I felt it coming on yesterday - the winter cold. I prayed it wasn't some type of crazy flu. The scratchy throat, fatigue, and the dull headache began in the morning and I immediately started a round of Airborne, sprayed Zicam on my tongue and began popping probiotics. Could I nip this upper respiratory illness or flu bug in the bud? I was hopeful and determined, but I usually have one nasty cold per winter. Ugh, was this the one?
I made a pot of tea, put on thick ski socks and wrapped myself in the dark pink chenille robe that my daughter left at my house one Spring break and got cozy on the couch with the television remote. I curled up with one romantic comedy after another. I did. For about ten hours. That's a lot of love, romance and break-ups for anyone! An overload, really. A movie marathon of meet-ups, hook-ups, break-ups and happily ever after. All that did was remind me that I was a single woman in my 50's who is more likely to be hit by lightning than find love...great.
Food. Food would make me feel better. Since I had nothing but three eggs, no butter and no cheese for the omelet I was craving, I called China King and waited patiently as the woman finished screaming at someone in Chinese before giving her my order. I held the phone away from my ear as she barked my order and then, I waited 50 minutes for a quart of Won Ton Soup and a pint of Garlic Shrimp that promised to be hot enough to kill this cold and clear my sinuses.
As I waited for the delivery man, I flipped through the stations and decided that a pay-for-view was in order. Nothing caught my eye and then, I saw the title of a movie I'd wondered about, The Word. I'm a person who buys books by the title and reading a tiny bit of the back cover. I don't like to know what a movie or book is about before watching or reading, and God love you, if you tell me the ending! Since I hadn't had the energy to tackle the edits on my novel yesterday, I thought I might be entertained and inspired by watching a movie about a writer.
The Word was well-acted, but to me it was a limp film about a struggling writer whose manuscripts are rejected time and time again (not great for my morale or headache) and who discovers an old manuscript inside a leather briefcase he finds in a Parisian antique store. After reading the masterpiece and agonizing a bit, the writer decides to copy the exact manuscript, word for word, and give it to an agent who immediately wants to represent him and his book. Said writer becomes rich and famous...and of course, the real author of the manuscript comes forward. I thought it would have made a better murder mystery which it would have been if I'd discovered that someone else had stolen my lost manuscript and called it his/her own!
I never connected with the characters of this film and it was a good lesson in writing. They seemed one dimensional to me and the film felt rushed. We must connect with our readers at a deep, emotional level. It just wasn't there for me. Although the film was entertaining, I was left with questions and there were holes that were never filled. It was the kind of movie that left me shrugging my shoulders at the end. Eh.
Before falling asleep, I thought about my own manuscript, A Decent Woman. I vowed to make sure that I didn't leave holes and/or create unrealistic loopholes in my story. Will readers love my characters and will they relate to them, especially since my heroines live in Puerto Rico in the 1900's? Will I receive many rejections along the way to publication? Do I have enough thick skin to withstand negative reviews? Will I find love before I turn 60?! Yes, all these questions before bed! Ha ha!
I woke up several times last night, grinding my teeth and blowing my nose, but slept relatively well. This morning, I woke up feeling a little blah and decided that my three friends, Airborne, Zicam and probiotics, will keep me company today along with my heroines. I love my heroines and I still believe in my story.
I do and so, on we go. Cold or no cold! I've got work to do.
Peace and love,