Twice in this month, I had the pleasure of speaking with Tony Serve of Perth, Australia, a presenter at Radio 6pr (6pr.com). I am awed by Tony’s commitment to the rights and dignity of all those who have been (and are still being) victimized by drug companies - a multinational industry which callously pumps tons of toxic waste into millions of unsuspecting citizens.
Unfortunately, the inappropriately drugged “mentally ill” are not the only victims in this ongoing conflict. For every person who is being misdiagnosed and over-medicated, there are parents and husbands and wives who love them and children who desperately need them, there are sisters and brothers who miss them, there are bosses and co-workers who must deal with lost productivity, there are mounting debts that ordinary citizens wind up paying through increased insurance rates or increased taxes or increased medical charges. One way or another, everybody loses - except the pharmaceutical industry.
In an economic environment where layoffs and firings and downsizings and closings have become the norm, this one industry - with its billion-dollar budget to spread around Washington DC - has increased its bottom line from $12 billion $69 billion in four short years!
The following video is the result of those two conversations I had with Tony:
http://tinyurl.com/mhuyfw
Copyright © 2009 by Pamela S. K. Glasner, All Rights Reserved
28 July, 2009
The Inalienable Human Right: The Right to BE
Katherine Spencer, Empath, on Patients’ Rights
(an excerpt from Finding Emmaus)
“Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to err in favor of patients’ rights a bit. I don’t know how much you know about the history of mental patient care, but most of what I’ve learned and all of what I’ve experienced would be enough to keep Hollywood up to their ears in horror films for a decade.
“Second only to the very young and the very old, there’s no easier target for abuse than the mentally ill. They have very few defenses and fewer advocates. Many times, particularly when they’re medicated, they have no way to express what’s happening to them, so they can’t even say something as simple as ‘Doctor, I’m having terrible side effects’ or ‘this isn’t working for me’.
Are you aware that as recently as twenty-eight ago, twenty-seven states in this country - our country! - were actively forcing surgical sterilization on Americans who were diagnosed as mentally ill?
And keep in mind: there’s no definitive test for mental illnesses like bipolar disorder. It’s all your doctor’s best guess based on the information available and accepted medical norms at the time. So, what if they were wrong? How many people were sterilized ‘accidentally’?
“Worse than that, a few of the governors of those states, though they have apologized, claim there’s no need to even consider compensation because the victims are mostly dead and, of course, there wouldn’t be any offspring to compensate! They actually said that - using the tragic results of their abuse as a means to evade responsibility. It’s despicable.
“The pendulum will probably swing way too far to this side for a while, but maybe that’s what’s needed - not to endanger anyone - even one more lost life would be a tragedy - but it’s got to stop.”
Copyright © 2009 by Pamela S. K. Glasner, All Rights Reserved
(an excerpt from Finding Emmaus)
“Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to err in favor of patients’ rights a bit. I don’t know how much you know about the history of mental patient care, but most of what I’ve learned and all of what I’ve experienced would be enough to keep Hollywood up to their ears in horror films for a decade.
“Second only to the very young and the very old, there’s no easier target for abuse than the mentally ill. They have very few defenses and fewer advocates. Many times, particularly when they’re medicated, they have no way to express what’s happening to them, so they can’t even say something as simple as ‘Doctor, I’m having terrible side effects’ or ‘this isn’t working for me’.
Are you aware that as recently as twenty-eight ago, twenty-seven states in this country - our country! - were actively forcing surgical sterilization on Americans who were diagnosed as mentally ill?
And keep in mind: there’s no definitive test for mental illnesses like bipolar disorder. It’s all your doctor’s best guess based on the information available and accepted medical norms at the time. So, what if they were wrong? How many people were sterilized ‘accidentally’?
“Worse than that, a few of the governors of those states, though they have apologized, claim there’s no need to even consider compensation because the victims are mostly dead and, of course, there wouldn’t be any offspring to compensate! They actually said that - using the tragic results of their abuse as a means to evade responsibility. It’s despicable.
“The pendulum will probably swing way too far to this side for a while, but maybe that’s what’s needed - not to endanger anyone - even one more lost life would be a tragedy - but it’s got to stop.”
Copyright © 2009 by Pamela S. K. Glasner, All Rights Reserved
23 July, 2009
Helping Others to Find Human Dignity ... and Shelter From The Storm
I had the pleasure of speaking with Tony Serve a second time regarding "Finding Emmaus', Empathy, Big Pharma and human dignity.
It's all here: http://ow.ly/i0Yw
I can't begin to say how grateful I am that Tony and I have become friends. I just love how passionate he is about my book and the message it's meant to convey.
We spoke of many things: what it's like to be an Empath, what it's like to be erroneously labeled mentally ill, what it's like to be the victim of a political and industrial machine so large and so well-funded that fighting it seems like a lost cause even before you get started.
"Finding Emmaus" is a multi-faceted story with twists and turns and many circuitous paths, but in the end it’s about one thing and one thing only: seeking - and helping others to find - shelter from the storm.
To learn more about Tony and his personal commitment, visit his blog at http://tonyserve.wordpress.com/ or follow him on Twitter @perthtones.
"Finding Emmaus" will be in the bookstores on October 1st and on Amazon.com in mid-September. You can reserve a signed first edition by clicking on the red link to the right.
It's all here: http://ow.ly/i0Yw
I can't begin to say how grateful I am that Tony and I have become friends. I just love how passionate he is about my book and the message it's meant to convey.
We spoke of many things: what it's like to be an Empath, what it's like to be erroneously labeled mentally ill, what it's like to be the victim of a political and industrial machine so large and so well-funded that fighting it seems like a lost cause even before you get started.
"Finding Emmaus" is a multi-faceted story with twists and turns and many circuitous paths, but in the end it’s about one thing and one thing only: seeking - and helping others to find - shelter from the storm.
To learn more about Tony and his personal commitment, visit his blog at http://tonyserve.wordpress.com/ or follow him on Twitter @perthtones.
"Finding Emmaus" will be in the bookstores on October 1st and on Amazon.com in mid-September. You can reserve a signed first edition by clicking on the red link to the right.
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
13 July, 2009
Talking About Big Pharma w/ Tony Serve
On Saturday, July 11th, I had the pleasure of speaking with Tony Serve of Perth, Australia, a presenter at Radio 6pr (6pr.com).
We discussed my upcoming book, Finding Emmaus, the pharmaceutical industry’s terrible abuse of those who are tragically labeled mentally ill and governmental agencies which so miserably fail to protect anyone.
I am so very impressed with Tony’s stand on the subject and his commitment to shine a spotlight on this vitally important issue which literally effects millions the world over.
Please follow the link http://tonyserve.wordpress.com then scroll down to Pamela Glasner talks about her new book Finding Emmaus, Empaths, Big Pharma and bi-polar and click on that.
Tony ROCKS!
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
We discussed my upcoming book, Finding Emmaus, the pharmaceutical industry’s terrible abuse of those who are tragically labeled mentally ill and governmental agencies which so miserably fail to protect anyone.
I am so very impressed with Tony’s stand on the subject and his commitment to shine a spotlight on this vitally important issue which literally effects millions the world over.
Please follow the link http://tonyserve.wordpress.com then scroll down to Pamela Glasner talks about her new book Finding Emmaus, Empaths, Big Pharma and bi-polar and click on that.
Tony ROCKS!
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
03 July, 2009
Funny thing happened on my way to becoming an author, part one
I was recently asked the question: Aren’t you giving up an intimate part of you when you write?
My answer? Yes and no.
OK … OK … I know … that’s no answer and it sounds like a cop-out. But the truth is, it is yes and no. Maybe I am giving something up. But then again, maybe I’m not.
It doesn’t feel as though I’m losing anything.
To my way of thinking, it’s feels more like digging way down deep inside and accessing it. Certainly, once my words are published, they will be shared with the multitudes - and, God willing, the multitudes will keep up their end of the bargain (my bargain, anyway!) and partake of the sharing - but I never think about that when I'm writing. I never think about what’s going to happen to my words later on.
I think if I gave that part of the process - what it might mean once my readers have my words in their hands and then in their minds and eventually in their discussions with each other … if I stop to consider my audience … I might be inhibited. My writing might be inhibited.
Oh, mercy, I hope that doesn’t sound self-aggrandizing! It’s not meant to. It’s just that I write from a place inside me which is so primal and profound, it’s honestly still a mystery to me.
When I write, I don’t really think about anything. In truth, I've learned that I do my best writing when I get out of my own way, mind my own business and just let it happen … in other words, when I don’t spend too much time thinking about it. When I just let it flow, the story and the characters seem to create themselves. And those seem to be the phrases or the paragraphs or the chapters of the story which move me the most - even when I go back to them several months later.
So, am I losing some intimate part of me? Am I giving something up? I don’t believe so. It never feels like “giving”. It feels more like praying.
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
My answer? Yes and no.
OK … OK … I know … that’s no answer and it sounds like a cop-out. But the truth is, it is yes and no. Maybe I am giving something up. But then again, maybe I’m not.
It doesn’t feel as though I’m losing anything.
To my way of thinking, it’s feels more like digging way down deep inside and accessing it. Certainly, once my words are published, they will be shared with the multitudes - and, God willing, the multitudes will keep up their end of the bargain (my bargain, anyway!) and partake of the sharing - but I never think about that when I'm writing. I never think about what’s going to happen to my words later on.
I think if I gave that part of the process - what it might mean once my readers have my words in their hands and then in their minds and eventually in their discussions with each other … if I stop to consider my audience … I might be inhibited. My writing might be inhibited.
Oh, mercy, I hope that doesn’t sound self-aggrandizing! It’s not meant to. It’s just that I write from a place inside me which is so primal and profound, it’s honestly still a mystery to me.
When I write, I don’t really think about anything. In truth, I've learned that I do my best writing when I get out of my own way, mind my own business and just let it happen … in other words, when I don’t spend too much time thinking about it. When I just let it flow, the story and the characters seem to create themselves. And those seem to be the phrases or the paragraphs or the chapters of the story which move me the most - even when I go back to them several months later.
So, am I losing some intimate part of me? Am I giving something up? I don’t believe so. It never feels like “giving”. It feels more like praying.
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
15 June, 2009
Rocks, Walls and Epiphanies
A friend of mine, a film producer, recently asked me in an e-mail what was going through my mind when I wrote “Finding Emmaus”. He said, “I meet so many people who confidently tell me that their book or play or film is going to change the world. Invariably their works are boring and pedantic. My take is that we need to tell the best story we possibly can. If, after being exposed to our work, people are inspired to make positive changes in themselves or their communities, great. But that's a happy by-product. Story matters above all.”
People who know me now but did not know me just a few years back may be surprised by this but, prior to this huge ‘epiphany’ of mine nearly two years ago, I was about as unemotional a person as one could get. I didn’t cry at tear-jerker movies and I CERTAINLY never cried in front of anyone - ever. I used to be envious of my friends who COULD cry on their way out of the movie theater, friends who could then tearfully, joyfully, tell the people waiting in line what a wonderful film it was and how much they’d enjoy it.
These same high school friends, and then, later on, my co-workers, firmly believed I was hard as a rock and twice as strong and everyone loved to lean on me ‘cause I never shed a tear. I was the one to go to. I was Wonder Woman, Underdog and The Rock of Gibraltar all rolled into one. I resented, BTW, that everyone automatically assumed I was so strong that I never needed arms around me, but I kept my mouth shut because I was like that.
I clearly recall a time in my late 20’s when an incredulous friend said, “…YOU need help? But Pamela, you’re so strong. It never occurred to me you’d be weak.” One of those memories which pops up occasionally in living color and brings with it anger and resentment in waves.
I was NOT a rock, I was behind a wall. But I had no idea and neither, apparently, did anyone else…
Something changed one day - August 8th 2007 - and I don’t know why. I can remember the exact moment, where I was, what I was doing, and the photograph I was staring at which is now indelibly etched into my brain as the foundation - and the starting point - of this “Dream Quest” I’m on, this path of mine which I am now certain ‘has a heart’ (thank you Don Juan and Carlos Casteneda!).
From that moment on, I've become a different human being. At first, and for a long time thereafter, I thought I was losing my mind. ALL I could do was cry - over anything. A GE commercial could reduce me to a quivering bowl of Jell-O. I still cry easily, but at least now I’m not afraid it’s a sign of impending insanity.
That said, I can now answer Burt’s question.
The only thing on my mind when I created the town and the people of Duncaster / Weavers Bridge, CT, and then the story and then the book “Finding Emmaus” was an almost frenzied need to write it with everything I had in me.
That’s all I knew: just tell the story.
And the way I knew I had written a phrase or a sentence or a paragraph or a chapter just right, the way I knew I had ‘nailed it’, was my emotional response to it as I wrote. If I didn’t cry, I put what I had written aside and started again. And I’m not just talking about the sad or emotional parts of the story - I mean EVERYTHING. If it didn’t touch my heart, even if was only a paragraph to describe how the early Puritans identified which plants they could use to dye their cloth blue, it got rewritten.
I didn’t write “Finding Emmaus” to be famous or change the world or to impress anyone. I wrote it because I HAD to. Seven hundred and fifty pages came pouring out of a part of me I did not know existed and still have yet to locate.
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
People who know me now but did not know me just a few years back may be surprised by this but, prior to this huge ‘epiphany’ of mine nearly two years ago, I was about as unemotional a person as one could get. I didn’t cry at tear-jerker movies and I CERTAINLY never cried in front of anyone - ever. I used to be envious of my friends who COULD cry on their way out of the movie theater, friends who could then tearfully, joyfully, tell the people waiting in line what a wonderful film it was and how much they’d enjoy it.
These same high school friends, and then, later on, my co-workers, firmly believed I was hard as a rock and twice as strong and everyone loved to lean on me ‘cause I never shed a tear. I was the one to go to. I was Wonder Woman, Underdog and The Rock of Gibraltar all rolled into one. I resented, BTW, that everyone automatically assumed I was so strong that I never needed arms around me, but I kept my mouth shut because I was like that.
I clearly recall a time in my late 20’s when an incredulous friend said, “…YOU need help? But Pamela, you’re so strong. It never occurred to me you’d be weak.” One of those memories which pops up occasionally in living color and brings with it anger and resentment in waves.
I was NOT a rock, I was behind a wall. But I had no idea and neither, apparently, did anyone else…
Something changed one day - August 8th 2007 - and I don’t know why. I can remember the exact moment, where I was, what I was doing, and the photograph I was staring at which is now indelibly etched into my brain as the foundation - and the starting point - of this “Dream Quest” I’m on, this path of mine which I am now certain ‘has a heart’ (thank you Don Juan and Carlos Casteneda!).
From that moment on, I've become a different human being. At first, and for a long time thereafter, I thought I was losing my mind. ALL I could do was cry - over anything. A GE commercial could reduce me to a quivering bowl of Jell-O. I still cry easily, but at least now I’m not afraid it’s a sign of impending insanity.
That said, I can now answer Burt’s question.
The only thing on my mind when I created the town and the people of Duncaster / Weavers Bridge, CT, and then the story and then the book “Finding Emmaus” was an almost frenzied need to write it with everything I had in me.
That’s all I knew: just tell the story.
And the way I knew I had written a phrase or a sentence or a paragraph or a chapter just right, the way I knew I had ‘nailed it’, was my emotional response to it as I wrote. If I didn’t cry, I put what I had written aside and started again. And I’m not just talking about the sad or emotional parts of the story - I mean EVERYTHING. If it didn’t touch my heart, even if was only a paragraph to describe how the early Puritans identified which plants they could use to dye their cloth blue, it got rewritten.
I didn’t write “Finding Emmaus” to be famous or change the world or to impress anyone. I wrote it because I HAD to. Seven hundred and fifty pages came pouring out of a part of me I did not know existed and still have yet to locate.
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
09 June, 2009
What A Piece Of Work Is Man
The process of writing my novel, “Finding Emmāus”, of creating and then developing each and every one of its characters, made me think deeply about what I write, about what is vitally important in my stories, made me truly evaluate what goes on in the deepest, most secretive parts of human personalities, the differences and the nuances from one human to another. Their actions, reactions and interactions with other characters within the story had to be consistent with their personalities throughout the book. I had to learn to really look at what makes people ‘tick’.
And in the process, I learned as much about me as I did about them - perhaps more…
I've always known that life is precious, just as I've always believed human beings to be resilient creatures. But life is also a fragile thing and prior to this time (prior to writing “Finding Emmāus”) I never truly appreciated just how fragile.
I never really thought about what went on inside the walls of a hideous place like Bethlem Royal Hospital in the 17th century, or what the original settlers of this country went through when they lived day to day knowing their survival tomorrow quite literally depended upon every minute they spent today - - if they couldn’t make it or grow it or trade with the Native Americans for it, they did without it.
But I also know this: life, even in its most profoundly tragic moments, gives us a break - as in the way we humans will fondly recount an amusing story about a recently-lost loved one, even at a funeral.
Fragile and resilient, heroic and terrible, determined and pitiable - Hamlet had it right when he said “What a piece of work is man!”
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
And in the process, I learned as much about me as I did about them - perhaps more…
I've always known that life is precious, just as I've always believed human beings to be resilient creatures. But life is also a fragile thing and prior to this time (prior to writing “Finding Emmāus”) I never truly appreciated just how fragile.
I never really thought about what went on inside the walls of a hideous place like Bethlem Royal Hospital in the 17th century, or what the original settlers of this country went through when they lived day to day knowing their survival tomorrow quite literally depended upon every minute they spent today - - if they couldn’t make it or grow it or trade with the Native Americans for it, they did without it.
But I also know this: life, even in its most profoundly tragic moments, gives us a break - as in the way we humans will fondly recount an amusing story about a recently-lost loved one, even at a funeral.
Fragile and resilient, heroic and terrible, determined and pitiable - Hamlet had it right when he said “What a piece of work is man!”
Copyright © 2009, All Rights Reserved
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