Goodness, where is the time going? Mid-November. No snow. No boots! I should be walking more – there’s no excuse. Okay, I’ll start tomorrow morning. But it’s dark and cold and the bed is so nicely warmed. What a procrastinator I am. Okay, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.
I’ve been meeting writer-friends at coffee shops more to talk about writing. This week, Sheila T and I sat at a small table in a cafe in downtown Newmarket talking about how to write a believable sex scene. Only in a writer’s world!
We spoke about Erica Jong and ‘zipless f****’. I asked what her characters looked like, which is something she found surprising. I explained that I have to be able to ‘see’ the characters to begin understanding and accepting why they behave as they do. So we segued into what sparks our creativity and what characters over 40 or 50 and 60 do in intimate relationships. A Catholic-school girl like me, she’s been married to the same man for over 40 years and admits that her experience has been linear, which is a good thing in these days of all sorts of turmoil.
Her 40-something character wanted to get it on in a shower with a guy who’d mooned after her for years. He’s a bit of a lost soul, but what red-blooded guy turns down the offer of uncomplicated sex?
The draft scene was a bit…incomplete, so we chatted about visualizing and adding texture through sensory language. She made an interesting comment, though, about how older people – women in particular – have body image issues and younger women don’t. Boy, was that a wrong assumption. All women have body image issues – too fat, too thin, too short, too pale, love/hate my hair/thighs/lips/arms/ears/breasts, etc.
I look at my gorgeous granddaughters – 25 and 16. While they are brilliant, accomplished, confident young women, of course they have issues with how they look. Eyebrows are big items. My 14 year old grandson made an offhanded comment about how his sister styled her brows and she burst into tears. My 25-year old posts numerous selfies that feature her eyebrows and different shades of lipstick – often quite dramatic.
We all have scars, inside and out. Some of us hide them better than others.
One of the many memories seared in my brain is standing on the porch of my mother’s house with my 19 year old boyfriend and him telling my 18 year old self (5′ 5″, slim, athletic, smart) that if I lost ten pounds, I could be a model.
If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have called him an arrogant asshole and dumped him right then and there. But prom was coming up and I needed a date and he had a car and mom had already sewed my dress, so I buttoned my lip and said nothing. I was a goddess then and I still am, just a different shaped goddess.
Did it scar me? Not really. But it did make me aware of how ‘others’ saw me. For years, even after I was married, if my husband criticized what I was wearing (too bright, too…whatever) I’d cave and change my clothes.
Now – no way. I live with a man who loves me as I am.Who values wit, creativity, sassiness, strength and creativity.
Whenever I ask Hub if he finds X actress or Y athlete or Z news commentator attractive because they are thin and/or blonde and/or fit the fashion-mag picture of womanly beauty, he’ll take the time to explain why he does not.
He’s not trying to butter me up, either (although, hmmm…butter? No. I’d have to use Resolve to get the greasy stains out of the sheets.).
What he does explain is why he finds the energy or intelligence of certain women intriguing. Even as he claims not to understand women. I think it’s the sudden shifts in mood or our ability to reverse positions in an argument.
Yes, he is a lovely man. And, as the heroes say in romantic novels when they’ve captured the heart of their lady, MINE.