Like a lot of people, for weeks I have been waiting with
baited breath to see the Bruce Jenner interview with Diane Sawyer. On a Friday
night I’m more likely to be conked out on my couch than I am watching something
on the boob tube, but I made sure I was awake at nine last Friday to catch all
of the juicy details.
I know I’m aging myself, but when I was a child Bruce Jenner
was the epitome of masculinity and what it meant to be an American hero. I look
at pictures of him back in his Olympic prime and it is hard to deny that the
man was fine as hell. I mean the muscles alone can make your knees weak. So to
think, that whole time he wasn’t living the life he wanted is incredible, and incredibly
sad. As humans we only have a short time to make the most of our lives. To
spend the majority of it wearing a mask for fear of what people might say and
do is disheartening. We should all be able to live the lives we wish, whether
that means we seem odd to others or not.
In the beginning of my novella The Love She Wants, neither Kayla nor Tommie is living an authentic
life because of their concerns of living the way others think is right. I won’t
spoil the story for you if you haven’t read it yet, but from my above comments
you can probably speculate about how it might turn out. As a matter of fact, my
latest piece that I’m working on now also deals with living an authentic life.
Hmm, I wonder what my subconscious is trying to tell me? But I digress, here’s
to Bruce Jenner and to living the life you’ve always wanted.
Growing up, Anne of
Green Gables was my favorite book/series, second only to Little Women. I loved learning about life
in late 1800's/turn of the century Prince Edward Island and the crazy mishaps and
adventures of Anne Shirley. I even nicknamed one of my friends Anne-girl in
honor of Anne Shirley. To be fair, my friend was also a redhead named Anne, so
it wasn’t much of a stretch.
I fell in love with the Green Gables series before I found
bodice rippers, but without a doubt they satisfied my preteen craving for romance. Gilbert
was the perfect boy next door who swept Anne off her feet and me along with
her. And I loved the movies almost as much as I loved the books. Just thinking
about them (the books and the movies) brings a smile to my face, and warm
memories of my childhood coming flooding back to me. That series helped foster
my love of reading and wanting to be a writer. So, it is no surprise that I am
devastated that the actor Jonathan Crombie, who played Gilbert in the movies,
has passed away. Hearing about his death is like hearing about an old friend
passing away, which in some ways he was. It is very much a cliché to say rest
in peace, so instead I’ll hope Jonathan/Gilbert is in a better place with
Marilla, Matthew and Ruby because they are forever intertwined in my heart.
I was walking through a big box store this weekend when I
saw a pillow with the words “do what you love, love what you do” embroidered on
the front. Now I’ve heard the statement before, but for some reason it seemed
to get me to thinking about if I’m living my life this way. This is probably
because I’m of a certain age. I’m no longer uber young, but I still have more
than twenty years of work ahead of me before I can retire from my day job.
Plus, I’d been having heart to heart conversations recently with a friend about
careers and “finding your bliss”. M. is also of that certain age. She’s
starting to wonder if she should stick with her job, though she’s feeling blah
about it, or try to find something doing what she loves and face the uncertainty
of a new work life. Let’s all agree that doing what you love might not pay the
bills. And we all have bills, big ones.
I like my 9 to 5 job just
fine, but I can’t say that I love it. I do however love writing. Okay, that is
a bit of an untruth. There is an adage that authors don’t love writing, we love
having written, and in my case this is doubly true. I find my favorite part of
being a writer isn’t putting words on the page, but creating characters and
scenarios and situations in my head. I love developing a love story; however, getting
it out of my head and onto the page is a whole other story (no pun intended).
But at least I get to do what I love. And I certainly love what I do. Even if I
never sell another story, that won’t prevent me from coming up with people who
are perfect for each other, or dreaming of how they meet and fall in love. I
may never be able to do what I love to pay all of my bills, but I can certainly
love do what I love to feed my soul. I hope you too are doing what you love as
much as you can to feed your soul.
Tonight the first episode of the last season of Mad Men
aired and I’m on cloud nine. I love Mad Men. I know I use love a lot in this
blog but it really is true (and I seem to be consumed with movies and
television—no surprise since I grew up watching way too much of both). I fell
in love with Mad Men before it actually hit the airwaves. I saw a preview about
it and fell hard immediately.
I love the 60’s fashion, hairstyles, architecture, office
politics, sexual politics and even the sexism inherent in the workforce back in
the day. God, especially the sexism. Odd I know, but how can you appreciate
where you are if you don’t know where you came from? But most of all, I love Don Draper. He’s
everything I adore in a hero, movie idol handsome, sexy as all get out and
confident as hell. A liar and a cheat, complicated and compelling. Flawed
without doubt but undoubtedly worth saving. Le sigh, I mean, what more can you
Ever since the first season I have been toying with a
character based on DD—and this was way before fan fiction was allowed to see the
light of day. My character (still unnamed) is tortured by a past he’s hiding and
consumed with controlling his world and the new lover in it. He thinks that
just by the force of his will he can make everything perfect and right, but
sadly, my heroine isn’t cooperating. Hmm, the more I think about it, the more I’m
tempted to drag the story back to the front of the queue. Well, while I’m
figuring out how to torture Mr. No Name, every Sunday night I’ll sit down and
enjoy the Don Draper experience. After all, this season marks the end of an era.