Bipolar Mama #SummerMustReads

A little light comedy? Not in this case! BZ Hercules delivers a dark comedy about co-dependent behavior and its far-reaching consequences.
Wallis is beautiful and smart, funny and sexy. Unfortunately, she suffers from bipolar disorder. She has difficulty managing her life, and even more when she feels life’s pressures due to her unpredictable illness.
Wallis’ daughter Janie is searching for her Prince, the man who is going to make everything right for her and give her the love she doesn’t get from her mother.
Bipolar Mama is voiced in parallel narratives, told from the points of view of each woman, spanning 20 years in Wallis’ life and a week in Janie’s. When their two lives merge at an intersecting point, will their paths converge or diverge? Will Wallis be able to clean up her act in order to ensure that Janie does not make choices she will regret?

Bipolar_Mama_2

EXCERPT

Chapter 1
Janie
When I was a little girl, my ambition was to meet a handsome prince and live happily ever after. It was no wonder that I would watch over and over and lip-sync the Disney movies, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Belle, and Cinderella. These were the epitome of “princess.” I had very little patience for the later Disney heroines—Jasmine, Ariel, and oh, please, Mulan. They totally lacked the elegance of the earlier girls.
When I was eight, we actually went to Disney World. I was so excited that I was going to actually see Cinderella’s castle and maybe meet her! I knew intellectually that it was an actress playing Cinderella, but at my age, it was kind of like the attitude I had about Santa Claus—probably doesn’t exist, but what does it hurt to believe?
Unfortunately, like many things in my childhood, this fantastical trip was destroyed by my mother. She complained that it was too hot and that the castle was too crowded. My father told her that it was Florida, it was supposed to be hot, and that since we came all the way here, it made sense to visit the castle, even if we had to wait in line for a bit. Daddy made reservations for dinner, at the late hour of nine o’clock, but Mother refused to go. She stayed in the hotel room while Marcy and I had our pictures taken with Cinderella and nearly fell asleep over a really expensive dinner. Daddy woke me up so I could walk back to the rental car while he carried five-year-old Marcy to the parking lot and to our hotel room. I couldn’t blame him for not carrying me; I was only eight and weighed nearly one hundred pounds.
When we entered the hotel room, it smelled horrible, like vomit. My mother had swallowed a bunch of pills and was sleeping deeply in her own puke. Daddy called the hotel concierge, who in turn sent up the Disney first aid squad (they had Mickey emblems on their shirts) to try to revive her. They stuck a pump in her stomach and got her to puke up more. From there, it was on to the hospital, where Daddy, Marcy, and I stayed by her bedside for a couple of days.
“I didn’t want to live, Eddie! I felt so alone. You all abandoned me!” Mother was at times horribly dramatic and overplayed many scenes of her life. Other times, she was so morose and withdrawn you just wanted to kill yourself along with her.
The funny thing about Mother was that she was incredibly beautiful—tall and slender, with blonde hair and blue eyes. My father was so taken by her that, at the age of twenty, he asked her to marry him. She was also twenty, and pregnant with me, so she eagerly accepted. My dad soon regretted marrying so young because my mother turned out to be nuts and he was ill equipped to handle her and the mood swings she presented.
Daddy was a construction worker; he was really handsome and built like a brick wall. His dark hair and blue eyes complemented my mother’s blonde fairness. He worshipped her when he first met her. She was a college student, studying art history with an education minor. He met her at the college she attended because he was part of a construction crew that was building an addition to the campus center. There was a huge hole in the sidewalk and my mother fell in it. Eddie Jones was working near the hole and he hauled her out. Very romantic, I always thought. To hear them tell it, on a good day, he put his arms under her fragile body and lifted her up. Their eyes met and he asked her name. “Wallis,” she said. This is where they would both laugh, because of some English king and the woman he loved that had the same names as they did. Daddy joked that he would definitely leave the throne for his Wallis, if he had a throne. But, if anyone had any kind of money, it was Mother. Her parents set Daddy up with his own construction company, which Daddy started small and expanded rapidly at a time when housing was booming. We lived pretty well, but my mother’s lunacy prevented us from enjoying ourselves. We walked on eggshells daily, never certain what was waiting for us when we came home from school: lioness or lamb.

Purchase Bipolar Mama here:

 http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007TBWS9O

About BZ Hercules

BZ Hercules is a necessary alias for another author who writes some very different books from what BZ does. Boring books. BZ is pretty much the fun side of the other author, and writes whatever she wants, when she wants.

How cool is that?

BZ is also a very serious editor/consultant who has a company called BZHercules.com.

BZHercules.com caters to the needs of the indie author. Visit them online to see what BZ is up to!

You can also find BZ at www.Twitter.com/bzhercules

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About the Author:

Hello from Hunter S. Jones. I am a writer & author living in Atlanta, GA. I make things up & write them down. Look for my best selling indie novel, September Ends, currently on Amazon.com. Cheers!

2 Comments on "Bipolar Mama #SummerMustReads"

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  1. avatar Larry Conley says:

    Under the guise of love, parents too often do dastardly things. A good friend of mine is even now supporting her husband while they take his slovenly, self-centered parents to visit their dying daughter. These two ne’er do wells are more concerned with their own pleasure and comfort, than they are in consoling their dying child. If I ever did such things, I would hope whatever gods may be would vaporize me.

    Great piece on a distressing topic.

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