I’m the girl everyone loves but no one wants to marry. At least I was. Eventually I convinced my husband to marry me, and I don’t think he regrets it. And even though I was only 31 when I got married, it seemed like I had spent a lifetime listening to men tell me how they felt about me, or just feeling me, only to watch them date, commit to and eventually marry someone else.
If I wasn’t married now, I’d probably be one of their mistresses.
This started in grade school. I know how certain boys felt about me. I’m not talking about being the girl that every boy wants to be “friends” with, although I had my share of male friends. I’m talking about boys who LOVED me, but couldn’t make it official. I had every variation of this. There were boys who wanted to spend pretty much every waking hour with me, but wouldn’t kiss me. There were boys who couldn’t stop kissing me, but never wanted to “go out” with me. I’ve had more “friends with benefits” than I’ve had lattes (to be honest I don’t really like lattes). Then there are the boys who loved me. Some of them even told me that they did. But they couldn’t be with me because…why? A girlfriend usually, or some other obstacle, easily overcome with a little effort that they were obviously unprepared to make.
Then there was at least one boyfriend, who stepped up to the plate, waking hours, kissing, benefits and love, only to change his mind, because the real woman for him was someone, somewhere, or somehow something else.
Why am I writing about this on a writing blog? Because publishers are starting to make me feel this way! I’m the writer that every publisher loves, that they would be with if only it weren’t for… whatever, the economy, the premise of my book, the fact that I’m an unknown, something political or personal or just that they decided that I’m too difficult when I’m just trying to be challenging.
Did I try to change myself, to get boys to change the way they treated me? Not one bit. The scratchy bitey girl that my husband fell for, and signed up for, and sticks with, is just as difficult as ever. Would I change the way I write to get a publisher to love me enough to marry me? I’ve already made it clear that I would go some distance, as all professional writers must, but I’m not sure if that would be enough.
Maybe I’ll just have to wait for the right publisher to come along. And say something like this to me: