The Writer’s Life Vs. The Real Life
By A.J. Llewellyn
With the social whirl that makes up the end of the year it’s come to my attention that I am a bit schizophrenic. I think all writers are. It’s not a new observation perhaps, but it’s a valid one, especially around the holidays.
I love my friends and family, but I have so many books in various stages of completion/edits/promo that I veer between my imaginary world and the real one, and oh yes, I do most often prefer the fantasy one!
In my books, my gay couples rarely cheat. The men love each other and communicate easily. The forgive each other, have romantic dinners, and manage to overcome the various crises of all those around them. They even manage to have sex, even when they have children in their lives!
The reality for many gay men is nothing like my books. I was made painfully aware of this over a pre-Christmas dinner with friends last night at a gay couple’s home. I mention they’re gay because it is pertinent. I am in the middle of doing rewrites for a book originally published several years ago. The couple in question inspired it. I trooped to their home and should have known it was a bad sign when I dropped the wine bottle on their doorstep and it broke,
They were lovely about it, but there was tension in the house as we all chatted and waited for dinner. The house stands on Mulholland Drive, overlooking Los Angeles. As usual, I began plotting a book set right in this home and imagined a sex scene taking place in front of the log fire. Oh, I could see it all. Every body movement, every kiss, hand gesture, you name it. I ran off to the bathroom to jot it all down in a notebook and returned to find a scene of total disaster.
The two men were arguing over the electricity being shut off earlier in the day for nonpayment. Though it came back on, their temperamental oven refused to work and the turkey and ham were sill raw inside it. They were upset with each other’s in-laws, with social services for deeming their home inappropriate for child adoption – it went on and on. We ended up ordering Chinese food and laughing about life, but of course, being a writer, all these negative things only enhanced the scene I planned to write.
In my mind – and in my story – once the guests had gone, the happy couple would kiss and make up by the dying embers of the fire. I suspect it’s not what really happened, but I don’t want to know. I believe in true love. I believe that it conquers all. And I believe in happy endings.
I like to think there is a place for love and magic in the real world. At this time of year and every other season. I wish you a holiday time of love, and joy, and yes, I wish you the belief in all things possible. I wish you a year of all good things.
Merry Christmas,
Love, AJ
