“They Last Forever, You Know–These Movies” ~ Tom Hanks
This particular quote comes from Tom Hanks talking about Philadelphia, a movie he starred in as a man living with AIDS. This quote came from talking about the gay men he worked with during the making of the film, men that were gone. This particular Actor’s Studio I watched happened during the 1990s. Already only a handful had survived so I’m sure most, if not all of the men, are now gone.
And what fascinates me about this quote is that we live dual realities. One reality we accept wholeheartedly. More than likely it’s the less painful one. We watch a movie. We read a book. For me, we write a book. But it’s the memories attached to that action. I’ve written about this idea before on Southern Fried Chicas. But it still compels me. I can remember one thing about my real life when I re-read/edit my own stories. I’m sure I can be transported in time when I read Love, Unexpected, my first book. Even without opening the word doc. I can recall the drive–the newness to this writing thing. I may have had angst, but I can’t recall. It was such a new thing and so wonderful and so empowering nothing could make it horrible.
Oh, well, submitting it. And I’m eternally grateful no one actually replied to that first submission. My state of mind hinged on no one telling me the truth about my writing. Goodness it was so precious and fragile that I can say if someone told me I couldn’t write I would have stopped. Yes, I would have stopped just from someone saying “Keep your day job.”
And with each book I can attach a writing/life lesson and memory to. How Much You Want to Bet? = whims can lead you down interesting paths. See Megan Run = this writing thing is not easy. I Said Never = All of them aren’t mean to be published. Diary of a Food Addict = You’ve got to love this thing even if your spirit is broken. Everything You Need = You can write for money. I can do this with all of my books. All of them. They are much more than words on a page. May be a bad thing in the scheme of things, but I can tract my life by what I’ve written.
And some days I believe that may be the point. I’m curious to know what memories you can get from the books you’ve written.
