Why does everything really important hit me at akward hours?
Lately, I've been stepping more and more outside of myself and going 'wow' about this whole motherhood thing. I mean it is really great that we are chemically, hormonally programmed to have certain reactions regarding our children- I get that. It seems to fall in line with the whole survival of the fit thing. I just didn't think I could wake up(me, who sleeps like a dead log) because I recognize the pattern of my child's footsteps running quietly but frantically from room to room as she is embroiled in a night terror.
So things like that make me realize that motherhood reaches deep, like morning glory roots, twisting and turning and wrapping itself around the entirety of me until I know by the slight sound of padding feet that something is about to erupt.
I've bee reading like crazy the past few days, trying to find some decent YA books to review and every cat and dog with a keyboard appears to have written a YA romance involving vampires or witches or faeries or all of the above or some other made up thing.
And then I read a book that was just a romance. It was simple and sweet and the main characters didn't have to fight demons or suppress their true nature or want to suck each others blood or eat each other's hearts out or anything.
I find myself asking where the mystery of the human heart has gone? And I will say this, down 'Twilight' haters, down: this whole movement is not of Stephanie Meyers creation. Girls loved those books not because of the prospect of eternity- girls loved those books, as far as I can tell, because they took sex out of the whole love equation which is really hard to do these days. And doesn't every young girl who falls in love think the object of her affection is perfect and gorgeous and... If you look at the current Adult Bestsellers and the whole 50 Shades phenomenon, most people who read them will think they are ALL about the sex. But if you really pay attention, the real love story is what draws readers and it IS NOT about the sex at all, it is in spite of it.
Anyhow, from one book reviewer to the entire book writing population, the heart is a mystery- it doesn't need extraneous bs to fancy it up. Love is maybe the most write-worthy experience there is. Love may even be why we exist, despite the flotsam and jetsam that get in our way, despite what our televisions tell us, despite our desire to buy more, build bigger. It is, perhaps, the greatest work and consequence of our life, to have loved others, to have connected to them.
We don't need vampires and werewolves and fairies and witches for that. (Picture = me saying PLEASE!)
Done well, writing about the paranormal is interesting or fun for the reader. A good fantasy world is a fabulous escape and a good place for adventure, but for those of us who have to review your work- writers: please do it well. And don't forget that at the heart of things, well, the heart is good enough. Fads will come and go, empires will rise and fall and as long as we people are around, some of us will be trying to capture the ineffable qualities of what it is to love another, vampires and werewolves or not.