Writing Women’s Fiction

If I am perfectly groomed; then you will love me.

If I do everything you ask; then you will love me.

If I am a nice enough person; then you will love me.

If I provide for you, because of all I’ve done for you; then you will love me.

If I take care of you, meet your every need; then you will love me.

If I sacrifice for you, lay aside my dreams and desires to help you meet your dreams; then you will love me.

If I do my job and your job too; then you will love me.

I love happily ever after endings.  A happy ending gives me hope. I too, might someday experience fulfillment.  But, the way to achieve that happy ending is not through living women’s fiction.  Living the women’s fictions written above will make you crazy.  That kind of fiction ends on the counselor’s couch, working through resentment, despair and depression.

I’ll just sit on the beach and eat my supper

“I won’t go walk on the beach,” I said to myself.  “I will just go sit on a bench and eat my cold supper.”  Its not as though I needed the exercise.  I had walked ¾ of a mile between bus connections; another half mile looking for fast food to take to the beach; finally ending up at the local market when I found the hot dog stand closed. Decisions are hard when you are tired, hungry, and it is past7:00 PM, though the sun may be deceptively high. I was pretty tired.  Tired enough to pause a moment and deliberate as I exited the grocery. Another 10 blocks to the beach?  Or, 10 blocks the other direction toward home?  The beach never ceases to amaze and refresh me.  That’s when I decided to just go sit on the beach and eat my dinner looking out to sea.  Good thing.  When I got there, the tide was in, way in. So, I sat, and ate, and watched the sun go down.