When thinking about writing a story, one of the things I’ve always found difficult is the “fleshing out” of the characters I’m trying to write about. I have to admit, it’s much easier if I don’t have to do that at all. If I’m writing about myself and what I do to get a story idea I don’t need to make up anything – I just write about what’s happening at the moment, a no-brainer! Plus, I’m not very complex – what you see is what you get and if you don’t like what you get, then don’t look. Right? Totally!
Maybe you should know a few things about who I am now. Though no longer the “I’ll show you my boobs for a dime” kid, I have retained my tomboyishness (whoa – the spell checker hates that word) and my softball throw distance record STILL stands at my old high school. That’s way cool! My sport of choice now is tennis.
Speaking of that, one of my greatest lessons as a kid was when my best friend and I were going to play some tennis and my dad told us he used to play. We sort of snickered at him, thinking, “Sure, old man, whatever.” He offered to hit with us and we laughed and said “OK” thinking he wouldn’t stand a chance. We couldn’t return his serves. We were humiliated. We never spoke of it again (sorry Laura, I’ve spilled the beans on this page and I hope you can forgive me!).
Tennis is a fabulous sport. I think, if he were alive today, my dad would be proud of how well I play now – so much better than when I was that smart-alack kid daring him to step on the court. I’ve passed my passion on to my son and am trying to pass it along to my grandkids. Not sure it’s working, though. My granddaughter said to me the other day, “Grammy, I just don’t get it.” Sigh. Maybe some day she’ll discover just how gratifying it is to smash an overhead for the winning set point but, for now, she’s oblivious. She’d rather read. That’s not bad, either.
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