<![CDATA[Books By Deanna - BLOG: Selling Books]]>Thu, 22 Jun 2017 20:29:16 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Thu, 22 Jun 2017 11:25:45 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog9814798“I Don’t Have Time to Read”   What Are You Doing Instead?
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My July and August Reading
   Last weekend at the Civil War Relic Show in Brandon, Mississippi, I talked to hundreds of people about books and reading. I can’t tell you how many…a lot...said, “I don’t have time to read.” Others said, “I like to read, I just don’t; I have too much to do.” Some said, “I don’t have time to read anymore.” That indicates a change; what replaced reading?
   I puzzled over that. These people were teens, college students, young parents, middle aged working folks, older parents and grandparents. One woman smiled and said, “Since I turned 90 and I’m the only one to work my garden now, I don’t have time to read anymore. Anyways my eyes is bad.” Okay, maybe I can understand that one. But everyone else? Why do you not have time?
   I guess I don’t buy into that excuse because my mother didn’t. Whenever my excuse for anything was “I didn’t have time” her response was, “What were you doing that was more important?” My mother didn’t believe anyone had “spare” time. Only time we chose how to use, and wasting anything, especially time, wasn’t allowed at our house.
   Mom wasn’t one to sit around. She was always doing something. She gardened, cleaned the house, did all the maintenance, cooking, took care of three kids, one with serious special needs. She crocheted, made jam, mended (as in patches on jeans and buttons), sewed, ironed, and even took in ironings. She visited sick neighbors, and was always in the kitchen when I needed her. She didn’t drive so she walked to the grocery store and brought the groceries home in the wagon. She looked after my grandma. Yet, she always found time to sit in her rocker next to the window and read. She believed we always had time. If you didn’t have time to do something, it’s because you chose to do something else instead. Time is something everyone has in equal measure.
   So when someone of any age tells me they like to read but don’t have time, I wonder what it is they are doing instead? Because mom taught me to do what needs doing when it needs it, and use my time wisely, I never didn’t have time to read. She didn’t read in her spare time. She read in her reading time. I’ve always had a reading time. It’s not the same time every day, it’s not scheduled. Who could do that? It’s just time I use for that purpose. Every day.  My life is a lot different than my mother’s life, but one thing that is the same for us is we do what needs doing when it needs doing, and we always make time for reading. 
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Mon, 19 Jun 2017 11:55:10 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog9473890What I’ve Learned about Bookstores That Authors Need to Know
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Full Circle Bookstore- Oklahoma City, OK
    I’m surprised how many authors read electronically. Especially since most authors want their own books on the shelf of the bookstore. I’ve been interested in this phenomenon and have half-heartedly studied the author-bookseller relationship for the past six years while marketing my books.
    Indie booksellers can be strong allies for an author. But, it means you have to be theirs. If they invite you into their store for a signing, and you tell their customers your books are available on Amazon, you’ll never be invited back.
    Authors need to realize Amazon is the number one competitor of Indie bookstores. Amazon has shut down more bookstores than anything else! In 2005 to 2007, across the country a bookstore closed every week. Currently there are only1664 independent bookstores in the U. S.
    While Indies can be an author’s ally, Amazon is not. Every program Amazon has in place hurts the author. Everyone asks, “Is your book on Amazon?” As if it’s a mark of great achievement. Anyone can put anything on Amazon. Being on Amazon doesn’t mean your book is good. It just means it’s sold on Amazon. It’s nothing more than a shopping convenience, and for an author, it’s a costly convenience. Amazon isn’t paying you to advertise for them, so why do you? Authors need to get in the habit of telling their customers their books are available wherever books are sold, and suggest they go to the bookstore first.
       If you know a local bookstore takes online orders, offer to become an affiliate. The bookstore will love you for it and carry all your books. This involves putting a buy now button on your website that links to the bookstore. You can see some on my book pages. Many bookstores don’t do online sales, but making the offer goes a long way to sealing the relationship.
      When I’m on the road and see a bookstore in a town I’m traveling through, I stop. Usually I buy something. I give them my business card and catalog; I invite them to go to my website and see the books. When they go to my website they know immediately that I’m an indie supporter because they see the SIBA and indie symbols and the indie finder button is front and center. They know I care and support them. Otherwise, why should they care about me? I’m just another author –  and they know about a hundred.
      On a civic note, when you spend $100 locally, about $68 stays in your community. If you spend $100 at a national chain, maybe $43 stays in your community. If you spend $100 at Amazon, zero comes back to your community. A successful bookstore is a strong indicator of community values. I believe every author should buy their reading from a bookstore. Amazon doesn’t need you. Your community does. Your local indie bookseller does. And you need them.
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Thu, 15 Jun 2017 11:58:36 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog8921853What I’ve Learned about Bookstores That Authors Need to Know
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Books Unlimited Indie Bookstore; Franklin, NC
    I’m surprised how many authors read electronically. Especially since most book authors want their own books on the shelves of the bookstores. I’ve been interested in this phenomenon and have half-heartedly studied the author-bookseller relationship for the past six years while marketing my books.
    Indie booksellers can be strong allies for an author. But, it means you have to be theirs. If they invite you into their store for a signing, and you tell their customers your books are available on Amazon, you’ll never be invited back.
   Authors need to realize Amazon is the number one competitor of Indie bookstores. Amazon has shut down more bookstores than anything else! In 2005 to 2007, across the country a bookstore closed every week. Currently there are only 1664 independent bookstores in the U. S.
   While Indies can be an author’s ally, Amazon is not. Every program Amazon has in place hurts the author. Everyone asks, “Is your book on Amazon?” As if it’s a mark of great achievement. Anyone can put anything on Amazon. Being on Amazon doesn’t mean your book is good. It just means it’s sold on Amazon. It’s nothing more than a shopping convenience, and for an author, it’s a costly convenience. Amazon isn’t paying you to advertise for them, so why do you? Authors need to get in the habit of telling their customers their books are available wherever books are sold, and suggest they go to the bookstore first.
    If you know a local bookstore takes online orders, offer to become an affiliate. The bookstore will love you for it and carry all your books. This involves putting a buy now button on your website that links to the bookstore. You can see some on my book pages. Many bookstores don’t do online sales, but making the offer goes a long way to sealing the relationship.
     When I’m on the road and see a bookstore in a town I’m traveling through, I stop. Usually I buy something. I give them my business card and catalog; I invite them to go to my website and see the books. When they go to my website they know immediately that I’m an indie supporter because they see the SIBA and indie symbols and the indie finder button is front and center to help my readers find their nearest indie store. Booksellers know I care and support them. Otherwise, why should they care about me? I’m just another author –  and they know about a hundred.
   Another reason to shop indie, when you spend $100 locally, about $68 stays in your community. If you spend $100 at a national chain, maybe $43 stays in your community. If you spend $100 at Amazon, zero comes back to your community. A successful bookstore is a strong indicator of community values. I believe every author should buy their reading from a bookstore. Amazon doesn’t need you. Your community does. Your local indie bookseller does. And you need them.
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Mon, 12 Jun 2017 11:36:46 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog3604028The Bookstore, Come and Gone
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Bookish Book Store in Cashiers, NC
    Who doesn’t love a bookstore? Everyone says they do. Around 2005 America saw a staggering number of independent bookstores close. Everyone bemoaned the loss, while ordering their books online and having a love affair with their new kindle. It seems many readers don’t make the connection between the demise of the bookstore and their own habits. Oracles proclaimed the death of our beloved indies at the very hands of those who claim to love her. Around 2009, the indie bookstore seemed to grab a new toe hold, and held steady at 1400 across the country. As stores closed, new ones opened. There are currently 1664 independent bookstores in America.
    Early this year I was excited to learn a bookstore would open in our town. The closest bookstores for us are an hour away through the mountains, in three different directions. I visit them all.
   I hurried in to meet the new proprietor. She showed me around her newly remodeled building. She’d done amazing things over the winter. The lowest level was made into a parlor with wide windows opening unto the garden with soft chairs and fireplace. Her vision is a community room for book clubs and community groups, used at no cost. The tea bar is handy, where patrons can warm themselves on frosty days and share a cup of kindness. She set aside a nook for kids’ book clubs and crafts.  Fresh, wide shelves hold books for everyone, while she still unpacked inventory.
    She invested her life into the revitalization of the bookstore in our town. She booked me for her first signing event with my new book SPOKES, a triathlon story, to be signed on the day of Tour de Cashiers, a national level cycling event held annually in our town. It would be her grand opening. The morning of the event, the sun rose beautifully. I set up on her front porch to watch the cyclists.
    The sun shiny day was a huge disappointment. Locals chose to ignore the national event. The downtown was empty. Her grand opening was marked not by who came, but who didn’t come. No one from the local business community came to welcome her, even though she joined the Chamber and the after-hours community. No member of any local book club, including my own, came to celebrate a new bookstore opening. A member of one book club that’s featured weekly in the newspaper, had made several trips into her shop with ideas he wanted her to do for his book club, with never a mention of what he’d do for her. He didn’t show up for her grand opening. No school administrator, teacher, parent, or student came to see the new resource in our community. Ten guests came, all out of town tourists.
    After just a few months, and the “season” just starting in the mountains, we’ve lost our new bookstore. She’s done the accounting, weighed the costs, and the bottom line doesn’t support her vision of a sustainable business. I’m so saddened by this. Those who read their books on kindle probably won’t notice that she was here, and now she’s not.
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Thu, 08 Jun 2017 11:47:10 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog6558531Personal Come-uppins
    Last Monday’s miniblog could have a smug effect on me. You see, I didn’t use those diaper products, so the pile of poo doesn’t belong to me. However, smugness was short-lived. Diapers are only the third worst polluting product. The first are beverage bottles. This is my personal pile of poo. But, I love, just love, those little bottles of water! Their container brags they are the perfect size, and they are. For the first time in my life, I’m finally drinking the copious amounts of water recommended for optimum health. They fit in the cup holder of my car without spilling. They fit in my bookbag. Six will fit in the little cooler I carry to reenactments where more bottles are sold for $2. I take them everywhere! It’s not the product inside the bottle I’m buying. Our mountain water up here is the best money can buy. It’s the convenient bottle itself. I love those little bottles. I put them in the recycling tub, that’s good, right? Trouble is, most of them are made from recycled material rendering them nonbiodegradeable. Still, helps me feel more responsible. I drop an average of five of these a day into the bin. I probably contribute fifty a week. Times 52 weeks. My personal pile of poo.
    Whenever I write an opinion piece I hope it might affect a change. Not to change an opinion to jibe with mine, but to encourage contemplation, to wonder how one arrived at that opinion, perhaps look at it from a different point of view. It’s healthy for us to do that. And that’s what’s happened to me. I read my own opinion piece on the pile of poo, and accepted that I personally have contributed to this problem, not with diapers, but with my little water bottles.
    I need to change something. I’m going to keep using the convenient bottles since I’ve got a bunch, but I’m going to refill them with my tap water and use them until I wear them out and they leak. I might save the landfill about 2500 of these little bottles every year.
    It’s the little things, isn’t it? The things we take so for granted without thinking of the consequences. It’s personal stewardship. We’ve got to stop expecting others to take care of our poo. My water bottles are not the responsibility of the government, ours or any other. No one else should have to invest money or resources so I can enjoy the convenience of these little bottles. No amount of money, no number of governments, not our president or our neighbors are responsible for the number of bottles I discard. I am.
   We carry on about climate change and global warming brought on by emissions. We want governments to take care of this, write climate accords, blame the president. But the answer, my friend, is personal stewardship, thinking globally, and self-denial. When Self continues to be the center of everything we do, the collective pile of poo grows. Every person is the blame. Signing an accord will not change anything. It’s us who must change. We already know that. We don’t need a document to show us that. And a document will not affect that change in us. Only we, every single American, can accomplish that.
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Mon, 05 Jun 2017 12:32:45 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog6485373Climate Change
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A Pile of Poo
    Our president took a stand to remove our country from an accord which our legislative bodies hadn’t approved, and which he believes to be of no benefit for America. Do the complainers know more about this than those closely connected, scientists, and President Trump? For instance, have we heard from the fb politicians one reason we should be in it? Political Correctness does not count as a reason. What difference does it make who else isn’t playing? Does that make us a new club, are we now linked with them? No. They have their own reasons. Have any of you any idea what the document actually says or doesn’t say? You can read it. In two years what has it accomplished and at what cost?
    If you do your research you will see that even though others haven’t withdrawn formally, less than half have actually ratified their agreement. Easy enough to talk the talk.
    Climate Control. There’s a 20th century oxymoron for you. Climate control for us is A/C, central heat, rubber boots and an umbrella. And that’s as close as we get to controlling the climate.
    Emission control, which is confirmed to be ONE of the causes of the global warming is something we can do something about, and the U. S. has taken the lead in that. We’ve been controlling CO2 emission since 1982. Longer than any other country.
    Have the complainers been around the world and taken a look at what the rest of the world looks like? Europe is lagging behind the U.S. even though they’ve been in the Kyoto Treaty since 2005, and the U. S. has not. China overtook the U.S. in 2006 as the biggest emitter of CO2, while under the same treaty. 9 out of 10 people on the planet breathe polluted air, the mean global temperature is warmest in 1000 years and the level of CO2 in atmosphere is the highest ever. That’s what one set of experts say. Another set says there is less than 1 degree of temperature change since 1978 and no additional warming since 1998. While the rest of the world is reporting to each other on their failed treaty progress and making adjustments to their promises, the U. S. is the only country that has actually produced any improvement. Without a treaty.
    Pouring resources into foreign governments to fix this isn’t the answer. The source is ourselves. If every country does what they say, and do what’s right for their country, together we might accomplish something. Obviously a treaty has little effect on human virtue.
    So here’s what I’m proposing, women. You showed your power last January, so how about it, let’s save the planet.
    Landfill gases do have an effect on climate change. CO2 and methane; methane is 25X more detrimental to the atmosphere than carbon dioxide. Landfills are the 3rd largest source of methane in the U.S.
    In our landfills we have 7.6 billion pounds of nonbiodegradeable garbage, enough to stretch to the moon and back nine times – every year –  that comes from “disposable” baby diapers. The 3rd largest consumer item in our landfills, overplayed only by newspapers, beverage & food containers. 95% of American babies use 27.4 billion single use plastic diapers annually. Each baby, over a two-year period uses 2000 pounds of “disposable” diapers, a ton of toxic waste. Most of them are disposed of while still filled with feces, not washed out. They will lay underground polluting and contaminating ground water with human waste. This isn’t the responsibility of governments.
    You can do this. Make a little hat out of the diaper. March to Washington and get as many thousand signatures as you can from moms who will promise to not use these every day. If the landfill reduction is significant, sign on for a second year. It’s easy to talk to the talk, but not so easy to walk the walk, is it?  Not so easy to assume some responsibility. Much easier to make it a government problem. Especially since you decided last November to rail against everything the president does, even if it’s for the good of the country.
    We’re talking about your convenience. Your time. Washing, drying, folding, having to change the baby often, with the convenience right there by the crib, pull it out, put it on, toss in the garbage. Forget how much it costs you to use these. Forget yours isn’t the only baby on the planet. Babies on welfare get “disposable” diapers, too. Forget the billions of taxpayer dollars to clean up after your family. That makes it personal.
    Trump knows human frailty. He knows the biggest problem is stewardship that can only be fixed with humility, self-discipline, self-sacrifice, and caring as much about the country as you care about your convenience, self-indulgence, immediate concerns, and righteous indignation to make our problem someone’s else’s responsibility. All the governments, all the money and effort in a world treaty will not make a difference until every person assumes stewardship.
     We can’t handle the polar ice cap, my friends, but we could do something about the landfill emissions that might make a difference. Go make a hat, let’s go. We might have to open a cotton mill in SC to produce nice cotton diapers so we can eliminate that pile of poo in the landfills. 
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Thu, 01 Jun 2017 07:00:00 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog4303378​My Brother’s Keeper by Bill Kassel
    I’m not a book reviewer but this book compels me to talk about it.  After 573 pages, I didn’t want it to end. And it doesn’t really, because this book, this novel, is sending me directly to the Greatest Book Ever Written, an annual best seller, The Holy Bible, for more reading.
   This is a story well-told, well-researched, easy to read, with fresh imagination, and beautifully written. This is a book for all readers, Jews, Catholics, and Protestants as well as non-believers. It’s history, it’s culture and politics. How many times while listening to gospels or Sunday School lessons or an old Charleston Heston biblical film, have you wondered what it was really like “back then?” How did they work, interact, what motivated them? All those different rulers all at the same time, so confusing, right?
  I feel like I’ve just walked hundreds of miles between little towns, through the verdant valleys and busy market places, watched merchants’ caravans coming and going on the trade routes, been in the homes of the Jewish people to observe their customs, their traditions and their way of life, to learn what the Romans were doing there and who those rulers were who weren’t even Jewish. What is a zealot, anyway?  This book gave me answers to questions I didn’t know I had! I feel kinship with traditions of the Jewish people that have passed down to become part of the liturgy of the Mass, in prayers, in gestures. It’s beautiful. And it’s fiction, folks! It’s not a historical treatise or catechesis or Torah or gospel.  But, as I said, well-researched, including the author’s sources of two Jewish historians of the time period who wrote accounts of the first three centuries of the church. The book doesn’t rewrite Scripture. It simply fills in some missing gaps, based on history and the tradition of the Jewish families and their faith in a very enjoyable read.
    The story is written from the viewpoint of James the youngest son of Joseph and his deceased first wife. James became the half-brother of Jesus. We meet them in the compound of his family, where they work and live and pray, enduring the politics of their time. Joseph is a highly respected, not poor economically, trusted by tradesmen for his honesty and observance. The family struggles with the first major plot change when young Mary’s father comes to visit Joseph with a most unusual request of the older man. The human worries of his sons, the petty grievances of his daughters-in law, the private jealousies and his own fears are overcome by the practice of their faith and their loyalty to family. It’s a testament to the strength of a family of faith. The interesting backstory of Joseph’s life before Mary, and Mary’s early life, the placement of key people in Jesus’ life, and the very probable reason not much is known about Jesus until he begins his life’s work, are all interesting ideas backed up by the history and social structure of the time. We learn much about the education and environmental impact on James, the youngest child of Joseph come late in life, whose mother died and who was raised by his father and other family members. James is ordained for the scholarly life and becomes a rabbi of distinction, James the Just. His position becomes important later in Jesus’ adult life.
    As I’ve said, I’m not a book reviewer, I’m not paid to review, and I don’t have the practiced skills to do a satisfactory report, but this I will tell you. Here’s a book you’ll be glad you’ve read; a book of substance, a book that will leave you wanting more. And you know where that can be found, right?
​Purchase the book:
​ https:/saintjoe.com/products/my-brother-s-keeper?taxon_id=107
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Sun, 28 May 2017 20:52:10 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog9642021Saint Simons Island Lighthouse
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Lighthouse and Museum on St. Simons Island, GA
   Who likes lighthouses? Who likes ghost stories? What about ghosts IN lighthouses?
    Last week I was two days at an elementary School on Saint Simons Island, one of the Golden Isles of Georgia’s lovely coast. Fascinated by lighthouses, I took some time to visit the island lighthouse, which is now a museum that also includes the keeper’s cozy house, and 129 steps of the iron staircase to the top of the lighthouse tower.
    The original tabby lighthouse and keeper’s residence were completed in 1810. In 1862, the blockade and invasion by Federal troops caused Confederates to evacuate the island. They destroyed the lighthouse so Federal troops couldn’t use the navigational aid. For the next ten years a tall cotton barn served as the navigational reference on maps for ships entering the harbor.
    A second lighthouse and keeper’s house was completed in 1872, overhauled in 1876, and restored regularly since. The lighthouse went under Coast Guard jurisdiction in 1939, and became fully automated in 1953, the year the last keeper retired.
Today the lighthouse continues in use as a navigational aid keeping boats entering the Saint Simons Sound centered on the entrance channel. Its light extends 23 miles over the water. The powerful Fresnel lens is one of only 70 in the U. S. that remain operational, 16 of those are on the Great Lakes, 8 of those are in Michigan. The rotating lens projects four beams and one flash every minute, all automated.
   A fun piece of the lighthouse history is that paranormal investigators have been there several times and claim to have collected electronic voice phenomenon. Multiple witnesses, including Coast Guardsmen while doing light maintenance, and the Svendsen family, keepers who lived there, claim to have heard the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. The Svendsen’s dog was frequently harassed by the resident ghost, believed to be the ghost of Frederick Osborne, a keeper who was murdered by his assistant. It’s believed he comes up the stairs to check his light.
    The house is cozy and comfortable. I found the lighthouse to be oddly melancholy, with a lonely echo in the tower with every step I took. Though it overlooks St. Simons Sound, water parks, playgrounds and a busy green park, after climbing to the top, looking down one can still sense the remoteness of the early keepers and their families who had to be completely self-reliant. The ferry to the mainland only operated in the summer months and none of what is now, was here.
    I also discovered a story waiting to be written about Helen and Carl Svendsen, their dog Fritz, and their parents, the lighthouse keepers, and, of course, the ghost of Osborne. To be read in a tent on a dark night on the beach, watching the beam of light, listening for the echo of footsteps on the tower stairs.     Coming up next.
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Thu, 25 May 2017 11:37:08 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog3115550Immigration. My Opinion. Part Two

Learning to Shut the Door
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Long May She Wave Over Those Who Love America More Than Self
    We used to order pizza and invite our delivery guys in, tip them and even offer them a Coke. By the time he left, the kids knew his name, my husband knew where he went to school, and I knew what country he was from. Then, there was a murder in Atlanta. A pizza delivery guy; Syrian, if I recall. He stabbed the infidel who’d ordered pizza. All our neighborhood now left money on their porches and told dispatchers to leave the pizzas on the porch. Delivery guys weren’t welcomed into our homes anymore.  
  Good-looking Mormons came into our neighborhood a couple times every month. I was often outside in the garden when they came. I stopped working, sat on the ground and listened to them. They were fulfilling an obligation to their group and they were courteous, All-American type kids, like the Osmonds. I gave them ice water while they talked, and I took a little work break. I never argued with them, but when they left I told them I would pray for them. The neighbors shook their heads at me behind curtains where they hid whenever the cult showed up. One day it started to rain. I headed inside; I invited them in. When they entered the foyer they passed our family altar and a crucifix on the wall. One of the group had some things to say about that. The girl tried to shush him, but to no avail. He was rude and disrespectful. I asked them to leave; he got belligerent. I never allowed any onto my property again, inside or outside.
  There is a time when lack-of-hospitality is appropriate. When our personal safety or the safety of our family or home is at risk, when our faith is attacked, we have a right, a duty, and a responsibility to shut the door against the perpetrators.
    All Americans are at risk now, partly due to our country’s extreme hospitality. The U.S. has been Dolly Madison to the world. But now it’s time to shut the door. Not forever. But, until we have a better system of knowing who is in our homeland and why, it’s necessary for health and safety. That’s true for other countries in the free world, as well. I remember my first trip to London; how I loved that city. The next time I went, London was filthy. The city streets were littered with chicken bones. Greasy chicken bones were everywhere, food and grease on the sidewalks, packaging collecting in the gutter. Apparently in some eastern countries this is acceptable behavior, and there were now a significant number of immigrants from those countries residing in London, enjoying the Londoners’ hospitality. Instead of adjusting to their host’s standards of health and aesthetics, they demanded their own standards, which involved eating while walking and dropping the garbage, as well as disrespecting London’s women. Time to close the door, London! Germany, known for clean, safe cities, now deals with graffiti, rape, and murder as a way of life, in thanks for their hospitality. Abuse of the country and the laws of that country, bringing hate and distrust, committing crimes and murder, and no wish to assimilate into the host country’s culture, means it’s time to shut the door.
    For centuries immigrants have come into our country searching for a better life, looking for freedom and safety. They brought wondrous gifts of diversity to our country. With great pride they became part of the melting pot and were grateful for U.S. citizenship. There are still some of those immigrants wanting in. They are the ones who respect our immigration laws and wait in line, sometimes many years, while trying to learn our language and culture. Those who enter illegally disrespect the law of our land before they even move in! To be sure they get to stay, they do something illegal, like shop lift, or beat up their girlfriend, steal hubcaps, and be sure to get caught. Now, they are in the legal system, awaiting due process. They will stay, because our current system rewards illegals who break the law. I’ve been in the immigration courtroom and observed deportation hearings. I’ve seen how this works. Once they are here, we are too charitable to remove them. It’s time to shut the door.
    Illegal immigrants take money and resources that are needed to take care of our own citizens and to help legal immigrants get started. And add to that, today many illegals enter our country with the sole purpose of doing harm. They have no intention of becoming an American or even respecting the laws or flag or people of America. While we are angsting over the inhumanity of deporting illegals, we do nothing to prevent them from entering! This is wrong-headed charity. We are aiding and abetting lawlessness! It’s time to shut the door.
    Christians who practice charity take their directive from scripture; we can continue doing that. There will always be need of our charity. But, our President takes his directive from the Constitution. And his #1 directive is to keep our country safe. To do that, he must enforce our laws, deport all illegals, and prevent entry of illegals. We must help those who wish to be law-abiding American citizens. To do that, we must shut the door and know exactly who is coming in. That’s not uncharitable. It’s not anti-Christian. It’s responsible. Every American and legal immigrant has a right to that protection. When this citizen says it’s time to shut the door it’s not because I’m a racist, bigot, phobic, or a hater. It’s common sense. It’s American. 
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<![CDATA[Mini-Blog]]>Mon, 22 May 2017 11:21:10 GMThttp://booksbydeanna.com/blog-selling-books/mini-blog6141202Immigration. My opinion.
Part One: Embracing Diversity
    I’ve always had an interest in people from other countries and cultures. As a child, my favorite source was National Geographic, and my favorite books were by Kate Seredy, set in Hungary. My aunt’s husband was Hungarian, and another aunt married a Greek who taught me to recite the Greek alphabet. My Sunday school teacher, whom I adored, was from Holland. I begged her to teach me to “talk Dutch.”  I sewed ethnic costumes for my dolls and copied colored flags from Encyclopedia. When I registered for college I requested an international for a roommate. She turned out to be from Salt Lake City, but since I’d never been farther west than Chicago, it was just as exotic.
    As an adult, I filled our home with a variety of cultures. We had exchange students living with us for several years while the kids were growing up. They came from Japan, Spain, Venezuela, Columbia, Germany, France, Australia, Mexico, India, and probably other places I’ve forgotten. A Filipino family lived in our home for seven years; we looked after their education, and sent the boys to universities. They’ve all become proud and patriotic U.S. citizens and part of our family.
    When I worked in downtown Atlanta and rode the bus to the Marta station, I met a young man from an African country who was a student at Georgia State. We visited every day on the bus. My kids weren’t at all surprised to come home from school and see this ebony-skinned man sitting at the table eating their after-school brownies, while I folded laundry at the table. He stayed for supper.
We often hosted overnight guests as a hospital host family before Ronald McDonald Houses. Trucks and old cars from out of state were often in our driveway. We gave up our beds to the poor, worried families with sick children.
    My neighbors in the cul-de-sac in Sandy Springs, GA, would say, “NOW who’s at your house?” They called our house “The Klingel I-Hop,” and joked about putting a revolving door in our front door. I created international programs for Scouts and schools almost as a hobby, took Girl Scouts to Europe twice, and learned international folk dancing and needlework.
   I remember when Vietnamese immigrants regularly landed at Hartsfield with a look of wonderment that we greeted them with applause and handed them little flags. More tired, poor huddled masses. Years later I would write a biography of one of them.
   Retired here in the mountains we housed internationals who came here to work for the summer. They were mostly from Eastern European countries, where I hope to visit someday.
    My life has been enriched by the art, architecture, music, language, history, poetry, literature, clothing, and style that have come to our country from far-away places. Our nation has been blessed to have been a nation of immigrants. I love to meet diverse peoples and extend hospitality. I don’t do marches, boycotts, or protests; I just live it; the sharing excites me.
    But, I’ve learned there are times to shut to the door. I’ll tell you about that on the next mini blog.
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