Tuesday, September 8, 2009
It's Tuesday. I'm supposed to be posting about craft AND mature heroines. Cripes. Even on a good day that's a reach for me. Today (er, the day I'm writing this) isn't a good day. I paid estimated taxes, property taxes, stood in line for a bazillion hours at the post office, and ate a hamburger bun for lunch. So now I'm poor, tired and malnourished. I might-could get up the nerve to talk about mature heroines, but I'm not going near the craft thing. My notion of craft has more cooties than a kid with swine flu.
Swine flu. Now there's something I can write about. I should've been a doctor. My handwriting is sufficiently atrocious, and I possess a certain untoward curiosity. If you want to show me your boil, I'll look at it and give you free, but potentially harmful, advice. In that spirit, I offer my experience with N1H1.
My son calls California the "State of Emergency" because they have a budget crisis, wildfire or earthquake every fifteen seconds. Georgia, where we live, used to be the Peach State. Now we're the N1H1 state. You hear about a confirmed case here or there, but in reality, "The Flu" is all over Georgia like a fog of Aqua Net hairspray. Both my kids had it.
1. A bit of a sore throat for a day or two before.
2. Headache and fever (101 or so) and a cough sets in.
3. Fever lasts or one or two days. Cough lasts a week longer.
4. You're contagious 24 hours after the fever ends. This is on the authority of Dr. Swails, our most excellent pediatrician.
5. Incubation period is 1-3 days.
6. If you have another potentially serious condition, see the doctor. Otherwise, it's not as bad as the regular flu. Don't be one of the idiots jamming the ER just because you get a bit of a fever.
7. According to the kids, never admit you had swine flu unless you want to be treated like a leper. You were just ill, got it?
9. Call it N1H1. It sounds more cultured.
10. Mostly kids are getting it. For once, us mature heroines are getting a break.
11. Can you believe I tied swine flu to mature heroines? Those weird associations usually only work in Frank Zappa songs.
I love books and movies with mature heroines. By mature, I mean women of post-childbearing age, 45 and better. I'm throwing this out there for discussion -- I don't think mature heroines will be a staple of the romance genre as it's currently being written. Why? Well, it isn't because of the heroines. They're interesting, sensual, just as eager to be in love. It's because we savor alpha men in this genre.
Men get mellower with age, like good booze. It's harder to craft a believable 50-year-old alpha hunk than a strapping young one unless he's a multi-millennium-old paranormal guy. And I guarantee Mad Max Methuselah isn't rocking the world of anyone who uses Oil of Olay.
Older alpha men seem relegated to the ranks of the Bad Dudes. Evilness must elevate testosterone levels. They're power-lusting politicians, war-mongering generals and tyrannic tycoons. Come on, don't we think they're a bit silly for swaggering on?
What do you think?
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