I love it when cats sit like this, as if their limbs have sunk beneath the floor into another dimension. I call it "assuming loaf position," or I just say, "Kitty has no legs!" Vivi looks at me like I'm dumb every time. Such a sassy thing.
But I know she's just tucked her legs under her, hiding them from view. I'm still seeing most of her above the floor's "surface." This is a poor example of Ernest Hemingway's "iceberg theory," but it still gets the point across.
There are parts of Vivi I cannot see. What she shows on the surface isn't her whole being. When I'm writing, I try to approach characters the same way. When I begin writing a new book, as I just did for NaNoWriMo, I try to get to the heart of what makes a character shift directions, internally or externally.
For this NaNo first draft, chapter one begins with Penn having a revelation. She and her husband are at a party full of his friends and coworkers, and every other woman there has children except Penn. While the moms chat about kids, Penn is left out of the conversations, still unsure if she wants children at all.
Penn's turning point is this: she meets a mother who lacks the light and exuberance of all the others, and Penn sees herself trapped into motherhood the same way.
It's true that maternal instinct doesn't make childrearing enjoyable for everyone. This scene is based on my own epiphany where I came to the same conclusion. Having children wasn't for me. It was both freeing and terrifying to know, wondering how the people around me would respond. The difference was, my husband didn't mind not having children. Penn's husband does.
And the story goes from there.
I decided to start Penn's journey at the party scene for a reason. Yes, I could have had a chapter showing the strain in her marriage due to their different views on having children, but I wanted to keep the focus on Penn's tension. She's learned something about herself and her possible future. Does she tell her husband she's getting her tubes tied (extreme reaction), or does she decide to fall in with the majority of women her age and have a child when she's pretty sure the experience will break her (lets her husband/cultural expectations control her future).
I'm now on day 3 of her journey, and it has been both humorous and uncomfortable. Many of Penn's thoughts and experiences are based on my own or those of people I'm close with. It's going to be gritty, real, outlandish at times, and emotional.
As I excavate under Penn's surface, I'm also hoping to uncover and weed out any latent bitterness I may still carry over faded mom-friend relationships. I couldn't stay "errand-runner," "on-call babysitter," and "that person I can complain to." Former mom friends left our meetings feeling lifted and encouraged, while I felt like my own life and struggles were invisible to them. I almost forgot what it was like for someone to ask me how I'm doing, and engage in my response.
But out of these emotions comes Penn's story. The point of her journey isn't to shame mothers or call out certain behaviors: it's to reveal the balance of what makes strong and lasting bonds. Friendships are rarely 50/50. I would have managed with 90/10 most days. But if even that ratio isn't met over long periods, it's no longer a friendship.
I still deal with guilt and wondering if I should have tried harder to keep friendships going. But chasing attention is a trigger for me that goes all the way back to childhood. When I reach a point where I can no longer accept invisibility in a relationship, I must move on. Not everyone is meant to come with us on our life journey, and that's okay.
With all this as the driving force, I hope to make Penn's story equal parts humor, emotion, and a realistic journey through friendship. We'll see what happens by the end of this month. Happy NaNoWriMo to all my fellow writers!
Keep on smilin'.
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