When Clark Kent turns into Superman, he ducks inside a telephone booth and makes quick work of his boring tan suit. He emerges a man unrecognizable as his previous self. His bulging muscles, once hidden by his ill-fitting clothes, are made obvious through the gratuitous use of Lycra. His mild manner is replaced by bravado, and his face transformed simply because he lost the glasses, and assumingly, put in some contacts. He possesses not only the ability to fly and unbelievable strength, but he is suddenly charming and able to reduce women to a blabbering mess with merely a look.
Now, I’m no Superman, but I do like to think of my life as author as being somewhat similar. I do not have a phone booth, but I do have my bedroom. Downstairs I am simply – Jess; wife, mother of two, keeper of the home, maintainer of life, with a day job as a nurse. But when I enter my bedroom at night – I become so much more! I become Jess . . . wife, mother of two, keeper of the home, maintainer of life, day job as a nurse, and author.
As any self respecting chubby girl, I tend to limit the amount of Lycra present in my wardrobe, but I do have a costume of sorts – pajama pants and an old t-shirt. In an action opposite of Clark, I actually put my glasses on which should instantly transform me into a sexy romance author – like Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone. In reality, I’m pretty sure my attempt at “sexy librarian” comes off mostly “librarian”. I do not have super strength, or speed, but I do have the ability to write several thousand words in a single sitting . . . which may or may not result in quality entertainment.
Meek, mild-mannered woman by day . . . meek, mild-mannered author by night.