It was supposed to be a Monday.
Mondays are rarely ever cute. I decided I was going to make the most of my Monday by being low-key. In other words, I was going to do NOTHING. I think I did enough last week. I deserve a day off… right?
Then midday, I logged onto Facebook. I had no intention of checking out social media sites, email or even answering my phone. Seriously… my phone had been ringing since dawn and the chimes alerting me of incoming messages was enough to throw a pillow over it to muffle the sound. I had no reason to be contacted by anyone on Monday… and if it were urgent, there would have been at least three back to back calls. Never happened, so I didn’t even bother checking Caller ID. But I gave in to this nagging little voice that told me to connect with the world… and when I did… I had an Oh. Em. Gee. moment.
An author I am connected to on Facebook congratulated me on the USA Today review. After asking what was she talking about, she posted a link. I was so shocked, I fell back on my bed and hit my head on the headboard. Yeah… it really hurt, but who cares. I was featured in USA Today without having committed a crime!
We poppin’ bottles, (explicit phrase that may or may not offend some readers)!
Yes, after I waited to make sure I wasn’t going to pass out from a concussion from hitting my head and then all of the celebratory dances I reenacted, I felt like I was in a Drake video… It went something like this.
I know I did not “make it” yet and not sure if or when I will, but for an hour or so, an observer would have been making calls reporting suspicious behavior. I was THAT excited and over the top. (By the way, it took me fifteen minutes to find a clean, clear edit of that song and if you don’t watch it at least once I will give your phone number to telemarketers.. I’m just sayin’.)
Then I got scared… and I kind of panicked. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. I mean a lot. To the point where I may or may not need counseling services to get through it. Okay, it’s not that severe, but it’s bad.
And then I hopped in my car and took off driving that afternoon. A thing I do when I need to clear my head, but lately I have had so many thoughts running through my head so that was probably not the best idea. Ultimately, it led to a Starbucks dumpster diving expedition. (I accidentally threw something very valuable away and didn’t realize it until midnight Monday night… I will never be that distracted ever again. I’m still soaking in bleach to get rid of the memories.)
But the truth is, I feel like this…
Yeah… exactly. Big difference from the chick at the top that will have some serious explaining to do if she ever got pulled over by the cops while smelling like an NBA locker room post championship.
Every year, there are a handful of films that are worthy of Oscar buzz. And when they make the cut, the masses look at each other confused wondering… “Have you heard of Cadillacs on the Western Horizon in March?” And we all shrug because none of us have heard of this movie, but it’s supposed to be a piece of art with great acting and beautiful dialogue. It will make you laugh, cry and even change your life. So we all go to the theaters to see it. Of course we go. It’s the latest, greatest thing and everyone is going to see it so we can have the once in a lifetime opportunity to judge and see if this great movie is a great movie. Ironically, this movie is available on DVD and has been shown on a few flights from time to time, but now with the Oscar buzz, it’s in all the major theaters so you must see it on the big screen.
You know you will become exiled if you don’t give in and go see it, so you buy your tickets and sneak in some Goobers because who wants to pay four dollars for a box of Goobers? You wait, even suffer through the people crowding you, because they don’t observe the unwritten single seat between strangers rule in movie theaters. And then the movie starts… and ten minutes in you groan silently. The movie is just okay.
And you start to miss every other line because in your head you debate if you should give in to the hype of the movie or are you looking at it objectively. I mean… everyone else is into it, so why don’t I like it, you might ask yourself. Some possibly even walk away believing that the film studios created a marketing campaign that led us to believe it was the must see movie when in fact it obviously wasn’t. Either way, the movie didn’t live up to the “hype” of it and you are now pissed.
Okay, maybe pissed is extreme, but you are ready to tell anyone who mentions they want to see it that it was *shrug*… just a’ight.
You walk out the theater with all of the Cadillac viewers and some are just sighing romantically with a few sniffling into their crumpled tissues. You on the other hand think, what the heck was that??? I can think of ten movies that deserve that nomination. But did the movie fail you or did it fail the hype?
And the poor Cadillac writers, director, producers, actors and even the catering crew have been floating on a high because their little fourteen dollar budget film is getting recognition, but they have no clue that they are on a very delicate pedestal now. And the day after the Oscars the voice of public opinion will be unleashed… the people that helped it earn $100 million the month before Oscars suddenly agree it was just so-so… great movie on it’s own merit, but now hype has made it just okay. And their once happy, content world in the place where they ranked has shifted. They went from big fish in a little pond of indie filmmakers to small fish in a vast ocean… oh and they only learned how to doggy paddle up until then.
I can’t even swim. Well I used to know how, but then this really cute guy at my friend’s pool when I was young thought it would be fun to throw me into the deep end and I nearly drowned so I was kind of traumatized and scarred and well, I have these recurring nightmares about drowning, too… so I just dip my feet in or wade in the shallow end. I really don’t like swimming, just relaxing in water… oh crap, I am rambling. You really could care less that I don’t know how to swim, huh?
So where were we? Oh yeah… we were talking about platforms. No, wait. I meant, pedestals…
The pedestal is something author JK Rowling tried to avoid when she penned a novel under a guy’s name recently. She wanted her work to be judged on its own merits and without people scrutinizing it for her Harry Potter success or even loving it because of her Harry Potter success. I am not JK Rowling, but I know exactly how she feels and every other person that wanted to just embrace their passion without the extra… and I am scared of extra.
My unspoken motto has been I just want to grow as a writer. The Love Sessions was a personal test for me… the shallow end test without my floaties and swim board. Of course I got into the pool ready to attempt the back floating test, but I primarily focused on the doggy paddle. I was no longer afraid of the water… well some bodies of water. Let’s not get carried away.
I once wanted to be good enough according to my own standards, but now there is pressure to be more than good enough for you so if hype ever enters the picture, I can survive it. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be great for you – the reader. I just never felt the pressure of it all on a level like this.
But I am ready.
I am eager to take on the task of plunging into the water even though I just learned how to doggy paddle… and a paper bag to ease hyperventilation is no longer needed (besides it will get all wet and soggy in water). Now that I have crawled out of the scary little corner, I am determined to learn how to do the breaststroke so when (not if) my time comes, I don’t have to drown in that overwhelming ocean.
And who has time to drown in an abyss of their own fears? With all of these characters floating around in my head waiting to be penned, I know I don’t.