|Hmmmm... I wonder what the|
weather is like back home....
While I haven’t begun writing again, I see a light at the end of the tunnel to get there. Namely, the Indiana RWA’s November Retreat coming up mid-November. I’m looking forward to a long weekend with my fellow authors that I can spend devoted to writing, because I need some big chunks of uninterrupted time to get this third story revamped and moving forward. From there, I should be able to peck at it more effectively. But the thought of trying to tackle it before then, in between dinner and dishes and kiddo’s homework, is too daunting to even consider.
|Hey you... Rebel Scum... Shouldn't you|
be writing a romance novel right now?
Aside from this, the wonderful memories my family and I made while at Disney are still rippling now that we’re back home. Granted, it was a rough transition from sipping coffee under the warm morning sun peeking through the palm trees to chugging coffee in my dark and chilly car on the way to work. And facing the To-Do List that had piled up in my absence almost undid the week’s-worth of relaxation.
Distance made the heart grow fonder where my kitties were concerned, however. Even my normally stand-offish Sugar has been uncharacteristically friendly and loving. This is a mixed blessing… while I’m delighted that she now wants to be held (all. the. time), it adds a special challenge when I’m also trying to make dinner or relax on the couch with my computer. A week away also weaned them off their shredded cheese addiction, so that will save me some time and money in the long run.
|Apologize for enjoying a romance novel?|
No way... I'd rather kiss a Wookie!
Kind of tying in with Kristi’s post this week, I love romance novels for the same reason I love Disney: the absolute get-away from the tedious responsibilities of real life for awhile. They both can provide fantasy, thrills, humor, bonding experiences, princesses, heroes, villains… depending on what you want from them. But ultimately, they both provide escapism. Entertainment. And the need for that is not to be belittled or held in disdain. Consider popular television shows or movies. They offer us the same thing, and no one feels obligated to explain why they want to watch those shows. No one considers them a guilty pleasure or feels compelled to watch them in secret or preface their viewing with an “I know it’s silly/garbage/sophomoric, but I love (insert show or movie).”
I embrace my need for a mini getaway via an entertaining romance novel. I celebrate my need for total escapism when I’m at Disney World and Gaston, the villain from “Beauty and the Beast” walks by, wags his eyebrows at me, and says in his most come-hither baritone, “Well, hellllloooo.” I need those. I want those. And I'm not about to apologize for it.
My youngest said it best during an exhaustion-inspired fit of tears while waiting for the Star Wars fireworks show at Hollywood Studios: “It makes me so angry when people say it’s just make believe… It’s not make believe. It’s not pretend. It’s MAGIC!”
Yes, Sweetie. Yes, it is.