Writing From Real Life

So, the joke goes something like this: “Be careful, or I’ll put you in my novel.”  People laugh when I say it, but I have to admit, there is a smidgen of truth to the joke.  Oh, don’t worry; when I finally break into publishing, no one is going to have to worry about me turning them into some dreadful villain in a novel, fully recognizable to all.  That would be wrong on a lot of levels, but the reality is our lives and our personalities seep into what we write.  Every experience, every person, is part of who we are, and inevitably these things wind up on the page.

We collect experiences.  That’s what life is. Our bodies and minds become vessels that catch laughter, tears, frustration, and joy.  Our parents, our siblings, our teachers and our friends are in there, along with the mean girls, the bullies, and the negativity they bring with them.  They bad stuff fights for control and sometimes, it wins.  That happens to me.  I let the bad overshadow the good; it’s one of my biggest faults and what usually happens is it takes something or someone to give me a good kick to get my mind, and my attitude, on the right track.

I wrote a short post at the beginning of the week about my recently-held class reunion.  A couple of things that happened over the course of the weekend really upset me.  I tend to be oversensitive, I know that, but usually some time and space allow my feelings to settle.  When I had time to process, I was able to put the weekend in perspective and while there is no doubt there are a couple of people I would be happy never to see again, the vast majority of it was really great.  I went to school with some unbelievably nice people. The work the organizers of the reunion did was truly appreciated and when I look back at the pictures, the smiles tell me we did a really good job.  And even though I didn't have as much fun as I could have had, the pictures don’t lie.  I did enjoy myself, and I was really glad to see my friends.  It had been too long, but it will not be that long again.

So the question is--who’s going in a book?  What experiences have I collected this time?  For those of you who thought I had too many cosmos to remember, you’re wrong. (HA!) Here’s what I have so far:

The high-school sweethearts:  I can relate to them as I have been with my husband since we were seventeen-years-old, but I think this couple has been together even longer.  She’s still beautiful, he’s still handsome and even though there were no overt displays, you can tell they are totally devoted to each other.  There were little things--mentions of what they’ve done together, their obvious pride in their children, the mutual respect they share and then there’s the way they look at each other.  I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but I did and it warmed me to see a love story still going strong after all these years.

The long-time friends:  These women have known each other since middle school, in many cases, and they’ve been through everything together--love and heartbreak; marriage and divorce; birth and death.  Their relationships aren’t perfect, but they have a deep bond that has developed over time.   There were several groups that fit into this category.  I got to know one bunch a little better as we were planning the party and the dynamic is amazing.  I’m a little envious because this isn’t my experience, and I know I’m not going to be a part of it, but it’s nice to know friendships like this are out there.

The happy guy:  He’s still happy.  Everyone still loves him and with good reason.  He sees the best in everyone.  He’s kind, has a big heart and drives a really cool truck.  When he tells you you’re awesome,  he means it.  He’s definitely going in a book. 

The really brilliant guy:  He sat near me in AP European History class all those years ago and we laughed together as our teacher talked about his dog, Tiger.  This guy has an Ivy League education, but he doesn’t have a pretentious bone in his body—he never did and he never will; he’s still friendly, still enthusiastic about everything and I hope I don’t lose touch with him again.

People I wish I'd known better in high school:  There was a woman I spent some time with whom I've been in touch with through the planning process.  We had breakfast together when she got into town and two hours flew by like it was nothing.  She's sweet, witty and has had an interesting life. New friendships are always good. (Honestly, there are a number of people who fall into this category.)

The cool gay guys:  I don’t think I have to say anything else.  What’s better than being happy with who you are?

Finally, the mean girls:  Believe it or not, the mean girls are easy. (Noooo, not that kind of easy. Well maybe they were, but that's not what I meant.)  They’ve always been vapid caricatures, and that’s what they’ll remain.  Thanks for the material ladies…you make writing a bitch a no-brainer.

I guess, when you think about it, it's not about what's going to go in a book, but instead I should be asking the question--what isn't?  There is no way I can detach myself from my life experiences.  Why would I want to?  I need the people and the emotions to keep my writing interesting.  The words on the page are just black and white, but my experiences, and the people I've known over the years, give the stories color.

Sorting It All Out

So, the reunion has come and gone, and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.  People were perfectly nice and very appreciative of all the work the people on the organizing committee put forth.  And I mean GENUINELY appreciative.  I was thanked constantly all night and I was happy people had a good time.  I wouldn't say I had a great time, mostly because I'm a control freak and I didn't really relax until the last hour.  I was a little tipsy, too, and fear I made a bit of a fool out of myself.

Friday night, when the group hit town and spent the night drinking in a local bar, was much more fun for me than the official catered party which was last night.  It was relaxed, informal and there weren't any little details to worry about. But I also know I'm not being fair.  I'm a little hormonal, I'm experiencing the let down from two constant weeks of stress and I know my vision about the main event is clouded.  I'm sure I will feel differently in a week or two when everything calms down and I'm not so tired.  Maybe I'll be able to focus on the people who deserve the effort.  People like the ones who were my friends thirty years ago and the new friends I've made because I worked on making the reunion happen.  There were classmates I was truly happy to see after such a long time, men and women who are fun and interesting and I hope we won't lose touch again.

The bad points?  I will say that two people from last night will appear in my next book and it may not be pretty.

That's one way to dump the baggage, eh?

Looking Back, Looking Forward: High School Reunions

A few months ago I wrote about how I'd gotten myself  involved in the planning of my high school reunion.  In the post I talked about wrinkles and weight and face creams and I touched on my insecurities.  I vowed to get to the gym and lose some weight.  I didn't lose much, the reunion is two weeks away and I find that my outlook has changed quite a bit.  It's not so much about how I look anymore, but more about all I missed.

When I wrote that post, I had no idea the kind of flashback it would trigger.  To say I was insecure during my teen years would be an understatement.  I had a small group of friends, didn't go out much and participated in very few activities.  Granted, my friends are great people and we had some fun times, but I was always guarded and I didn't take any risks.  I didn't get involved in many aspects of high school because I was afraid of being rejected.  Parties, I didn't go.  Talk to the 'popular' girls?  Why would they want to be friends with me?  Flirt with the boy I'd had a crush on forever?  Never.  I could go into why I felt this way, frankly it had a lot to do with how I grew up, but the bottom line was, I had no faith in myself; I was afraid.  I felt invisible and life went on around me.

Jump forward thirty years.  I carry more than the twenty extra pounds I had in high school, but I have a lot to be proud of...I have a wonderful family and a fulfilling career, for starters.  You see, when I went to college I reinvented myself.  I explored my talents, found my place in space, took risks, and was burned on more than one occasion.  In other words, I grew up.  Yet when the reunion planning picked up speed, and I thought about how invisible I felt in high school, all my old insecurities flooded back.  I kept thinking that I should forget about being a part of the planning and fade back into the woodwork.  Outside my small circle, very few people even remembered me, right?  Wrong.

I love learning new things, but I'm even happier when I learn more about myself.  Because I've gotten involved in this event, I've discovered something...I could have felt much more connected to my high school years if I'd let more people get to know me.  If I'd found my niche, been a part of something consistently rather than haphazardly, I'd have changed my story.  I didn't have to feel invisible.  Working on the reunion has brought me a lot of satisfaction and has connected me to people I never would have gotten to know otherwise.  I'm looking forward to seeing my old friends that weekend and getting to know some new friends a little better.

People malign their high school years and I often think it's more about regrets than anything else.  Maybe I'm romanticizing this more than I should, but if you could change something about your years in high school, what would it be?

Age

I’m not a big shopper, but I do like nice things and once and a while I treat myself to a pretty bag or a pair of designer sunglasses.   I don’t like paying full price, so I shop sales and I get alerts from some great off-price websites. My favorite is RueLaLa.  If you don’t know about RueLaLa, let me know and I will fill you in, but the short version is I will find beautiful, designer items at their two day boutiques that I can actually afford. (Two kids in college, need I say more)  I love when Rue has a Vera Bradley boutique, or when Kate Spade comes up for sale and I’ve gotten my daughters some beautiful clothes.

However, today was an eye opener for me and a wake-up call that I was indeed getting older. Rue has an expensive skin care line in one of their boutiques today. You know, creams and lotions and cleansers.   Anti-aging products and make-up designed to fix our flaws.  It was all there.  It was pricey stuff and I could get items at good prices.  And I got excited.  Really excited. 

I got excited over moisturizer.   Oh. My. God.

So the question is: why?  Why am I excited at the prospect of getting some expensive remedy for my crow’s feet?  And the answer is simple: I’m fighting the aging process with everything I have.  I have no problem with getting older as long as I don’t look older. I sincerely doubt I’d have actual surgery, that’s just me, but I'm not above using other methods to keep my skin looking young.

What else am I doing? I’m going out in a little while to join a gym.   I want to lose some weight and feel fit.  I’m healthy and I want to stay that way.  And if any of you actually believed all that, I have a bridge to sell.  You want to know my biggest motivator?  My 30^th high school reunion is coming up this summer and while I have no delusions that I will be slipping into a single digit dress size any time soon, I would like to look better before I face these people.   I’m vain.  That’s it. The fitness and the health are nice side benefits, but I don’t want to be embarrassed.  And the thing is, I don’t know why I care.  I haven’t seen most of these people in thirty years.   I have a long list of accomplishments, both personal and professional and that should tell people who I am.  But yet I worry and I think so much of it is tied to the insecurity I felt when I was in high school.  I wasn’t bold, I wasn’t brave and I worried all the time about what people thought. 

We've forgetten how we felt when we were seventeen, but I have a feeling those memories are rushing back for a lot of people right now.  Maybe it’s not a bad thing.  If it gets me to exercise, I know I will feel better.  I’ll be able to climb the hills where my daughter goes to college and not feel winded.  My surgically repaired knee won’t give me trouble and guess what—I won’t just have to limit my purchases to bags and sunglasses and skin creams on my favorite sale sites.  Maybe I could buy a dress, or a pretty sweater or a belt.  Wouldn’t that be lovely?

It’s possible I could change how I look and still worry.  Wrinkles, dress sizes? It might not matter.  I might still be an insecure mess where high school is concerned.  But for now, I'll let the insecurity motivate me. It’s not hurting anyone and in the long run it will help me.   

What did I buy today?  Make-up.  It made me happy and it made me realize that some of the things we experience when we're young never go away.  They go dormant and sneak up on us when we least expect it.     I will never look seventeen again.  I will never look like my yearbook picture, but then again neither will anyone else. 

Maybe this all means that I'm still a work in progress.  I'm not done growing or changing. So it's possible the insecurity I'm feeling is a good thing if it pushes me to better myself and deal with some of the demons. There are times in our lives that we have these personal epiphanies. Something triggers self-awareness.  The birth of a child, the death of someone important or facing your past can bring on a sense of understanding about who you are and who you want to be.

For the most part, I'm happy with the person I am. I have a wonderful husband, great kids, good friends and I do good work that I care about. Not a bad lot in life, even with some extra pounds and wrinkles. The challenge now is to embrace how I got here and accept the fact that I still have a way to go.  Don't we all?

I'm still joining the gym.