Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Give Mom Humor and Be Her Favorite Child

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Flowers and candy are lovely gifts for Mother’s Day, but after all the angst and drama of the past two months, Mom wants to laugh! I’d love to help. My award-winning books, eBooks, and audiobooks will cause your mother to smile again and love you more than your siblings.

“Laugh-out-loud funny!” – Publishers Weekly

“Resembles Erma Bombeck.” – Foreword Reviews

Winners of Five National Writing Awards, including Finalist for Book of the Year for Humor with a rare 5-Star Review

Both books were ranked #1 Bestsellers online.

Midlife Happy Hour is available in paperback, eBook, and audiobook read by the Author

Midlife Cabernet is available in paperback and eBook

Here’s a sneak peek of the preliminary cover for the final book in the midlife trilogy: Midlife Reboot – Humorous Stories of Rest, Resilience, and Renewal. This book will make the perfect Christmas and holiday present, so you’ll still be the favorite child.

Order the first two books online, from local bookstores, or directly from the author: For personalized and autographed copies, email [email protected]

A Pain in the Foot – Winning Essay for Erma Bombeck Writing Competition

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(Note: This essay was chosen as a winner in the 2020 Erma Bombeck Humor Writing Competition. I’ll read the essay at a reception hosted by Betsy Bombeck, Erma’s daughter, at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop in Dayton, Ohio, in April.)

Shock wave therapy device – for feet

I limped into the doctor’s office, grimacing with every other step. My strong right foot was ready to dance half of a festive polka, but the left foot hurt as if I were walking in a box of rocks over the smoldering ashes of my broken dreams. I explained to the doctor how the agony in my heel was worse in the morning, and I wanted to stay in bed, read books, and hire a mysterious Italian hunk named Antonio to bring me brunch and sing ballads.

“You have plantar fasciitis,” Doctor Rodgers said after manipulating my foot. The diagnosis sounded sophisticated and serious.

“Am I going to die?” I asked, mentally assessing who should receive my collection of original Beatles’ albums after the fatal fasciitis destroyed my plantar.

The doctor stifled a groan. “The plantar fascia is a fibrous tissue that extends along the bottom of your foot and connects your heel bone to your toes. Your foot hurts because the tissue has serious inflammation.”

Those were medical terms I could understand. I had issues with tissues.

“Do you jog?” The doctor peered at my matronly body covered with black sweatpants and large shirt featuring the words: “I Heart Donuts.” We both laughed.

“Do you wear high-heeled shoes?”

“Not since the Reagan Administration,” I answered. “And, only for fancy fundraising dinners. I’ll never forget the Spring Gala of 1988 when I wore silver satin heels and Lydia Zollinger spilled red wine on my shoe. I dumped the rest of her wine on the other shoe so they would match.”

Dr. Rodgers cleared her throat, indicating she didn’t care about the Spring Gala. She proceeded to describe remedies that included stretching exercises, ice packs, wraps, shoe inserts, oils, and orthopedic shoes. None of her recommendations included Antonio, my morning troubadour. She mumbled something about losing weight, but my brain had a mental block against such wicked words. Chubby people don’t need to be told to lose weight.

Then she recommended a treatment called Extracorporeal Shock Wave Therapy.

“I might be an older, full-bodied woman with a limp,” I retorted, “but I don’t need shock therapy.”

Shock Wave Therapy – 9-Second video

“The technique uses a wand to distribute shock waves over the bottom of your foot,” she explained patiently. “Most clients report immediate improvement.”

Tiffany Wilson Campbell of Matrix Regenerative Medicine in Boise tortures and tames the pain.

At the scheduled appointment, the technician moved the magic machine over my foot, promising it wouldn’t hurt. After the procedure ended, I gently stood and rejoiced because the pain was gone. I was ready for both feet to dance a lively polka down Main Street. Full of gratitude, I decided to add the technician’s name to my Will. She can have the Beatles’ albums.

Idaho Author is a Winner in the Erma Bombeck Humor Writing Competition

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Elaine Ambrose, a bestselling author and humorist from Meridian, Idaho, is a winner in the prestigious Erma Bombeck Writing Competition. Her essay titled “A Pain in the Foot” won Honorable Mention in the 2020 Global Humor category. Entries were submitted from 559 writers from 11 different countries and 49 states as they attempted to capture the essence of Erma’s writings.

Erma Bombeck was an American humorist, newspaper columnist, and bestselling author who gained popularity through her newspaper column that described home life from the mid-1960s until the late 1990s. Bombeck died in 1996, but her humor endures through a bi-annual writers’ workshop in Dayton, Ohio.

Ambrose will read her winning essay at the Workshop in April at a reception hosted by Betsy Bombeck, Erma’s daughter. Ambrose has participated in the conferences since 2014 when she performed Stand-Up Comedy at the event. In 2016, she taught two writing workshops, and in 2018, she was one of the authors chosen for the bestselling book Laugh Out Loud. The award-winning book debuted at the 2018 conference.

Ambrose adds this honor to numerous other awards for writing humor.

“Don’t Fart During an MRI” – This essay on The Huffington Post went viral in 2014 with more than 800,000 likes and was translated into six languages around the world.

“My Mothers Body Got Lost” – This essay was a winner in the “Voice of the Year” writing competition sponsored by BlogHer. Ambrose accepted the award at a conference in New York City.

For three consecutive years, her humorous essays have won writing awards for humor from the National Society of Newspaper Columnists and Bloggers.

Receiving Award from Pulitzer Prize Winning Writer Maureen Dowd

Her book Midlife Happy Hour was a finalist for “Book of the Year for Humor” from Foreword Reviews received a rare 5-Star National Clarion Review. The collection of humorous essays also received two writing awards from the Independent Press Awards program.

Her book Midlife Cabernet won the Silver Medal for Humor from the Independent Publisher Books Awards program. Publishers Weekly reviewed the book as “Laugh-out-Loud Funny!” Foreword Reviews wrote that the writing resembled Erma Bombeck.

Ambrose co-authored Menopause Sucks, a national bestselling book.

Ambrose is an internationally recognized syndicated blogger. She was voted one of the top three authors in the “Best of Treasure Valley” contest sponsored by The Idaho Statesman in 2016 and 2019. She owns Mill Park Publishing and was named a “Business Woman of the Year for 2014” by the Idaho Business Review.

A founding member of the Idaho Writers Guild, Ambrose also organizes and hosts writing workshops and speaks at events across the country. She’ll be teaching writing workshops in Ireland for two weeks in April through a tour group knows as Wayfinding Women.

Ambrose has authored or coauthored 15 books, several eBooks, and three audiobooks. She writes in three genres: humor, memoir, and children’s books. She’s currently working on the third book in the Midlife Trilogy with a book titled Midlife Reboot – How to Unplug and Start Over. Her new children’s book titled Melody’s Magical Flying Machine should be released before the end of the year. Find details on her website: ElaineAmbrose.com. She lives in Meridian with her patient husband.

Children’s Book Stars Delightful Girl with Down Syndrome

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I’m excited to announce my latest children’s book, Melody’s Magical Flying Machine, will be released in September. The chapter book for children ages 7-12 introduces 10-year-old Melody, a spirited girl with Down syndrome. Written in first person, the story describes how Melody meets an enchanted bird named JuJu who helps her create a magical flying machine pulled by two green dragons. Melody blossoms with confidence and a sense of adventure as she soars over the playground to amaze her friends, frighten the teachers, and terrorize a group of bullies.

Melody’s creative ability in storytelling empowers her to entertain other children while sharing her tall tales. She also proves why she is the most marvelous hugger in all the Universe. The character is entertaining, energetic, and funny.

Few books feature a main character with the perspective of a child with Down syndrome. A comparative book would be Wonder, the New York Times Bestseller by R.J. Palacio, published in 2012.

The cover illustration by award-winning British illustrator Wayne Anderson, is courtesy of Bridgeman Art Gallery of New York. The captivating interior artwork is being created by Caroline Zina. The 100-page book will be released by Brown Books Publishing. The publisher intends to market and distribute the book to hundreds of bookstores, schools, and libraries.

Naughty NextDoor: Candy Culprits and Deadly Ducks

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Watching for Naughty Neighbors

When I get bored watching the circus in Washington, DC, I glance at my NextDoor account to read about what’s going on in the neighborhood. The comments provide the best entertainment in town. Here are examples of recent online conversations (with my added comments) from actual adults who are allowed to own homes and walk among us:

Neighbor 1: Someone left a Secret Santa gift on my porch but a neighborhood kid stole a candy bar!
Neighbor 2: You don’t have to get snotty about it. Maybe the child was lonely and hungry.
Neighbor 3: Neither of you should eat a candy bar. I’ve seen you in shorts. Ghastly!
Neighbor 4: Give everyone a candy bar, just like the Communists. Is that why your door is painted red?
Neighbor 5: I think the Secret Santa gift was intended for me. Please bring it over after 3:00 pm.

Two women neighbours talking over a white picket fence in the 1940’s. (Photo by FPG/Getty Images)

Neighbors used to chat over the fence or take a casserole next door to discuss issues. Now they lob accusation, insults, and childish comments over the Internet instead of walking across the street. Here’s another enhanced example:

Neighbor 1: My crime camera caught a teenager prowling my porch. When I posted it here, a neighbor complained that I was publicly shaming a child.
Neighbor 2: It was cruel to post the video. His parents are drug addicts. Have some compassion.
Neighbor 1: Well, if this brat is held accountable, he won’t turn out like his loser parents.
Neighbor 3: Who are the drug addicts? Do they live on my street? Are they the ones with the purple hair and tattoos? I never liked them.
Neighbor 6: Does anyone know a good pest control company? I think there are fruit bats with rabies in my attic.
Neighbor 2: This is the “Crime & Safety” section. Post your question in the “Recommendations” category.
Neighbor 1: What? We have rabies-infected creatures in the neighborhood? What do we do?

Beware of rabid bats.

I was tempted to run away and live in the forest without any neighborhood chat groups after this haunting exchange:

Neighbor 9: Stop feeding the ducks! They need to migrate. We have too many male Mallards and they gang-rape a female and hold her head under water until she drowns.
Neighbor 10: You idiot. It’s not mating season. And if male ducks raped and killed the female ducks, there wouldn’t be anymore ducks. Get a life.
Neighbor 11: Well, I’m never taking my grandkids to the pond again to feed the ducks. They don’t need to see any duck rapes.
Neighbor 4: You liberal crybabies want to feed the ducks to keep them dependent on the government.

Around the world, people live in fear of famine, wars, natural disasters, and lethal diseases. Here, in my little corner of Meridian, Idaho, all I need to fear are candy thieves, fruit bats with rabies, gang-raping ducks, and communists. It’s not Bedford Falls as portrayed in the delightful Christmas movie with Jimmy Stewart, but still, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Don’t Take Photos in Public Restrooms

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Grocery shopping is at the top of my list of “Things Never to Do During Thanksgiving Week.” Of course, I seldom obey my own rules, so I was at the store on the afternoon before Thanksgiving squeezing my laden cart through the aisles full of intense people all in a mad frenzy to spend hundreds of dollars so they could work several hours to prepare food some guests wouldn’t like in order to give thanks.

I was half done with my long list when my body betrayed me as it usually does during stressful times. I had to go to the bathroom. I maneuvered my cart close to the restroom and parked it near the door, hoping no one would take the cans of water chestnuts because they were too difficult to find. In a hurry to finish my business and return to shopping, I accidentally dropped my precious list into the toilet.

Under normal circumstances, I would have flushed away my problems, but I needed that list. I still could read the words but didn’t want to reach in and pull out a soggy piece of paper, so I did the next best thing: I took a photograph on my cell phone. Yes, I did.

I continued shopping while focusing on the photo of the essential items. I found everything except a spice identified with a complicated name. I needed the spice for a new recipe. A busy store employee dashed by, and I grabbed his arm and showed him the photo on my phone.

“Do you know where I can find this?” I asked.

The employee stared at my phone and then at me and back at the phone.

“Do you need to find the restroom?” he asked, backing away.

I looked at my phone and there it was: a photo of a toilet bowl. Apparently, he assumed the floating list was used toilet paper. I stammered apologies and quickly pushed my cart to the next aisle, almost wiping out a senior citizen riding a travel scooter. I decided I didn’t want the spice with the fancy name.

While waiting in the checkout line, I frantically tried to delete the photo from my cell phone. Somehow in my flustered desperation, I accidentally posted it to my public Instagram Account. I regularly post photos to Instagram, so it was a natural habit.

“Oh, no!” I wailed. “I just showed my toilet on the Internet!”

As I was pounding the delete button on the now-public photo, a kind customer service representative came over and pushed my cart to a special checkout line. She spoke in a soothing voice usually reserved for manic shoppers in need of medication. I finally deleted the photo, paid for the groceries, and found my car. As I drove away, I waved farewell to the grocery store. I can never return.

Next time, I’ll chose a short shopping list.