Skip to main content

The Perfect Romance


Everyone probably won’t describe falling in love the way I’m about to lay things down. It truly takes spotting a Prince, or a Cinderella to do this. The funny thing is, and that’s funny as in ironically funny, was me finding this romancing mood after thinking back on a time when I wondered how many writers truly loved writing.

I fell in love with writing the same way we typically fall in love with a mate. First you spot him (or her), and right away know you’ll love him (or her)... FOREVER... no matter what.

As it happened for me however, the day before falling in love, I didn’t know who I was, or better, that I even was looking for a love to love. I must’ve gotten up like I did every day, night came, and the next thing I knew, I wanted to be a writer.

Without reciting what has to be now mold growing on a possibly zillion day old story, I was four when I fell in love with the idea of writing. Hadn’t wrote a thing. Actually, couldn’t even spell my name, let alone could I read or write it, yet there I was, knowing I wanted to write.

That’s when the romance started, something like fantasizing about falling in love and living happily ever after, but no action thereafter... other than hoping and wishing.

But Lucky Me! After being told I needed experiences to write, made it easier to put my mind and energies into other activities, though not without a day going by wondering when I’d meet this Prince.

And then he showed up. Gosh, a drum roll would go over nicely right about here. I knew it the second I laid eyes on him, he was my Prince. He wasn’t all decked out wearing designer shoes or anything like that. In fact, this Prince wasn’t wearing any shoes. He came to me barefoot and humble. Reviviscence was his name, or the Rev...

Trimming off the mushy details about me and the Rev... as this part in our affair could easily take me over the 5-700 words I’m trying to stay within, but as the old saying goes, the Rev... learnt me well. I will always be indebted to the Rev... Every day I think about him, especially given the fact that out of this relationship my child was born, and following this child, the plethora of dimensions that go into raising a Prince's child.

I didn’t do this with my natural children, but for the Prince’s child I stuck my head in plenty of writer resources—books—to learn the ins and outs to writing and publishing.

I read and read, and read some more. How to query agents. What publishers were looking for in book proposals. And how incredibly high those slush piles were. Man! I think that’s what I spent most of my time reading. Won’t soon forget it either. Between that and the Rev's... lessons, each time I hear of a new writer, the first thing I want to tell them is, “respect your Prince...” and he, (or she), will reward you handsomely.

Comments

  1. Once I knew I wanted to be a writer I just assumed that I'd write a book, get an agent, get a huge advance and a boat load of readers. Well. Some years later that hasn't happened and I had to ask myself why I write. I do it because I love it. I have no agent, no publisher (I'm actually going Indie). It's just me and my love for writing and a hope of connecting with readers. At this point, I don't think I'd have it any other way.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for commenting, and CONGRATS on your upcoming debut book, 'It Ain't Easy Being Jazzy.' What a snazzy title. Chic-lits, coupled by humor can make for quite a pizazz'ing read...

      Stay true to your muse, enjoy, and 'she'll' reward you back with the love.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Rumor About One Race

It’s a funny thing, how some things you hear stay with you in that sixth sense sort of way, as if the information will serve some future purpose.

True Story. I was in elementary school when a teacher got to talking about three true races—Caucasian, Mongoloid, and Negroid, and how one day there would be One Race. For a placeholder I attended Philadelphia (PA) Public Schools, K-straight thru-12 (99.98% black student population) where there was always ‘that’ teacher who would put aside a textbook to impart ‘move to the edge of your seat’ information... something I later figured out would take “dynamic positioning” to find its originating source. I even think the teacher may have said we wouldn’t find this information written anywhere.

At any rate, I’m all kinds of fuzzy about how the original three races came to be, but recall 3rd grade hands going up in the air asking why this and how that and what about this, and then somebody saying, “unt un... my mother said...”

Naturally I was intr…

When Opinions Cross the Line

Two literary topographies brought this historical commentary together; a social media Headline asserting some books are irrelevant, and Stacey Dash’s memoir, ‘There Goes My Social Life’. (My other thoughts here).

I didn't pause long enough to so much as note the social media headline, but did pause after catching wind of Stacey Dash's outspoken stance on supporting American businessman and Republican politician, Mitt Romney. Stacey is an American Actress notable for her role in the film CluelessSIGH—I’ve never seen Clueless, but have seen this actress in other films... which was what inspired me to want to read her memoir. Being a Big Picture thinker, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the hoopla behind her outspoken political views.

My great-great grandfather, born in America in the mid 1800’s, was a Republican. Per my father, historically the American working class primarily voted Republican, though he, and then me, marveled about my great-great grandfather's r…

What Makes a Book Feel Good? ...A Top 10 List

When you ...as it’s said... live and learn, you learn LOVE comes in stages. So far, I’ve come across three stages of love. Puppy Love. Hormonal Love. And the ultimate love. Unconditional Love.

Lo and behold albeit, after finally getting around to reading Roy Blount’s memoir, “Be Sweet” (a memoirist who has at least twenty some years on me), I got to reading him summarizing unconditional love as ‘just an expression’ ..."like any other two words." Now, because his memoir is largely satirical, and given the title, on top of knowing better to think I know more than my elders (haha), it was hard to tell whether to take the definition seriously or facetiously. Whichever the case, as of today I define unconditional love without conditions. Unlike puppy love, built largely on a giddy childish infatuation superficially marveling over things or people, or that hormonal love responding to the cyclones and ebbs moving our hormones in this invisible like cylinder, there are no ifs, ands…