Cutting back on writing is helping my tendonitis, but oh, man, it's really rough. I've been writing every day for years, if not always for public consumption. Staying away from the computer voluntarily is reminding me of how difficult self-discipline is for me. It's particularly tough because I've been inspired to work on my Regency romance again. This is chiefly due to rereading a couple of novels which I remember as being okay, and discovering they're absolute crap. There's nothing like crap to make a person declare they could do better. Of course, I know most of the writers weren't trying to churn out Great Literature. On the other hand, these novels screamed, "My mortgage payment is due!" I felt genuinely insulted by the slapdash plots of Margaret Westhaven and April Kihlstrom.
The problem is I know too much now about the real Regency to be able to enjoy anything less than dead-on accuracy and properly plotted stories with good characterization. At one time, I was too thrilled by reading anything set in this fascinating period to care much about the literary side of it; it was enough that someone had researched the details and liberally sprinkled a jolly little story with them. I craved the history, not the romance. Now that I'm more informed about the period I find expository lumps are no longer a worthwhile substitution for good writing. A visit to a used bookstore is in order; I'm going to sell all but the best of my collection.
Work continues insanely busy, but Butch (our mild-mannered Philippino bookkeeper whose real name is Emmanual) had his surgery delayed so I do not have to do the ARC report along with everything else. There was a great deal of yelling and inventive cursing in general (not at each other) among the agents all week, but oddly, the tension level has dropped slightly. I have taken to eating candy daily, a most unusual activity for me. Stress, stress, stress. I have also gone back to drinking Diet Coke, but I feel guilty about it, okay?
Instead of typing, I have taken up computer activities that merely require reading. I have been following a debate on the Well in the Women's Conference about the politics of dying one's hair. It got so hot and heavy in the topic where it started (beauty tips) that a new topic was created so everyone could hotly debate the pursuit of youth versus accepting aging without interrupting queries about what mascara is truly waterproof and so forth.
My own stand has been stated here regularly, but I will review. I definitely have problems with looking in the mirror and seeing a silver-haired middle aged woman. There will be no "aging gracefully" around here as long as beauty shops carry hair dye. Grey hair doesn't make me look dramatic, only tired. No one has ever said, "Ma cher, you look so fabulous with your silvery stripes!" They have, however, repeatedly said, "Are you feeling well?" and "Oh! You are so grey!" whenever I stand under a bright light. Well, forget it. My self-esteem can handle fat, wrinkles, and loss of perkiness, but not the grey hair.
And yet I don't think I'm entirely the dupe of youth-loving society. I believe in accepting myself, including my body shape and my physical appearance, as attractive, and delightfully unique. My body is not a temple, but it's a very useful and healthy mechanism, and I try to take care of it. I don't do a very good job of it in terms of diet, but I certainly try to maintain all the usual standards of personal care. I'm not ashamed to look my age, but I don't feel obliged to do so. I think my outward appearance sends a message about my personality, and I enjoy playing with that message. The only message I hate sending is, "I can't be bothered."
So it's quite true, I don't want to lose my youthful appearance any sooner than I have to. However, I am perfectly truthful about my age at all times, and if you ask you'll find out what size clothing I wear. In other words, I'm not pretending to be someone I'm not by coloring my hair. I'm trying to make myself look attractive, and that definition for me includes attempting to minimize the effects of age. I may give up dying my hair someday, but I'll still always prefer a soignee appearance to a so-called natural look.
I feel certain that hair dye is going to figure into my new Regency novel somewhere. I know they used henna, but I think I'll try to find out what other colorants were popular in the early 19th century. Neo-Grecian Formula, anyone?
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