Saturday, October 9, 2021

Upside down stories

 I have always LOVED to write.  To create.  I live a LOT in my head, processing the stuff of my life, and the experiences of people around me.  At one point in time, I really REALLY wanted to write novels or romances.  But as I have gotten older, and read more of this genre, it all feels very formulaic, and contrived.  

Imagine with me a typical story line - a young woman runs away from home to meet with huge success in a big city, but not in relationships.  In frustration, she returns to her small hometown to be knocked head-over-heals by the young man who was there all along, and they live happily-ever-after.  Formulaic.  NOT realistic.  Sometimes HE is more successful; sometimes she is a failure at something...still formulaic. 

How many love stories ACTUALLY look like this?  

Why don't authors write realistic love stories?  Oh, yeah.  They don't sell.  

YUCK.  

Why are real-life love stories not as attractive?  

Oh, yeah...people don't want to face the fact that people FIGHT, and screw things up, and it can't be tied together with a pretty bow in 150 pages.  The fact that real life is messy, and unfair, and painful.  How do you sell books like that?  

As time has passed, I have come to the conclusion that I need to write nonfiction...it is a better fit for who I am, and the direction I am headed.  And yet, I procrastinate.  It's not the right time.  It's too much work.  I don't know where to start.  

Today, it dawned on me that real-life stories DO actually sell....sometimes.  And people DO want to read them...SOME of them.  Honestly, *I* read them.  I don't read much "fluff" any more.  Real life is more appealing to me.  But not the ones that are easily scripted and tied up in a pretty bow.  I want the raw, and rough, and the ones that make me look deeper at who I am, down deep.  

Tell me....what do YOU want to read? Do you want the formulas? The fantasy? The real?  The raw?  What draws you in?  

I'm not "there" yet

 There's so much of me that is still a work-in-progress.  

I'm learning to overcome the traumas in my life.  
I'm learning to show grace to myself and others. 
I'm learning and growing in my faith.  
I'm healing from the hurts of life. 

Meanwhile, I'm also learning that the things in my life I experience on a daily basis are making me into someone new.  

I am NOT the person I was at 18 when I left for college.  
I am NOT the person my mother was disappointed in because college changed me.  
I am NOT the newly-married wife flinching because my husband moved faster than I was prepared for.  
I am NOT the new mother scared to revisit my childhood traumas on my children.
I am NOT the mother of all the kids in all the schools trying to juggle all the things all the time.  

For now, I am a daughter of a flawed, dysfunctional family. 
I am a wife of a newly retired-from-the-Navy husband, trying to figure out what is next. 
I am the mom of a bunch of newly-minted adults, struggling to step back and let them handle things on their own, and working to reimagine my life rattling around in a house that is much too large for those of us still living in it.  
I am Mimi to some precious little people that I get to spend far too little time with.  
I am a coworker, friend, neighbor.