It's Raining Books: Tales of a Mermaid Gone over the Deep End by Teresa Fischtner

Friday, December 10, 2021

Tales of a Mermaid Gone over the Deep End by Teresa Fischtner

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Teresa Fischtner will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Advance praise (payback) for Teresa Fischtner:

"Well, this is a little embarrassing. I didn't actually read the WHOLE book, but it's probably pretty good. I'm not sure what she said about me, but you should know—SHE shot me in the back on my 19th birthday!" – Ronny Fischtner (author's son)

"I love my mom and I love MOST of this book. It should be noted that my bowling has improved, I've given up hockey, accounting is for nerds, pancakes is food for super heroes and no one needs to count how many boyfriends I've had." – Malyn Fischtner (author's daughter)

"I'm pleased to be the source of so much humour for my wife. I just wish she didn't feel the need to publish it." – Ron Fischtner (author's husband)

"It was the last class of the evening that I was teaching, and we were doing our stretches, and at the surface of the water I noticed a single floating nipple happily bobbing away on its own. Unsure if its owner was still in the water, I quietly asked the nearest lady, "Excuse me, could you just pass me that nipple over your right shoulder?

"There I held a lovely C-cup breast that went rogue. I made posters for the lost breast (seriously, I made missing boob posters). No one claimed her. I introduced her to all the instructors, but no one recognized her (honestly, they all look the same after a few years at the pool). No one ever claimed Betty (yes, we gave her a name). Betty stayed on the teachers' table in our special little box for a long time. Eventually, like all good boobs, she wrinkled up, lost her bounce, and sagged lower and lower in the box until we all forgot how much fun she was when we first found her."

This is a feel-good book of true short stories about me, my family, friends, and my aquafit business, Over the Deep End. We all have stories to share, and the true ones are always the best. I'm sharing some of my most vulnerable moments, some of my greatest moments, and some of my saddest. Hopefully, in one story or another, you find something way better than me—you might find you. We all have a story and a different way to tell it. I hope telling my stories helps you tell some of your own.

Read an Exclusive Excerpt

Dad was very generous of his time and his resources; it came naturally to him. He was also painfully empathetic. During my first pregnancy, I was having nightmares about giving birth. I didn’t want to do it. Don’t get me wrong. I wanted that kicking, nauseating bundle of sleepless nights out of me. I just didn’t want to give birth to it. I wanted a c-section. I talked to my doctor, who suggested I start hypnosis to calm my fears. My mom was a midwife. She knew I would be fine and kept telling me so.

My Dad wanted me to have whatever I wanted to have (like a pony for my birthday!). He went to my doctor’s office, where he was not a patient and did not have an appointment. He wanted to talk to my doctor, and he would sit and wait until he saw him. Sit and wait, he did, for hours, until eventually, my doctor tired of the receptionist asking, “What are we going to do with this guy? He won’t leave.” Dad wanted to get me a c-section. He asked my doctor to promise me a c-section to put me at ease and bill him directly so as not to abuse OHIP. My doctor tried to explain that vaginal birth was so much better for both mom and babe, but I was both mom and babe in Dad’s eyes, and his little girl wanted a c-section. Neither my mom nor dad told me about his visit to my doctor’s office. I found out about it at my next check-up. That made for a tearful conversation with my doctor, who was also a father himself and understood that kind of love.

My son, Ronny, was born a few months later and after thirty hours of labour, guess what I got, a cesarean. Never ever wish for a c-section; lesson learned, lady Karma. My mom and dad were the first ones at the hospital. I think my dad would have just as soon swaddled me in a blanket and held me on his chest, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was proud of me, and I had the finest example of good parents right there in front of me.

Ten months later, he had a heart attack; his steps to heaven were the first cracks of my heart. There are no words to tell you how much I miss my dad, but there are millions of words to share the memories of my dad, and for that, I’m grateful.

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