I’m in a state of anticipation.
Normally I would say I like anticipation –I adore anticipation. When starting to read a novel, I am full of anticipation. Will I like GONE GIRL as much as my friend did? Will the inside of the latest romance novel be as good as its provocative cover? Will it be full of hot, hot, sex–but sex that is deeply charged with strong emotional feeling? Or will it be full of other excellent surprises (I’m thinking Kristan Higgins here or Jennifer Cruisie) and have me sniffling or smiling when I least expect it?
Someone said “Anticipation is the electricity of childhood.” Yup. Like that idea. Especially since I made the decision the other day never to grow old and die. Anticipation is fab-u-lous, but I’m not thinking so much of childish anticipation. No, I prefer the electric clack of amazing sexual chemistry kind of anticipation.
I AM dating myself, but when I think of anticipation—what I’m thinking of is Tim Curry’s 5 syllable 7 seconds worth of in The Rocky Horror Picture Show:
If you watch the whole song, or sing it to yourself in the shower on a daily basis like I do, you’ll see that there’s a world of potential in that one word. An indescribable, soon-to-be frothy sexual something-something just around the corner. Love it!
When I open up a romance novel I am also full of anticipation about how long it’s going to take us to get to that hot bedroom sex scene. Do I get it right away (a la JR Ward’s first book DARK LOVER) or do I gotta wait, wait, wait, for a big sex scene about three-quarters of the way through? And yes, a lot of romance writers plan exactly when in the novel knocking boots is gonna happen. Make them laugh, make them cry, but make them wait is the mantra of all successful romance writers. What I love about a great hawt sex scene right away is it tells me that I can anticipate an even better/hotter sex scene coming later. Right, all you erotic romance authors out there? ;>
There’s some famous singer from a ba-jillion years ago**** wondering about anticipation in her song and if she’s “…just chasing after some finer day…” After deciding that James Taylor ISN’T going to put a ring on it (whoops! spoiler alert) she decides that even if Mr. You’re-So-Vain only gives her a booty call that “these are the good old days.”
Hmmm, grumble, grumble. It’s very zen, living in the those good old days as they’re happening. I must say I prefer living a tiny bit in the future. Especially if today is a tad dull or full of stress. But it’s important to note her concern. Anticipation can become a form of anxiety. A form of anxiety that I’m probably suffering from now. (Feeling shut down? Unable to work? You’re probably not depressed–you just have a book out with an editor.)
But this reminds me–in my early *cough* youth, I absolutely refused to be anticipation’s bitch. During that rather brief interlude between puberty and meeting the Love Of My Life, I never put myself into a situation where I would be waiting for someone to call me. No, I’d learned something from Ms. Dorothy Parker in tenth grade English. Even the Love of My Life was told “I’ll give you a ring,”–the ‘if you’re lucky‘ part being implied. It’s important to let excitement have it’s way with you, but not to stretch out uncertainty until it forms a gigantic monstrous shape that gobbles up all your happy sauce.
So here’s what I’m going to do to divert that electricity of happiness my way once again. Through stringent mind control and…a lot of office cleaning….I will distract myself from letting anticipation shut me down. I will start a new writing project and throw myself into it heart and soul. With some attitude tweaks backed up by sheer force of personality I will trade my anticipation over what’s not in my control (the editor’s decision) into what is under my control (that first hot sex scene of my new novel.) So ‘show me the way,’ Dr. F.
****I refuse to date myself by referencing Carly Simon & ketchup.