by Christine | Life, Observations
thanks to soulofaword.com for the photo
I’ve about had it with Mom Jeans, or whatever other moniker has been put on those denim (or denim-knit) jean-like pants that every woman over 40 who’s had babies reluctantly tries on and inevitably buys because nothing else even remotely fits.
(Note: I tried to find a photo of Mom Jeans, and what I saw horrified me so much that I felt I couldn’t subject my readers to such photos. You’re on your own! Enjoy the flowers.)
I used to work in retail. I know jeans, especially Mom Jeans (though of course, we didn’t call them that in the store I worked for). You know the ones – they hold your tummy in while cutting you off at the waist. Or, the zipper is two inches long, the waistband is now hugging your bladder (which has dropped and is protruding due to those darling monsters you call children), and your belly fat slops over the top of the jean. They’ve changed the zipper only because they’re trying to lure in the 30-something women who normally don’t shop in the boutique stores but who do wear almost mons-baring jeans. (They’re still shopping in Forever 21. No, seriously.)
When you do get a pair of jeans that makes you look somewhat the way you did 30 years ago, they stretch. Slowly, insidiously, until wearing them the third day, you’re tugging them up over your ass every five minutes so you don’t look like a gang-banger with your undies showing. (Because you don’t think the people on the street need to know you still enjoy wearing thong underwear even though you’re over 50/not skinny anymore. Yes, thong underwear DOES come in large sizes, thankyouverymuch.)
Where was I? Oh yeah. So, in order to get these jeans to fit correctly, you have to get them a size smaller. Doesn’t matter what size you REALLY are – because the boutique stores’ sizes are all fucked up anyway. You climb into the size-smaller pair of jeans, suck in your stomach, blow out all the air of your lungs, stand on tiptoe, and TUG LIKE HELL to get the zipper up. Once you do, and after hastily dropping your somewhat-billowy shirt down to cover the fat rolls poking over the top, you do a fanny check.
Niiice. Not airbrushed, no spanx, but your fanny looks smooth. Firm. The jeans slim your legs down (or, if you’re on the thin side, make them look shapely), are long enough to wear a slight heel on those days you feel daring, yet won’t drag too horribly when you wear flats.
So you can’t breathe. Get over it, you’ll be able to breathe in two or three hours. And just think, in three days, your waistband won’t be hugging your asscheeks because they stretched too much, so you get more wearability with less washing (depending on how dirty your typical jeans-wearing activies are, of course).
You think, ah. Jeans Nirvana. After several hours in several different stores, you finally – FINALLY – find the right pair. After checking out the price tag (GULP – over a hundred bucks?!!), you reluctantly put the second pair back. Or, conversely, you buy a second pair, rationalizing that they never go on sale so may as well bite the bullet while you’ve still got room on your credit card and while you still fit into this ridiculous size that isn’t really your size but woo, it’s a small number.
Everything seems to be going well – until you’re wearing them for the first time in your real world day. Stressed, late for work, too much to carry – you go to shove your cell into one pocket and your small travel coffee cup into another pocket so you can get everything to the car in one trip. But the pockets? They’re not big enough for your HAND, much less your cell phone. While the beloved jeans of your youth had pockets that went deep, and could handle that coffee cup, these jeans don’t.
Oh Mr. Levi, or Mr. Wrangler, or heck, the Gap – can one of you PLEASE come up with a Mom Jean that makes me slim, beautiful, eliminates the rolls of fat, has nice deep pockets but doesn’t look strange from the front, and will also shove my bladder back where it belongs, permanently?
I’d so spend a hundred bucks for a pair of jeans like that.
~ ~ ~
DEMON SOUL is out – have you read it yet? DEMON HUNT coming this summer!
by Christine | Uncategorized
In the last few weeks, I’ve been dipping my toes in other writer’s groups. Well, internet groups actually, of writers. Loosely gathered. Many topics of discussion, many levels of success, novel, magazine, fan fic, from beginners to old timers, from young to not-so-young. I won’t name the groups, because it really doesn’t matter. I thought it would be interesting, so I started listening in on the conversations.
I discovered a cold-eyed and cynical world out there. One where other writers sneer at romance writers (“bodice ripper” was used, though that term is quite out of date), even though they don’t stoop so low as to read the genre. (Funnily enough, those most derogatory about romance had read – maybe– one romance novel.)
thanks to thepoliticalcarnival.net for the photo.
I also found, overwhelmingly, lots of writers who are seeking shortcuts to fame and writing fortune (though I have to believe these are the newer writers). Plus, there are those who want to prove themselves smarter than the folks asking the questions. “Agents? Don’t need ’em” (or, “GOD I wish I didn’t have one, mine sucks”). “Publishers? NY is dead.” The atmosphere is dark, and politeness seems to be thin on the ground if a disagreement arises.
The quality of advice varies wildly on these loops. I have stuck my neck out a couple of times, doing my best to be polite while giving my opinion, sticking up for romance when necessary, and sticking up for writers all together. Writing is hard enough without us putting each other down, right? No one looks good spewing vitriol at someone else (or their genre).
ALL writing is difficult. Mysteries have their difficulties, romance certainly does, sci fi? You betcha. Literary fiction is probably the most difficult genre to pin down and most likely the most difficult to write simply because it is so nebulous – there’s no road map of any kind to follow when writing the literary genre. (Some say genre fiction is “cookie cutter” – I object to that term. I much prefer road map.)
That said, I firmly believe that all writing is a tough journey, and it takes tough men and women to stick with this type of career. I stopped being a wilting flower back when I was a ballet dancer in my teens. But these newer communities of writers that I’ve been hanging with made me uncomfortable, unhappy, and in many cases, depressed. (No, not all the people were downers – some of them were genuine, and sweet, and I suspect we will keep in contact. I also suspect they are romance writers.)
Thanks to zwani.com for the photo.
So it was with some measure of relief that today I allowed myself to stop following a few online conversations. I stepped back into the cozy, warm, accepting world of romance writers with a huge sigh of relief. In my eleven years of writing romance, and ten years of belonging to Romance Writers of America, I have been mentored, nurtured, buoyed up when I was down. I have received spot-on comments on my work from critique partners and contests, heard the right advice at the right time from the right workshop, and jumped with joy when friends sold, or were RITA® or Golden Heart® finalists/winners.
Through the Romance Community, I have met friends from across the world, across the country, and right here in my home town that I know, without a doubt, are rooting for my success just as hard as I’m rooting for theirs.
The romance writers’ community is one of warmth, helpfulness, friendship, and encouragement. I truly believe that RWA has it right – when the book tide rises, all book boats float. All authors benefit from one author’s success. Especially wild success, like JK Rowling and Stephenie Meyer.
Life is tough enough without having writers buy into the belief that they must put other writers down in order to make themselves rise. I am SO glad I could step away from that community, and return to the warmth, acceptance and nurturing of the romance writers.
There are plenty of places to go if you want to get beaten down by life. It’s nice to know there’s a place I can go to get the support from others in my profession. Thanks, Romance Community. I totally Heart each and every one of you lovely people.
~~~
Thanks for stopping by, I love having you visit!
by Christine | Writing
Thanks to thegeminigeek.com for the graphic.
I can’t figure out how to title this post. It’s about commitment, see, and I just can’t seem to find the right title. So it’ll wait until the end I guess. Hopefully by then I’ll have figured it out.
I’m about to start a short story, a sort of prelude to DEMON HUNT, the 2nd novel in my Caine Brothers series. I’m primed – I’ve combed through my email, I’ve scoured Facebook, I’ve Triberr’d and Tweeted and gotten another cup of coffee, went to the bathroom, have music on…the house is empty and I’ve got a full four hours in front of me to be creative…
…but actually starting the story is still a dance step or two away from me. So now I’m procrastinating by blogging about my procrastination. I guess this whole thing is a process.
Commitment to the story is paramount. Deciding where to begin is crucial. I already have my characters, my setting, and I know where I want the story to end. But the variables within the parameters I’ve set are endless. Plus, plotting in any depth gives me hives. (Shallow plotting? I’m there!) How, then, to choose amongst a myriad of possibilities?
I don’t know why this story, at this time, has me balking at the gate like a skittish horse, but there you go. Its true, what every successful writer has said – writing doesn’t get easier as you go along. With every book, you learn how much you don’t know. With every book, you strive to get better – deeper, smarter, stronger. So the bar is constantly being raised, and the writer never meets their own expectations.
I guess I have to learn to be okay with that.
thanks to Dr. Sven Goebel
Panic doesn’t go away with knowledge. Accepting a hit of panic along with a floodtide of joyous writing seems to be the only way to go. Understanding that the fingers need to just begin – commit to the first words – then the rest of it will come. Permit ourselves to write a shitty first draft – farts and all – will at least get the draft down.
Revision after that is a writer’s best friend. DEMON SOUL went through six completely different first chapters (and numerous main character name changes) before I found the right first chapter to give the right tone to the story. That sixth new first chapter was what helped me sell to the editor.
I know all I need to do is hop to it. Get the words down. 15,000 of them (short story, remember). Once they’re down, I can groom them, perfume them, pluck their collective eyebrows and give them a lovely glow with the right foundation. Once it’s all dressed up in its go-to-party outfit, the story will be ready for publication, and I’ll be one more step on the road to realizing how much I still don’t know.
I guess I’m ready to start. After I get myself another cup of coffee, put on some socks (my feet are cold), and change my playlist to something more soothing than Muse.
What about you? What do you find yourself doing, before you feel ready to plunge into a new project? (Ah, there it is…my title!) I’d love to hear about your tricks and tips to getting those first words down.
