Every now and then, I get into a phase. Some might call it obsession. Me, I just call it enthusiasm.
Among my past phases: Sanrio, the Spice Girls, boys, and Harry Potter. Because I’m extremely nostalgic, and still a kid at heart, I will love each and every one of them until the day I die, but (thankfully) the intensity of that love will fade.
(Making room for NEW intensity!)
Right now I think my friends would agree, Dooce is my big obsession current phase.
I’ll be honest, I’m addicted. But I do think I’m learning a lot by reading each and every post in her archives. Sometimes it’s useless info (like what she was reading on July 30th of 2004) but sometimes it’s truly brave, or hopeful, or heartbreaking (in the most beautiful way), or just plain hysterical.
Her ability to turn anything — the ordinary – into a captivating story, it’s spectacular. It’s what I’m enjoying, and what I’m trying to learn.
That’s why I originally had “learning to be funny one dooce at a time” as the subtitle in my header image. But as Andy pointed out, that sort of gives the impression that I’m copying her, that I’m not that original, that I’m not doing my own thing. And that isn’t true.
(I’ve since changed the subtitle to “always leaping before she looks,” which IS true. I plan to change the header every few months anyway.)
In general, I don’t do well with things that are hyped up. Like, god forbid I take part in a trend, right? So I refuse and resist beyond all reason (just ask Angie) and I deny myself the wonder of things like capri pants, ballet flats, and Harry Potter. FOOL! (And yes, Angie, you were right about all of the above.)
In short: me? Not so good with the fads. And in literature, writing in the first person seems to be a very, very big fad right now. It’s something I’ve always sort of thought of as a cop-out, like, shouldn’t you be able to tell a story without having to pretend that YOU are actually telling the story?
BUT. (Butt!) I’ve read a lot of great books written in first person (like anything by Paulo Coelho and Amy Tan) and I know that this stupid prejudice of mine is just that: a STUPID PREJUDICE.
Not only that, but I’ve been thinking. And let me tell you, me thinking only leads to bad things. (Often tears. My own, of course. I don’t make other people cry.) In this case, the bad thing I thought of is that I probably need to rewrite The Good Daughters. In first person.
(I bet if I’d asked Angie, she would have told me that from the start.)
“The problem with being funny,” she said, “is that then no one thinks of you sexually. Unless you’re funny about sex. But personally, I’d rather sex be good than funny.”
I’m not sure whether I can work that into a story or not, but it came to me in the shower a few nights ago, so I thought I’d share. I guess it’s part of my attempt to learn how to be funny. I think I still have quite a way to go…
(Why is humor so difficult for me??)
In other news, I finished Amy Tan’s The Opposite of Fate on my business trip last week, and I was blown away. It had been sitting on my shelf for the past 4 years (I kid you not) and now I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time before experiencing it. I give it a 5 out of 5 stars (as reflected on both GoodReads and Amazon) and highly recommend it to anyone who
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