Perspective Positions

By
Thomasnovels

I know you know that old scene. As soon as I describe it, you’ll see it in your mind’s eye and will know exactly what I’m talking about. Picture a guy on the phone, talking to a sex line operator who’s getting him all hot and bothered with nothing more than softly spoken words (or barking out orders, depending on his preference). (Why do we say bothered? No orgasm has ever bothered me. “Excuse me, Miss, I hate to bother you.” “Oh no bother, go right ahead.”) You just know that when the scene shifts, she’ll be a fat, middle-age woman in curlers and a nightgown instead of the nubile vixen he’s picturing in his head. Sometimes that’s how I feel. I’m a fat, middle-aged woman (sans curlers and nightgown) operating the keyboard to produce the same effect in readers with written words.

Words create pictures in our heads. I’ll prove it. Think of some of the profiles you’ve read on those dating websites. (Be honest. I know you’ve looked.)

Male - “Hi. I enjoy long walks on the beach, road trips and cooking romantic dinners for us to share in front of the fire.”

Female – “Hello. I love cuddling on the couch, candle lit nights, hitting the flea markets and am family oriented.”

Feeling pretty good about these two people? Picturing those romantic evenings? Here’s another perspective of the same profiles.

Male – Long walks on the beach means he wants to go fishing. Road trip translates into his elderly parents live out of town and he has to go cut their grass and take them grocery shopping on weekends. Cooking and dinner in front of the fire is trickier. Could denote a pass through McDonald’s drive-thru before going tent camping or he sets the smoke detector off every time he walks in the kitchen and calls the fire chief by his first name.

Female – Cuddling on the couch means she works two jobs and passes out as soon as she sits down. Candle lit nights indicates she’s trying to save on the electric bill. Shopping at flea markets could mean fun or signal money problems. Family oriented translates into her adult children still live at home with her or she has a herd of little ones and she’s looking for a replace daddy.

(Cynical, aren’t I?) The point of all of this is when we read or hear words, our mind attaches our own pictures from our own experiences (or fantasies) to their meaning. So when I read a book and you read the same book, it’s not really the same book at all even though the words don’t change on the page. We are picturing the scenes from our own perspectives.

When I read something from the late 19th or the early 20th centuries, there’s so much descriptive detail in there, I find myself wanting to skip ahead just to get back to the story. (No comments, please. I love those books just like the rest of the devoted readership.) Paragraph upon paragraph of details right down to the last leaf hanging on the tree. (And of course, there was no sex back then.) Maybe pre-television readers didn’t have as many pictures as we have floating around in their neuron networks. I know a few commercials I wish I could flush out of my head.

When I write a sex scene what I’m picturing and writing is not what you’re reading and seeing. “Her dress slipped to the floor exposing her braless, bare breasts” or “She yanked his belt open and lowered his zipper so fast, he suffered a moment of fear before she freed his penis and took him in hand”. See? I didn’t have to tell you where they are at, what time of day it is, what color their clothes are, what the circumstances are or what size their body parts are. Your mind did that for me (and you). And just like with the sex line operator, you didn’t picture me (jeans and tee) sitting here (dark dusty apartment, laptop glowing screen) thinking the pictures, forming the words, pushing the keys and controlling your libido through the Internet.

Autograph Advice

By
Thomasnovels

Come on. Admit it. You cannot wait for someone to ask you for your autograph. Your heart twitters (no, not tweets) at the thought. And trust me you’re right. It’s even better than your first-time at sex. When first-time sex happens, you’re all scared and tense and sometimes it’s even unexpected. (What, this person really wants to see me naked?) But you have fantasized over and over about signing your first autograph and I’m betting you’ve even added flashes from the paparazzi in the background. (Reality check – writer not film star.)

My funniest autograph request came when a mother trailing two pre-teen girls approached me at a book signing. I wondered if mom was buying a racy romance for herself or if she was going to buy a book for one of the girls, I would have to confess my novels need a warning label (ah … you know there’s sex in there, right?). She said they didn’t want to buy a book but the giggling girls had never met anyone famous and wanted my autograph. I have to admit it took me three heartbeats to realize they were talking about me. I signed the back of a promotional bookmark for them.

This is going too sound simplistic, but test out your pens. You don’t want the ink seeping through onto the next page and take several incase one of them gives up the ghost on you. I also set out a stack of business cards and bookmarks printed with my booklist and website information on the table. When they buy a book, they get a bookmark or if they hem and haw, you have something to handout to remind them to check out the website.

The worst book signing I ever had was in a nationally known bookstore who scheduled me up front and the local save-a-kitten organization in the back. I spent the day directing frazzled moms with tots to the kittens and the bathrooms. I couldn’t even talk the moms into buying a book because apparently the mystery was gone from their lives and they equated romantic sex with the results … the tots. My daughter offered to go next door to the pet store and get some mice to release (proud mommy I was that she thought of that creative solution) but I declined. While it would have made a great scene in a story, I did want to be invited back to the store next year.

Let me introduce my daughter. She’s great to have along at book signings. You might want to consider having someone with you. If you have to visit the kittens … ah, bathroom, you don’t have to gather up all your stuff when there’s someone with you to watch it. Plus, you’ll have someone to talk you down during the is-anyone-ever-going-to-ask-me-to-sign-a-book-why-did-I-ever-think-I-could-be-a-wrtier dry spells. When I get busy (thank goodness) my daughter takes pictures of me for the website and promotional articles. She also keeps me supplied with iced coffee. I’m not sure if she wants me hydrated, hyped up or running to the restroom.

And thinking of promotional articles, the strangest autograph I ever signed was in the Salvation Army where I was shopping for wall decorations for my new apartment (ah … writers pay, remember). This woman approached me and asked, “Excuse me, aren’t you that person who was written up in the paper?” Now, I live in a medium size city with only one newspaper and when someone says you’ve been written about in the paper, it usually involves an arrest record. And this hadn’t even been the daily paper but the weekly artsy supplement. Amazed and proud at being recognized, I replied, “Why yes, I am.” “You write books or something, right?” Or something. “Ah … right.” I looked around at the stacks of used paperbacks written by authors who are more famous and richer than I’ll ever be and wondered if they had ever had found themselves in these situations. “Here. Sign this. My mom reads and maybe she’s heard of you.” I signed the back of her shopping list.

This is where I find myself with a different problem. I write under five pen names. When signing autographs, I not only have to remember where I am but who I am. When I’m at an established book signing to promote a new book coming out, it’s easy to remember one name. But my fingers have to be constantly reminded not to automatically write my real name. I can also look like an idiot when it comes to introductions. “Hi, I’m the author here to do the book signing and my name is … ah … ah.” I keep a copy of the book near so I can refer to it to find out who I am that day and hope no one yells at me from across the store. I never run into this problem with my eBooks. eBooks are really hard to autograph.

The best autograph request I ever received came from my daughter when my first book was published. And she deserved the first signed copy. She is the one who had to live with me through weird writing hours, burnt food I forgot I was cooking, rejection emails (they’re not just slips anymore), emergency ink shortages, whining about career choices and the imaginary people who lived with us. She has been my support person through it all and the minute she moved out, I sold my first book. (I’m sure there’s no correlation.) I’m just hoping one of these days she might actually read it.

Except for family, friends and lovers, I sign every autograph with ‘best wishes’. Life starts with our wishes. “I wish I had love in my life.” “I wish I had a cheeseburger.” “I wish I had more money in the bank.” “I wish I could write a New York Times Bestsellers List novel.” Just like stories begin with ‘what if’, live begins with ‘I wish’.

Best Wishes,

Grace Thomas
Teresa Thomas
Mozella Thomas
Paige Endover
Tinker Thomas