Mel and I had an interesting conversation this morning at breakfast.
I asked, Honey, whats your definition of glamour?
Mel: Id say that was the substance of being
glamorous.
Cheryl: Thank you, Mr. Webster. Im serious.
Mel: I guess youre talking about the practice of wearing
fancy clothes and going out for an expensive evening on the town.
Cheryl: Is that all there is to it? Doesnt it have something
to do with having perfect strangers recognize you on the street
and gush? Oh, and then there are the jewels. You have to wear
expensive jewels, and lots of them. And you need to be given an
award for something to prove youre good at it.
Mel: But the dress shouldnt have a high slit up the side,
or a very low décolletage, because then youd be
Cheryl: But maybe now were talking about fame. You know,
recognition, fame, cant go anywhere in privacy, and cant
even blow your nose in public without a photo of your scrunched
up face hitting the tabloids.
Mel: Nice car. Got to have a nice car, which means you cant
have a high slit up the side of your dress because that wouldnt
be
Cheryl: Why have a nice car when a limo will pick you up and take
you to your private jet? A person might just forget how to drive.
Does that mean wed have to sell our manual shift?
Mel: Why sell? Give it away. Just think, if youre famous,
people will pay big money to own the car you drove, and you can
give that money to charity.
Cheryl: But youd have to make sure everyone knew about it
so that photo would hit the tabloids to undo some of the damage
done by the ugly photo of you blowing your nose.
Mel: Youd have to hang out with the right people, I hear.
Its great publicity leverage.
Cheryl: Who are the right people?
Mel: You know, other glamorous people who wear jewels and nice
clothes and are famous. But you shouldnt hang out with people
who wear high slits up the sides of their
Cheryl: Why are they famous?
Mel: Who cares? It doesnt matter what they do to get there,
they just have to be there.
Cheryl: Oh.
We sat in bed, finishing our breakfast in silence.
Yes, we had breakfast in bed this morning. I think thats
what glamorous people do. Of course, I dont think the glamorous
people actually make their own breakfast. Wed have to change
that if we actually were glamorous.
Unfortunately, that would mean losing more of our privacy to have
a live-in housekeeper.
Cheryl: Were not glamorous, are we?
Mel: No, thank goodness.
Cheryl: I was recognized on the street one day by a stranger.
Mel: That wasnt a stranger, she was my cousin.
Cheryl: She was strange.
Mel: Do you actually want to be glamorous?
Cheryl: It seems to be what everyone expects of writers.
Mel: Unrealistic expectations. Are you happy doing what you do?
Cheryl: Ecstatic. Im married to you, were silly a
lot, we laugh a lot, we have a strong relationship with Jesus.
Mel: And we write.
Cheryl: Hard to do all that when youre worried about your
photo being splashed in the tabloids. Or when youre hanging
out with a bunch of people who are too worried about their image
to relax and have fun.
Mel: Forget the glamour. Ill take this life any day.
We have these kinds of conversations
often. Maybe were naïve. Maybe we want to stay that
way. Sure, weve had some brushes with glamour. Okay, not
the expensive jewels, but I have a nice dress, and I do know how
to apply makeup when I have to. Im tempted to wear a skirt
with a high slit up the side, because I know Mel would faint dead
away, and I could take a picture for the tabloids
Nah.
Hope to see you here again soon.
Glamour
The
Good Comeback
Everything has now fallen into place.
I know why I write!
Have you ever had the experience
of a friend, relative, stranger or enemy asking you a question you
didn't know how to answer, or making a wisecrack for which you didn't
have a good comeback until three days later?
That happened to Mel and me at a
booksigning a couple of days ago. This woman came to our table holding
a copy of our book, and asked, "Why do you call it inspirational
fiction?"
I should have allowed one of our publisher's staff members to answer
the question, since I actually wasn't the one who came up with that
description, and that staff member would probably have had a much
more effective answer. I said, "Well, uh, we're...um, you know,
Christians? And we, uh, you know, write from our own Christian
world view? We feel God offers hope to the world, you know? So that's
kind of...well...inspiring." Honestly, I don't always reply that
poorly, but the sneer on her face caught me off guard.
She made a big show of placing the book on the table as if it were
a piece of...um...well, you know. "There are a lot of other things
besides God that can inspire."
Then she promptly went to the other table with other writers of
inspirational fiction and did the same thing to them. We compared
notes later.
So that's why I write. Because when I'm writing a story, no one
can come to me from the pages of the book and ask me a surprise,
spur-of-the-moment question, for which I'm ill-prepared to answer.
Writing gives me time to explore all my options and focus on the
best possible reply to a seeking heart. I have the chance, during
that precious time at the keyboard, to touch a life, maybe even
to heal a hurt, or to inspire further thought.
In real life, I'm convinced that just about everyone on the planet
is more intelligent than I am, and I don't have the words with which
to share my heart. On paper, in my imagination, my characters are
smarter than I am. They can say and do things I'd never dream of
saying or doing. It's how I tell others about my God, about His
goodness, mercy, love for them. Writing is the voice I don't have.
Cheryl Hodde