Let's talk about love, baby! ... ATF

~ Yes, another ATF post. You'll get used to them. I have lots to say about my trip.

As a writer of books (see, I actually said I was a writer, OH. Give me about three decades before I add any word like "good" or especially "damn fine" before 'writer' though, ok?), books especially about women, I take an interest in relationships. Especially those relationships that define women. Also, recently I've discovered that I'm not really a 'romance writer'. That is to say, I write stories that have romance in them, but the romance is not usually the central theme of the story.

This was a very major thing for me to discover, especially since I really thought I wanted to write romance. My current passion, Almost Southern, has a pretty hot romance in it. It is not, however, a true romance. If you've read the three excerpts (and really, why wouldn't you have read those, since all you have to do is click on that link, or go over in the sidebar and scroll down to where it says "read some excerpts"), you may see how I've set the story up to be about Glory, instead of the romance between Glory and Pete or Glory and her mystery voice that can whoosh her with a look. Yes, there will be romance. Of course there will be romance. You will get to see Glory in all of her... well, glory. But the story is really about her. As a woman. And some of the stuff that she has to deal with. As a woman.

I think that a good story is just that... a good story. I don't think it matters if the writer is a man or a woman, or if the story is about a man or a woman. However, I do think that there are differences in how men and women write about things. I think that's because men and women take very different views of the same situation. I also think this is a very good thing. Wouldn't it be dull if we all painted the canvas the same way? If we all used the same words to describe the same situation? I'm not just talking about the individual voice that each writer has. I'm talking about being able to tell, sometimes just by the way the writer describes the emotions of a person, whether the writer is a man or a woman. Again, it's not to say that one is better than the other.

As a woman though, I love the challenge of exploring the range of emotions that we women experience every day. At the top of that list of emotions, for me anyhow, is love.

This past week has shown me so many glimpses of so many different types of love. It's overwhelming when I sit here and think of all of the loves that there are, and how we each choose to express those different types of loves in our own unique ways.

For instance, I saw the love of a husband for his wife when The Man reached over and brushed his hand against my cheek while I was driving. He stared at me in a way that made me wonder if I was wearing cheese on my face. I wasn't. He just wanted to touch me. We've been together for more than just a few years, and it still never ceases to amaze me that this man chose me. Me. (No, I mean ME, not that other "me" that lives north, ok? Geez, that just never gets old!) I was humbled by the emotion in his voice when he whispered "You're beautiful". Of course, his glasses were broken, and he was exhausted. Still though. That's a very deep love. Passion in his voice, and tenderness, and even a little bit of awe. Together through familial opposition, parental death, financial disaster, childbirth, major moves, career changes. Even one of those generally has the power to erode love. But not for us.

I saw the love that a father has for his daughter, as I watched my amazing father-in-law give away his baby girl on her wedding day. He was so calm, so proud. I realized then that no matter how much I love my girls, there is a very special bond between a girl and her Daddy. I was honored to witness it that day, and I am forever grateful to have been part of the day.

The love of a groom for his bride is an overwhelming thing. Walking down the aisle in front of my baby sister on her wedding day, I kept thinking I'm not going to cry. I did really good. Until I turned around and got a look at Andrew's face. His eyes were shining with tears, and you could see his heart in those tears. The day that they'd waited for, planned for, anticipated, was finally there. His bride was walking to him, and their lives were going to be joined. And for the record, I was not the only one that cried. If I'm not mistaken, every single one of the Ladies in Pink (that would be me and Alison, Erin and Rachael) were sniffling when we got a glimpse of the groom.

The love of an aunt for her nephew (and his very large family) was something that I've never really seen first hand. However, The Man's Aunt Laurie showed that to me in spectacular fashion. She opened her arms, and her lovely home, to my clan over the weekend. She made us feel so much a part of her family, so welcome, that we literally did not want to leave. In fact, we missed a dinner date in Indy because of her hospitality. Thanks, Aunt Laurie. You're amazing!

I saw the love of grandparents for grandkids that live far away. The Man's folks live in Ohio. We live in Virginia. There are quite a few state lines between us. However, the love that was shining in Lynn's eyes when she saw my babies was unmistakable. Bill was the same way. I had a great time with my "other" mom and dad.

Brothers and sisters share another type of love, and that was a fun thing to watch. I know the love that I have for my brother, but it's always interesting seeing that same relationship played out between others. The Man's brother, Tim, is really funny. I'm not sure that I ever realized that before. He's also a damn good partner at pool. And The Man's sister, Heather, has this special sparkle in her eye when she looks at either one of her brothers. It's difficult to watch sometimes, not knowing all of the stories, not being a part of the history. Thankfully, I understand it because of my love for my own brother. Special, that sibling love.

Friends also share a unique love bond. Even "new" friends that are really old friends. Meeting Charity for the first 'real' time could have been, maybe even should have been, weird. But it wasn't. Because of the special love that we have for each other. With constant e-mails and phone calls, we've built this unique relationship that not even physical geography could hinder. It's different than the love you share with family. But trust me, it is no less wonderful.

Finally, there is the love that I share with my history. My history takes the form of this incredible woman that lives in Oklahoma. She's going blind, she sometimes smokes like a chimney, she watches more Turner Classic Movies than any person should. She's my Grams. When Gret knocked on her door holding pizza boxes, you could have knocked Grams over with a feather. Thankfully, she let us in the house, even though she was NOT expecting us. Yes, we surprised her. And she never complained. She just made room, passed out blankets, kissed her great-grandchildren too many times to count, and laughed. A lot. I will love the wind-chime sound of my Grams' laugh until the day that I die.

With all of the different versions of love that I've witnessed in just the past few days, is it any wonder that I love exploring the transactions of everyday lives? Love is such an integral part of my day, every single moment of my every day, that I couldn't not write about it.

Romance? Yeah, it'll be there, in my stories. But really, there's so much more to love than that. Don't you think?