience is clear. I have a right to defend myself, just as I have a right to keep and bear arms. I suppose now the rumor is gonna be I threatened a CLIENT with a gun?

The publisher sent Her Grace a letter absolving me, and she still didn’t even send me a "you’re in the clear" e-mail. But posting such statements about ACFW as an organization up on Twitter? That can backfire and hurt you, Nothing they can do can hurt me. I’m not bound by any confidentiality agreement with them. My rep is already been hammered, and they didn’t care. Her Grace jumped all over it. I never cared about the money, and they can’t take my plaque away from me. it can hurt your clients’ careers–myself included in that.

I’ve already heard from several of my clients. Some of the terms they used included "they’re all losers," "I’m proud you rep me," "What a bunch of dummies," and now you’re weighing in on their side? Didn’t hear you comin’ to my defense. So, guess what? I’m releasing you. I only want clients who think about more than money and their careers. I didn’t speak for a day-and-a-half. Just stared with a blank look. Almost accidentally shot my husband when I wasn’t careful and my firearm discharged. When my daughter tried to hug me, I couldn’t respond. I implored someone on the Advisory Board to help me, and they didn’t. They can’t hurt me’ ’cause I don’t care about the money, and those who do know and love me, still do.

While I totally understand you being upset with some of the advisory board members, not ALL of them had anything to do with the situation. Too bad Her Grace wouldn’t let them make the distinction. A situation that’s now resolved. No resolution for ME! I DON’T KNOW WHO STARTED THE RUMOR. AND I DON’T KNOW WHO SPREAD IT. AND I DON’T KNOW WHO REPORTED IT. AND I HAVE NO APOLOGY FROM ACFW, BUT I DO HAVE A NASTY LETTER. What? Ya think I’d fight tooth-and-nail for you, and not myself? I kept quiet. I warned them I wouldn’t go away. The “trouble” is now on them [her]. 

I beg of you to let this go. NO. I’m asking you–friend to friend– don’t put this in your newsletter or post anything more about the situation publicly. It’ll be everywhere, including the nasty letter they sent, and including the conversation with your glorious friend, Her Grace, who shrieked at me and said nasty things, and basically told me to shove it. [Okay, so I left the phone call out. {You’re welcome, Your Grace.}] I never even raised my voice.

In Christian love, turn the other cheek. Please. [Where was their “Christian love”? Why not e-mail them with this message? Haveta explain a Biblical principle here. Jesus told us to turn the other cheek so non-believers would see it, and we’d be a stellar example, etc. If ya wanna know what to do when another “Christian” attacks ya, read the book of Paul.] You don’t know me. I thought ya did, but ya don’t. Justice. I’ll get it. But it didn’t haveta be this way. A cornered rattlesnake only strikes when there’s no other way to defend itself. Same here. She gave me no choice.

[This refers to a different situation, but goes to support my character.] When that person thought she was sendin’ a nasty e-mail about me to another person, but accidentally sent it to me, I let her know I got it. She was mortified, apologized profusely, and now we yuck it up. [Forgive and forget.] When the publisher apologized, I said, "Dude, [I call both men and women “dude.” It’s a So Cal, kewl-kinda thing.] it’s already forgotten. I’ve got your back. I’ll never use your name or your company name in anything I release," and the publisher promised the same. We’re looking forward to working with each other in the future.

Her Grace wreaked havoc in my life for days, said nasty things to me, and threw your president under the bus, as well as any Advisory Board members who had no clue. Yet, if she called me in the morning and admitted she was wrong, and apologized [and meant it; and I’d know], I’d treat her as I treated the two people I mentioned above. Mayhap you should try sending Her Grace an e-mail. My arm is numb, my heart is number, and I haveta go and take not the knife, but the axe, outta my back now. <end>

I sent the Boards another letter:

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]

Kelly to Boards: <start> I think you owe me an apology, Your Grace. I knew it wasn’t forthcoming, so I had no choice but to live with it.

That doesn’t mean I was okay with it. I was never okay with it. I spent 1-1/2 days silent. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t talk. I just stared at nothing. When my daughter tried to hug me, I couldn’t lift my arms to embrace her. [I know I wrote that in the above e-mail, but this was to a different person.] On that second day, about noon, my hubby walked out the door to leave. Something snapped [God kicked my butt, actually.] and I ran out and stopped him, then stood in his arms sobbing for five full minutes telling him I didn’t understand, that I just wanted to help writers.

I begged y’all to help me, and you cared less. I acted in a Christian fashion. I kept quiet for the sake of ACFW. The straw that broke the camel’s back and took me to Twitter was your moderator blockin’ my simple e-mail.

My bio and pic were on the ACFW site as an agent goin’ to the conference. Many people saw that. When I decided not to go, obviously, my info was taken down. Might some people hear the rumors [that I couldn’t stop as I have no idea who’s spreadin’ them], see, I was no longer attending, and surmise the rumors were true? I told all those who wanted to submit to me that I only take submissions from writers I meet at conferences. I told a lot of writers I’d see them there. I owed them some kind of explanation.

My loop message was respectful. My newsletter woulda been respectful as well. Somethin’ like "I don’t agree with ACFW on some important points," or similar. I wasn’t gonna go into it. Wasn’t gonna name you, nor repeat the insults you hurled at me.

Since y’all decided to keep vital info from me, thus stifling any chance I had to defend myself, then blocked my loop message, I took action. At this point, I’m riled, and I’m not goin’ away. ACFW members have a right to know what y’all did.

So, could we end this right now? Yep. If you send a sincere apology, done deal. I forgive and forget. I’d be fiercely loyal to you. That’s how I am. If not, I’ll just continue to defend myself. Since you already called me [blank] when I wasn’t, I might as well be now, including putting the letter from ACFW on my blog, as that’s the last communication received from y’all. Won’t do anything harsh until Monday [May 11]. [I sent this on Friday, so Her Grace would have time to pray and reflect, and hopefully repent and ask my forgiveness.] I’ve cancelled my plans for Mother’s Day, so I’ll be here.

Look, I could have 100 clients by tomorrow if I wanted them. I don’t. I liked taking care of my little family. Your actions ripped my family apart. Not happy about that, but I gotta do what I gotta do. Loyalty means a lot to me. Every other client save one I haven’t heard from yet is with me, and appalled at the situation. I’m appalled.

You have the power to stop this freight train. I don’t mind gettin’ a bloody nose. The absolute worst thing that can happen to me would be that every editor at every Christian house refuses to work with me. If so, I find an agent for my beloved, loyal clients, and I switch to the ABA, and since Hollywood is next door, screenplays and TV.

I won’t be sendin’ y’all any more e-mails. I’m sick of politics. Shouldn’t be any in ACFW. I’m sick of wasting time on these dumb e-mails. Time I could be spendin’ helpin’ writers. That’s what I’m all about. That’s all I was ever about. That’s what the ACFW I loved was all about. I thought that’s what you were all about. [Apparently not.]<end>

[NO RESPONSE FROM EITHER BOARD.]

Continued in ACFW Part IV, later today.

Appreciate all the support. The ACFW Board has commented that what I wrote isn’t the whole story, and they’re right. [Gotta be right about somethin’.] I’ll try to finish up here, but I won’t tell you about the horrid phone call with a Board member. All that shrieking and insulting. [And my hubby {he’s such a sweet man} heard every word.] I’ll stick to the facts, mostly through e-mails. But as I hope I demonstrated yesterday, I AM honest, and have no reason to make anything up. On the other hand, several people have told me about their problems with the ACFW Board, so I ain’t the only one who’s been jobbed. [Yeah, I know, I just wrote a passive sentence. Guess what? I don’t care.]

We left off with me showing you the “threatening” e-mail. [Y’know, they really insulted me. I’m part Sicilian, and they considered that a threat? I’m SO offended!]

I answered the censure letter to the Advisory and Operating Boards:

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]

Kelly to the Boards: <start> I love ACFW. I help ACFW. I uphold what ACFW stands for. I take offense that members of the advisory board of the organization I love and serve, would deny me my right to face my accuser, and to harbor and keep secret the names of those who spread such gossip. I need to find out. I’d never do what someone accused me of. Do y’all really know me?

Having bipolar disorder, I’m legally disabled. I could be livin’ off y’all. But I don’t.

Every conference is hellish for me. Constant psychotic mania. Yet, I’m the agent in the lobby talkin’ to newbie writers; encouraging them. [I have about 100 thank you notes to prove it.]

I’m the one who seems so together, when inside I’m crawling with a myriad of coping problems. Still, I come.

When last year’s ACFW Conference’s silent auction didn’t go well, and my edit only brought in a small amount, I sent money so my auction would garner over $100.

When a client couldn’t afford a Web site, I paid to have one created for said client.

[Skipped two bullets for privacy reasons.]

I send every editor who buys a client’s manuscript Godiva truffles. I send every editor who sends a rejection a handwritten thank you note.

I never call editors on Mondays.

I make editors laugh.

I work hours upon hours, and although I take a commission, I’ve NEVER written a paycheck to Kelly Mortimer. I’ve never used my commission for me. Obviously, I’m not in this business for the money. I never wanted to be an agent. I was a writer. I’m doing what God told me to do, which is why I succeed.

Apparently, rumors and gossip about me abounded at the Mount Hermon Conference; a conference for Christians. I can’t decide what word to use concerning that. Appalling? Evil? Non-Biblical? Rude? Hurtful? Well, I suppose they all fit.

Her Grace assured me you’ll [the advisory board] stonewall, and will tell me nothing. She shouldn’t be in charge of what I’m allowed to know. I’m askin’ those of you who were at the Mt. Hermon Conference to e-mail me and let me know who was lying about me. I threatened no one. And how can ya threaten someone with a picture? Even more, a picture I didn’t even attach to the e-mail?
The e-mail you sent stated what was said about me was “a gross exaggeration.” If y’all knew that, why even e-mail me? When I asked our operating president what she’d have done if I admitted I’d actually threatened someone with a picture of a gun, her response was, “Tell you to quit it!” That’s IF I did it, which I didn’t. How silly is that? [Reminds me of the E.R. nurse. What’s the point of all this?]

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE BOARDS]

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]Kelly to the Boards: <start> I asked my husband to take my sidearm with him just now when he left the house. [I was feelin’ the suicidal itch.] I just called my psychiatrist for an appointment. [I was feelin’ the suicidal itch.] My emotional distress is code-red. [I was feelin’ the suicidal itch.] Your Grace, I hold you responsible; and your Board Members. You said as far as you’re concerned, this is over. Guess what? As far as I’m concerned, it’s just started. “The Lord is my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the name of the Lord, Who is worthy to be praised. So shall I be saved from my enemies.” 

[NO RESPONSE FROM THE BOARDS] 

Sheesh! I’ve seen more compassion from strangers out in the World. And I checked those days I couldn’t function. Some of those Board members were on Twitter congratulating themselves for writing 4k words that day, excited about seeing grandbabies, etc., while I was in a living hell. It sickens me.   The publisher called me to apologize. I was … mad at said publisher, and refused to ever work with them. When the publisher apologized, I accepted with happiness, and we said we’d forget the entire incident, and work with each other in the future. So, I wrote the Boards yet again.

[Pulled from the actual e-mail]   

Kelly to the Boards: <start> As for ACFW, I’m more than disappointed. Your blatant disregard for my feelings as a member, and as your Agent of the Year, trouble me. This complaint was absolutely ludicrous. Your advisors at Mt. Hermon should’ve stopped the gossip IMMEDIATELY, as a Christian would do. I don’t know most of them, but I know at least one who knows me to be a person of honor. Yet no one defended me. No one had my back. I don’t tolerate gossiping. I speak out and put a stop to it, or I leave the room. I believe none of what I hear, and half of what I see. I’ve contacted many conference attendees to glean information which y’all denied me, including major editors. All are appalled.
 
Your Grace, you couldn’t put your personal feelings for me aside and do your job impartially. In my opinion, you shouldn’t be on the Board. This never should’ve gotten past you, and on the operating president, who y’all threw under the bus. Next time ya wanna shoot me with a venomous dart, man-up and do it yourself. I don’t know what your damage is. What did I ever do to you but sign an author you asked me to help, and go to the mat for her time and again? After all I did for that client, whom you’re supposed to love, I’d think you’d show me more courtesy. 
 

[Removed some paragraphs for privacy reasons. Be on eBay later….]  

Your Grace, I hold you responsible for the strangling torment I’ve went thru since I received that first letter, and the leftovers I’m still struggling with even now. I’m sure you don’t care how I feel about you, and that’s fine. But if I hear you’ve spread rumors about me, or any board member has, I will care. Count on it. I’m not afraid of you. Authors are like actors: They come and go. Even the ones in the loftiest positions fall. [Ask Tom Cruise and Harrison Ford.] Ah, but their agents are still workin’. There will always be writers who need an agent. [Well, it’s true!]I think you and the advisors who were involved in this fiasco owe me an apology. I’ll live if I don’t get it. [Good thing….] Y’all haveta live with yourselves, and answer to Jesus when ya meet Him, if ya don’t. My conscience is clear. I fought as instructed. I turned my enemy [the publisher] into my friend. Y’all look tarnished.  I won. <end> 

FYI: Did you know you can’t vote out the few [the Advisory Board] who are making decisions for the many? [Every member in ACFW.] [Eek! Sounds like a Socialist Government.] They have to die, quit, or the other four haveta vote ’em out. Unless … well, I know how I can oust Her Grace. Spoke to my Florida attorney, as I don’t know nothin’ ’bout nonprofit law. Steve asked me how much I was willing to pay, and what my expectations were. Hmm. [Making Her Grace squirm for a while: $5,000. Removing Her Grace from office: $10,000. Robbing Her Grace of a day without Twitter: Priceless.]  

Can’t believe it, but this post is already at 2,000 words. Looks like they’ll be a part 3, and no, I didn’t plan it for extra hits! I just wanted to include my e-mails so you could see the place I was in; the place they put me in. I didn’t like it. Still don’t. 

Here it is. What you’ve all been waitin’ for. How I went from ACFW’s “Agent of the Year,” to “Agent of the Yaw.” My rep and self-esteem got hammered, and as a person, I felt as if the ACFW board members kicked me to the curb like a moldy apple core [or insert your fave icky thing].

I’m gonna tell ya what I can prove via e-mail, and I might make a few comments [always in brackets, and bold], as I am, after all, me.

I loved ACFW. I thought they wanted to help writers. I wanted to help writers, so I’d fit in beautifully there. I’d just come off a bad experience with RWA, where they threw me off every loop simply because I went from writer to agent. I tell ya, I don’t know where the negative gray-matter people come up with these harebrained ideas like, “If a writer wants to ask other writers if an agent is bad, they won’t feel comfortable if they know agents are on the loops.“ [I coulda told ’em I was bad from the start, and stayed on the darn loops!] 

Before movin’ on to the ACFW issue, I’m gonna tell y’all some truths about me. They ain’t pretty. Why am I gonna do that? Because God has forgiven me, so I don’t need to have forgiveness from Man. Am I ashamed? Embarrassed? Yeah, but if what I spill helps one person, it’s worth it. If showing how disgustingly honest I am bolsters my argument in this situation, better. I’m “tellin’ all“ about me, so why lie about somethin’ lesser?

The only people who hide the truth, are those who are scared of it. Only Satan scares me.

And heeere we go.

My first suicide attempt happened at 12. I swallowed a bottle of aspirin and locked myself in my bedroom. I remember the ER nurse telling me I was lucky the ER was busy [in Arcadia, CA?], so they wouldn’t have time to pump my stomach. They were just gonna make me up-chuck 100 times instead. [Gee, thanks.] After that fun experience, the nurse said, “Now, don’t you ever do that again! It isn’t good for your liver.” [Okay, I’ll make a note of that. Sheesh! Anyone out there care to help an obviously troubled kid? Duh!] 

The next time I was more proficient. OD’d using my anti-depression meds. [My therapist was so mad, he said he’d stop seein’ me if I ever did that again. My shrink didn’t even call…] Apparently, the anti-depressants weren’t helping my depression problem because I’m wasn’t depressed [well, I am/was, but … never mind], I have Bipolar Disorder [undiagnosed until 2006]. More on Bipolar Disorder on another post.

Won’t go into suicide attempt number three; y’all get the drift. I think the only thing I’ve put my heart into and failed miserably at would be offin’ myself, so God must want me around. Yep, I’m definitely here to do His work. And I ain’t afraid to get my hands dirty, nor my nose bloody. [Captain Kirk, here, remember?] 

Let’s see, what else can I say to bare my soul? I’ll rush, as in true Italian form, I’m already runnin’ long. I declared bankruptcy after one of my marriages [the second one, I think]. I let one of my husbands [the second one, I think] abuse me mentally and physically. Yep, broken bones even. [Current hubby {he’s such a sweet man} knows better.]  

I dropped outta high school and “ran away“ from home. I was addicted to drugs, coke being my choice, but that’s expensive, so I had to make money somehow. I sold the stuff. No, not to elementary school kids, but still a criminal pursuit. Got attracted to Southern Comfort and Heineken [sometimes I hadta settle for Bud] Boilermakers, and pot, and smokes. [Hate me yet?] One day I told God I was done, [raised in the Pentecostal church, so I already knew Jesus] and with His help, never did those things again. No rehab, no AA, no patch. [What I really need is a patch for Trader Joe’s Reduced-Fat Cheese Puffs. Can’t kick those suckers!] 

Thirsty for more? Had two abortions, and slept with roughly 100 guys in my lifetime. [Found somethin’ I was good at, and used it to build self-esteem. Yeah, I know. What can I say? Duh!] I cheated on every boyfriend and husband I ever had except my last boyfriend and my current husband. [Sorry, guys.]  

I’m stubborn, loud, and opinionated. I also have a heart bigger than Alaska, a sense of humor (although sarcastic), have a burnin’ desire to help others, and if you’re loyal to me, I’ll die for ya. [Actually, I’d die for a stranger, but I’d feel better about dyin’ for a friend….] I’ve done about every rotten thing imaginable. But guess what? Jesus died for me so I could still go to Heaven, and that’s where I’m goin’, and I wanna take some people with me.

I have no patience for judgmental Christians, Christians who put themselves above others, and Christians who belong to cliques. I don’t have time to listen to preachy Christians, who in my opinion, do more harm than good. Example: “You’re a sinner and you’re goin’ to burn in Hell if ya don’t turn to God immediately and REPENT!“ [Ah, yeah. I REALLY wanna be like THAT person….] 

I show the love of Jesus thru my works, and when people say, “I don’t believe you just did that for me—nowadays, people don’t do stuff like you just did,“ I answer, “I did it ’cause I’m a big-time, Jesus-lovin’ woman, and He told me to.“ AMEN!

If anyone still wants to have anything to do with me, I’ll start with how the ACFW situation occurred, but will haveta finish on the blog tomorrow, ’cause this post’s already one sin too long. [Sneaky, ain’t I? Just add that to my list of faults.] 

So, I’m sittin’ at my computer mindin’ my own businesses, when I get an e-mail letter from ACFW. The most relevant part is below.

[Pulled from the actual e-mail] 

As a corporation devoted to promote Christian Fiction through developing the skills of its authors, educating them in the market, and serving as an advocate in the industry, we grieve [I guess I need to send ’em a case of tissues. Sorry.] when we hear reports of one of our ACFW members who acts in a way out of keeping with those goals, who is rude or unkind, or behaves in a retaliatory way. [Ah, like some of your Board members? Sorry.]

Like it or not, word gets around in an industry that depends on word-getting-around. Because of word circulating at Mount Hermon [ah, that would be gossip at a Christian conference] about “an agent (affiliated with ACFW) who threatened a publisher with a picture of a gun,” [At this point, I had no clue what she was talkin’ about, and the news stunned and hurt me. And how could anyone threaten someone with a picture? “Stand back, or I’ll give ya a nasty paper cut you’ll never forget!“?] one of our advisors [ I’ll just refer to the person as ‘Her Grace’] contacted the publisher [not me, her organization’s Agent of the Year] for the truth about the situation. The publisher was honest and said the initial rumor was a gross exaggeration [then why did they send this letter?] but the reality wasn’t comforting. [Huh? The reality was that the rumor wasn’t true! Not comforting was that they still acted like the rumor WAS true.] We haven’t heard your side of the story. [Because they never asked me for my side of the story.] You may or may not want to share it with us, but I’m here to listen if you do. Even if the incident were in jest, though, [Wasn’t even “in jest.” Wasn’t a threat in any form.] it didn’t show the level of professionalism expected within the industry, from an ACFW member, or from someone who follows in Christ’s footsteps.[Take a look in the mirror. And, no, I ain’t sorry for that one.]

It’s our joy and heart to offer complimentary ACFW membership to agents and editors who agree with our statement of faith [I do.] and follow the Lord in their business practices. [I do.] We are protective of His Name, our reputation [just not mine], and our membership. You’re one of the ACFW members we want to protect. [Ah, actions speak louder than words. Never, to my knowledge, did anyone try to protect me.] But we can’t defend vengeful responses [pointing out I have a fave pic isn’t vengeful. C’mon!] and must hold our corporation and its members [just not the Board members] to a high standard of conduct. [Somebody stop meh!] 

As stated, I had no idea what she was referring to. The only things I’ve threatened with a firearm are rattlers and my stalker. [Oh! I haveta tell ya about the Valentine gift he sent … on another blog. He, he.] I dug for an hour, and finally found the “threatening“ e-mail. Be prepared to laugh, although it ain’t funny. [Well it is, but you know what I mean.]

[ Pulled from the actual e-mail] 

Publisher: “Let’s try to connect at ICRS [another Christian conference]. I’d love to meet you and see what an Italian Extreme Agent looks like :-)”

Kelly: “If ya wanna see what I look like, there are pics of me on my site. My fave is the one where I’m holdin’ a rifle in one hand, and a dead rattlesnake in the other!”

Wow! What a threat. Bet that publisher locked all the doors that night. I didn’t even attach the picture to the e-mail. Can anyone tell me how that was a threat?  This is just the tip of the iceberg [never use that line; it’s a cliché], so I urge you to join me again tomorrow for the continuing saga. 

Welcome to My Worlds… 

Exciting news on my newsletter soon. Still tyin’ up some loose ends. Sign up at www.mortimerliterary.com

The dreaded bailout has passed the House, but not the Senate. My first question is: What the heck is President Bush thinkin’? I’m pleasantly astonished that a few conservatives finally found their backbones and told him, “No!” Sheesh. You’d think he was a liberal the way he spends our money. I give him points on protecting us, and that he’s pro-life, but his reckless spending [to me, anything that doesn’t haveta do with the military], and his comments on the Bible don’t make him my favorite president. Are we ever gonna get a true conservative to vote for? [Sorry, my clients need me.]

This is insanity gone rampant. Don’t the idiots [pardon] that run GM and Chrysler realize they’re being NATIONALIZED? Does our government seek to run everything? [Actually, if you think like the liberals, the answer is yes, as they know what’s best for us. And, oh, we need them to take care of us.]

First, the banks/mortgage companies. That frosts me, as the bleepin’ Democrats forced sub-prime loans down their throats, then what happens? People can’t pay, and the government has to bailout the industry. Pardon, WE bailout the industry. It’s our tax money. [Wonder where all that money already appropriated for the banking industry disappeared to?]

As for the car manufacturers, what a joke. Guess what? This really isn’t a bailout for the automakers; it’s a bailout for the UAW (United Auto Workers Union). They don’t wanna lose their bloated concessions. Do you realize that automakers have to pay pensions after union workers are dead? When they can’t work? How high their wages are? (Approximately 70 bucks an hour for a line worker, including benefits.) The Japanese get $45; in India, $19.00 an hour. What about the suits? Roughly 20 million a year [I bet those suckers get free cars too.] I saw Norma Rae, but this is ridiculous [the bad connotation].

Add to that the libs and the environmental fascists put so many restrictions on our automakers, it’s no wonder they’re in trouble. What with the CAFE standards (Corporate Average Fuel Economy), which tells Detroit the MPG they should get for the types of cars they sell, I’m shocked they didn’t ask for a handout sooner. Now the Democrats wanna have a “Car Czar” oversee the industry and control the money. Want Nancy Pelosi tellin’ you you haveta drive a Yugo, right before she takes off in a gigantic military plane? [Where are those terrorists when ya need ’em. Yes, that was a joke … kinda.]

Will it end? GM and Chrysler said they need $14 billion to operate through March 31. We’re lookin’ at up to 25 billion to start. Since they’re losin’ about 2 billion a month, this bailout is milk money. It’s usin’ a Band Aide for a decapitation. No. No! NO!

What about the foreign automakers? They get a free ride. [You know, the companies that assemble cars here, so you really aren’t buying a “foreign” car.] They aren’t unionized, so they can afford to sell their cars for less money. I don’t care if I had two broken legs and a broken arm. I’d use my good arm to drag myself down the road before I’d buy a foreign car. [Yes, I had a 7-series BMW, but that was when I was in my 30’s, young and stupid. FYI: If anyone sees me drivin’ that KIA Minivan, it’s a rental. Driving it is my punishment for killin’ the Silver Bullet, may she rest in peace.]

Look, I don’t want a bunch of people out of work, but this can’t be helped. We have a system for businesses that can’t make a go of it—it’s called bankruptcy. Oh, but the automakers are too big. We can’t afford to lose them! That doesn’t mean they go out of business, they just have to reorganize and get leaner and meaner. Nearly all the major airlines went through bankruptcy. Gone on a trip recently? Gee, somehow we still have airplanes to fly us places.

What about the publishing industry? I don’t see the government charging in to stop layoffs there. And the newspapers. [Actually, the leftist papers are getting’ what they deserve.] But, seriously, don’t the liberals care about writers? Editors? Agents? Truth is, no one bails our businesses out. Yeah, some of the problems stem from idiotic policies and the UAW, but some blame falls on the suits as well. Either way, I don’t think they’re entitled to my money.

We need to lose CAFÉ standards. We need to lose our Democrat-controlled Congress. We need to lose the corrupt union bosses—all of which are strangling the industry.

That’s it for now. This makes me ill, especially that some Republicans are for the bailout.

President Bush, ya done us wrong!

K. – “The Crazed Conservative”

Ode to Obama

(Sung to the theme songs [one at the beginning of the show, one at the end] from Gilligan’s Island)
Lyrics by Kelly Gottuso Mortimer
Copyright 2008

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started with the “Messiah,”
Who’d make the Clintons flip.

The mate was a mighty speakin’ man
Whose words were brave and sure,
Fifty-two percent would vote that day
For a three-year Sen-a-tor.

A three-year Sen-a-tor. [Sound of thunder: Crack!]

The economy started getting rough,
Dow averages were tossed
If not for the courage of a fearless man,
The U.S. would be lost.

The U.S. would be lost.

The Weather Underground had a man in this
Who’d reach across the aisle—
With Reverend Wrighhht, the ACORN crew,
Plus William Ayerssss, and his wife
Rez-ko, Rashid—the Professors and Farrakhan,
Hear the liberals sighhh.

So, this is the wail of conservatives—
“They’re here for a long, long time.
We’ll have to make the best of things,
It’s an uphill climb.”

The First Lady and Joe Biden too,
Will do their very best
To make Obama comfortable,
While on his hairbrained quest.

No coal! No oil! No motor cars! Not a single luxury,
Like Marx is spreadin’ wealth, oh, it’s primitive as can be.
So join us in four years my friends; you’re sure to get a smile,
’Cause Palin’s gonna win the day; the Libs are in denial!

K. - “The Crazed Conservative”

SAXBY WINS IN A LANDSLIDE! No super-majority for the dems. in the Senate. Thanks to all who donated to goptrust.com! 

Promise #2 - Broken: Raise Taxes on the “Rich”

There is a God. Looks like all us “rich folk” get a reprieve for now. I know, all you poor people lookin’ for a handout counted on Obama spreadin’ the wealth, but here’s a newsflash:

WASHINGTON – An economic crisis, rising joblessness and a credit squeeze can make a president-elect refine his words. Today’s word is “repeal.” During his presidential campaign, Barack Obama promised to repeal President George W. Bush’s tax cuts for the wealthy [GRR.] ahead of their scheduled expiration in 2011.

It was part of how Obama would pay for an overall net tax cut aimed at low- and middle-income taxpayers, and an effort to bring what he called “fairness” to the tax system.

No one is talking tax hikes now.

Over the weekend, Obama said he has charged his new economic team with devising a plan that would create or preserve 2.5 million jobs over two years. He said the plan would include broad spending plans as well as the middle- and low-income tax cuts he described during the campaign.

Aides later said the plan would not include any of the tax increases Obama, as a candidate, had said he would impose on taxpayers who make more than $250,000.

Asked Monday when those hikes might go into effect, Obama said, “Whether that’s done through repeal, or whether that’s done because the Bush tax cuts are not renewed, is something that my economic team will be providing me a recommendation on.” [But, I thought You had all the answers.]

If repealed early, Obama’s tax increase on the rich would have generated significant revenue, but not enough to compensate for the cost of his tax cuts. An analysis by the Tax Policy Center, based on January 2008 income projections, estimated that the increases would result in about $43 billion in revenue in 2009 and $45 billion in 2010. Those numbers would be smaller now, as the economy has lowered expected incomes.

Obama’s economic advisers say he will not propose any tax increases in the economic plan he unveils in January. It is to be focused entirely on job creation and economic recovery.

Okay, actually, here’s his “big idea.” Focus on Green alternatives for fuel, [Well, since he’ll stop offshore drilling, won’t touch ANWR, wants to bankrupt the coal industry, and reduce funding for nuclear power, he’d better think of something or a lot of people are gonna be awfully cold.] Also, get that infrastructure goin’. [States have already proven that doesn’t work. Guess Mr. Obama wants to learn from his mistakes.]

Promise #3 - Broken: Raise Taxes on Oil Companies