Raising the Question of Autism Causes by Ginger Simpson

My sister shared a story with me last night which got me thinking...something my Dad shared with her when she was pregnant with her third child.  She had never had a sonnegram (ultrasound) with either of her first two and was about to have one with her third.  My dad, who has passed) shared with her his experiences of ultrasound since he worked with chemical companies who used the process.

Gwenn, was on her way to the doctor and mentioned her intention with Dad.  He simply said, "you don't need one."  When she questioned him, he asked her if she knew what ultrasounds were used for in his line of work.  Of course, she didn't, and he told her companies used ultrasound in huge doses to break down corrison in jet engines and steel containers, among many other things.  He asked her to imagine what even a small dose could do to a small, forming brain. At higher power levels, ultrasound is useful of changing the chemical properties of substances.

She didn't take his advice and had an ultra-sound.  Her third child  was born with a distinctly different and withdrawn personality.  Since I have an autistic grandson and his parents have tried all types of things:  gluten free diet, epsom salt baths, deleting different things from his diet, etc, and nothing has worked, I'm still curious why Autism is on the rise and no one seems to have an explanation.  I don't believe the condition is even prevalent in countries where they do not have ultrasonic technologies.

The moral of this story is that my dad forecast that in 30 years (which it has been), there would be tons of children with something wrong with them, and no one would know how it happened or why?  You may find women who had ultra sounds and perfectly healthy children, but can anyone tell me they know of a woman with an Autistic child who  DIDN'T have an ultrasound...or in some cases, many of them?

My sisters and I are all in our sixties.  None of us remember children who had the symptoms of autism and ultra sounds weren't done during my child bearing years.  I thought this was very interesting and I wanted to share.  It never hurts to make people think...and when you figure how often ultrasounds are done these days, could there be a coorelation?

Let me know your thoughts.

Here's the link to a video you can watch about how ultrasound cleans metal: www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlDCNE0ISgA

Oh....and BTW, my dad was brilliant.

Friday Freebits with Ginger Simpson #frifreebits

THIS WEEK FROM CULTURE SHOCK:

Note:  Despite faulty wiring and an interruption to their dinner, Cynthia and Alex had an enjoyable time.  Someone was watching.  Have you figured out who?

Lurking in the shadows had become his habit. He ducked around the corner and waited for the man she called Alex, to unlock his door and slip inside. He grew tired hanging around outside her apartment, straining to hear their conversation and hoping no one saw him. They'd had quite a time tonight, the two of them. He'd heard enough to know that he'd have to make his move soon. She was just too charming for her own good.

***

Cynthia opened her eyes and thoughts of the previous night flooded her mind. Her mouth curled into a smile thinking of Alex, and she hugged herself beneath the covers. The faint aroma of his aftershave lingered on her hands, so she knew the evening hadn’t been just a dream.

Rays of sunlight filtered through a separation in the curtains. Cynthia pulled an arm from beneath the blanket and swatted the dust motes dancing along the beam of light. She couldn’t wile away time in bed all day with her thoughts lingering on time spent with Alex, so she threw off the covers and stood.  Her body‘s impression remained in the sagging mattress, but for some reason, she found nothing to complain about. Instead, she wanted to dance with glee. A little voice inside niggled her that maybe he hadn’t shared the same feelings.

She shook her head with vigor. “I’ll not feel any negativity today,” she proclaimed, and grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed. She pulled on the chenille garment and meandered into the kitchen. While filling the pot with water and measuring out the grounds, she kept focus on the end table where the telephone sat. Every minute that ticked by without hearing his voice was torture. She rolled her eyes at feeling so invested in someone after such a short time.  Was she being an idiot?

While waiting for her morning brew to finish, she washed, dried, and put away the leftover dinner dishes. She poured herself a cup of coffee and moved into the living area. Even the dingy furniture held more appeal this morning, and Alex's seductive aftershave lingered more heavily around the dilapidated sofa. She sat on the same cushion where she had sat last night and pretended he still sat next to her. "Girl," she chided herself, feeling like a foolish schoolgirl, "you are one sick puppy. Get a grip and drink your coffee! Maybe the caffeine will shock you back to reality."

She sipped from the hot liquid and slopped a little on her lap when the ringing phone startled her.  She ignored the burning sensation in her hurry to answer.

“Hello." Her heart race while she blotted the soggy spot on her robe and massaged the sting on her thigh.

“Good morning. This is Alex. Hope I didn't wake you." His sexy voice raised goose bumps on her arms.

Cynthia's heart skipped a beat. "Oh, Hi Alex! No, you didn't wake me." She tried to suppress the excitement in her voice. "I've been up for a while. I was just sitting here having my morning coffee." She stopped short of adding she was thinking about him and praying he‘d call. Curling her legs up beneath her robe, she waited through a lengthy pause.

"I called to thank you again for last night. I had a great time."

"Me, too. It was probably the best Saturday night I've spent in quite a while." So ask me out already, she agonized internally. Please, Please, Please.

"And to think our date all started with an exciting trip to the trash dumpster." He laughed and she forced a chuckle to avoid being rude.  Was he calling to ask her out or just talk about garbage cans?  She thrummed her fingers on the coffee table while leaning her arms on her knees.

"Yeah! Did I remember to thank you for the personalized tour?" Cynthia forced herself to say something to end the silence.

"Not a problem. Always happy to help."

Another pause.

Funny, they hadn't had a communication problem the previous evening, so why did they both suddenly become tongue-tied? She struggled to think of something unrelated to trash to keep the conversation going. She had to. If he called to ask her out, she sure didn’t want him to lose his nerve?

"So, what are you doing up so early on a Sunday morning?" She wasn't about to let him hang up.

"Couldn't sleep. I can't quit thinking about the case I'm working right now, trying to piece it all together. Seems I always wake up early when I don't have to. Ticks me off! During the week, I have to drag myself out of bed, and here it is the weekend and I'm up with the sun."

Her curiosity piqued. "Are you by chance working on the case involving the missing women?"

"Yep, that's the one that keeps me up late and wakes me up early. What gets you out of bed?" Clearly, he wasn't going to discuss any details with her. Maybe that was a good thing. She didn't really want to hear anything that was bound to feed her fear.

"Oh, I've always been an early riser. It's the afternoons I dread. I tend to run out of steam around two-thirty. Gee, we make a great team. I can keep you awake in the morning and you can keep me from dozing in the afternoon." She rolled her eyes. He probably thought she was trying to hook him.

His laughter danced across the phone lines, and she imagined the twinkle in his eyes. "Are you offering to come over every morning and throw me in the shower?"

A image of his unclothed body flashed through her mind, and warmth climbed her neck. She swallowed hard at such out-of-character thoughts. "Only if..." She stammered, "you come by my office every afternoon and bring me strong coffee."

Available on my Amazon page.

Happy Birthday to Brett Next Jones

Today, my baby turns 40!  How can that be?  I'm only a few years older which is surprising because he's made more than a few hairs turn gray.   In fact, I've had my own personal expressway to the emergency room with him.  :)

Being mother to this child has been a wild ride.  First, he turned sideways, stuck out his hand, and I had to have a c-section.  I've seen that upturned palm most of his life, trust me.

He should be in Ripley's Believe it or Not for being the only person through whom you can see words pass through one ear and out the other.  This has been the path of most of our discussions.

He was a wonderful surprise, though, seeing as the doctors told us we would probably be the parents of only one child.  He and his brother are 8 years apart, so having Brett was like giving birth to a first child all over again.  I'd given away all my baby stuff, lost all the know-how I ever had, and despite having a normal delivery the first time of a baby weighing almost ten pounds, this one decided to make a grander entrance.

Why does he use "Next" in his name?  That was his father's attempt at humor for a name.  He always told me that if we used that moniker, and a salesperson said, "who's next?"  our son could step up and admit he was.  Of course, I didn't entertain the suggestion, but my son has added Next to his FB name in memory of his dad...but back to Brett.

How many of you have a child hit in the mouth with a horseshoe magnet?  Aren't those supposed to be good luck?  He "accidently" fell on a lincoln log and destroyed his throat...of course his brother's foot had nothing to do with why Brett tripped.  Has your son ever stapled his boot to his leg...entertained you while driving a truck of dead horses around with one teetering on the back?  (He worked at a rendering plant...he really doesn't slaughter horses.)  Did your son use your credit card to buy his friends gasoline?  Did your child cover a hole in the wall with a sexy poster that breathed when the wind blew?  Did he swear to the police he didn't own a BB gun then fail to explain why his bedroom screen was peppered with holes? Of course not.  I have the original and one and only.

 I could continue with the saga of his life, but this post would then become a book, so I'll stop here and simply add, I wouldn't change one thing about him...except maybe his stubborness, and I thank God every day for giving me Brett.

Happy Birthday wonder boy!

Believe it or Not! - Ginger Simpson

Ever have a question that you can't answer?  I do, and I'm hoping I get some answers today.

Why is it that those of us who write fiction held to believable standards when most television programs aren't?

I site a soap opera I've watched for years, General Hospital.  Examples:  Several of the main characters are in prison, and after being a correctional officer for a period of time, I'm amazed how they wander from cell to cell with nary a guard in sight.  Even more brazen, they seem to have smuggled in cell phones which no one seems to notice, though they make personal phone calls in the rec. yard and in their cells.  Where are the security cameras?  *lol*

Even more amazing, people seem to be held prisoner or get locked in basements, etc, yet never seem to have to use the bathroom.  For someone who can't venture far from mine these days, makes me wonder how they develop such bladder and bowel restraint.  *lol*

My dilemma doesn't just apply to my favorite soap...it's a fact in many tv programs.  If you're looking for believability, you aren't likely to find a lot of it.  Why then, do those who write contemporary fiction get held to higher standards and are more likely to get bad reviews than bad TV programming?

What ridculous things have you noticed on TV recently?

Writing is a Learning Journey - Ginger Simpson

I started my writing journey in 2002 and my first novel was published in 2003.  I thought it was awesome, but several years later, after many editing sessions and learning through critique groups and on-line classes, I shuddered when I read the finished product and realized the amateur mistakes I'd made.  Luckily, when my contract expired, I took my rights back and reworked the book, improving it.  Is it perfect?  No.  I still find things I wish I would have known and changed, but every book I write is better than its predecessor.

I highly recommend critique groups to help you hone your work and reviewing the writing of others has helped me immensely.  No, I'm not a know-it-all, but I sure recognize problem areas in books, and often wonder why their editors didn't suggest changes.  One I'm reading right now has me scratching my head over that very thing.  The story is very interesting and the author writes with great descriptions, but because I read with an editorial eye, I can't get past what I consider problem areas.

Several would disagree with me, but one publisher limits the amount of "internal" thoughts an author can use, and I understand why.  My first manuscript was fraught with them, but when i re-read the book, I realized switching from third to first person on a regular basis pulls the reader out of the story.  My preference is to have the internal thoughts posed as questions for the reader to ponder.  See which you prefer:

 I thought he was going to kiss me.  He's good with the girls, and I think he likes me, but he does seem worried about something.

 Her heart raced with hope he'd kiss he but he didn't. She earned only a brief hug on his way out the door.  He'd been so good with the girls and acted as though he truly liked her, but he seemed preoccupied. Should she worry?

IMHO, the flow is much smoother.

A second pet peeve for me is using unnecessary adverbs.  Why not just use stronger verbs?  For example: She ate her pancakes hungrily.  How about she devoured her pancakes?  Or...The dog barked viciously.  I'd prefer to have you show me the vicious dog.  The dog bared his teeth and growled deep in his throat.  The fur on his back stood on end.  Better?

My most recent lesson learned deals with eliminating needless verbiage and insulting the reader's intelligence. *smile*  If we, as authors, do our job, we put the reader into the character's POV, therefore it's unnecessary to continually indicate who watched, felt, sensed, saw, etc.  Example:  She watched him pour a drink.   If we've been in her POV, then it stands to reason she's watching what he does, so he can just pour a drink.  He meandered to the bar and poured himself a drink.  Another example:  She felt the cold air on her bare arms.  How about showing the reader?  Goosebumps peppered her bare arms.  She embraced herself against the cold air.

There's a rule in writing called RUE=resist the urge to explain.  Readers are intelligent and little things like "to him, at her, for him" are easily figured out. Example:  He read the article aloud to her.  If they are the only two in the room and he's reading aloud, then I think you get my drift.  Seems petty, but these are the things that jump out at me.

 I learned to eliminate"that" from many sentences because it's unneeded.  He knew that she would feel insulted.  He knew she would feel insulted, or even better, if at all possible, eliminate the "he knew."  Of course, she'd feel insulted if he...  Put the reader into the story and let him/her figure it out.  It shouldn't be difficult.

Word echoes show laziness.  Instead of using the same word over and over, consult your thesaurus and find something different.  No one likes redundancy.  Of course sometimes, using the same word over again is used for dramatic effect, and that's perfectly okay.

I've listed a few problem areas here.  Feel free to list your pet peeves in the comment area.  This is all about learning, and good authors never stop.  Teach me something new so I can pull out the rest of my hair.  :)