On days when Madam Muse refuses to appear, or when I feel that writing is the equivalent of working on a chain gang, I daydream about doing something else for a living. My top escape fantasies are:
- Become a mailman. Woman. Person. Whatever the politically correct term is. The big attraction to this job is that I’d get to walk around all day, so I’d get really thin. Plus, I’d get to wear a uniform, so I wouldn’t have to worry about what to wear. This is of crucial importance to someone who once opened her front door wearing lemon colored harem pants and a Ringo Rocks! t shirt from 1975. On the negative side, I haven’t figured out yet how to handle the heat of summer, and the US Postal System is on the rocks. Note to self: see if mail people can do their job in the nude, as long as their mail satchels are strategically placed.
- Join the Merchant Marines. There’s no age limit to this profession, as long as you pass the physical. How hard could it be? I’m sure all you have to do is be able to climb a mast and properly wield a telescope. Plus I love to travel, I love the ocean, and sleeping in a mesh hammock is Number Four on my Bucket List.
- Work on a cruise ship. I’d be a really good entertainer: I can juggle, and I can also sing Bonnie Taylor’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” perfectly. I could easily brush up on my kazoo skills as well. Seriously: who doesn’t love kazoo music? Have you ever heard “Memory” from the Cats done on a kazoo? Haunting. I’m not kidding.
- Visit elementary schools as a Mary Todd Lincoln impersonator. This one is actually the most viable: I’m plump, I’m moody, and I have a very tall husband with a beard who puts up with me. I’ve been trying to talk him into playing Abe to my Mary, but so far it’s a no go.
- Get a job as Bono’s personal secretary. I know, I know, I know: he’s the size of Rumpelstilskin and he never shuts up about aid to Africa. But I’ve had a mad crush on the man since 1981, when U2 released their first CD, Boy. Think about what a cool job it would be to be his PA: “Could you please call Edge and ask if he got his check for three hundred million dollars from the last tour? Because I haven’t gotten mine yet. Also, you know that luncheon I’m holding tomorrow at the Plaza to raise money for impoverished romance writers? Find out if Obama has any food allergies. I’m sure I can talk him into making a huge donation for these poor, struggling souls.”
Of course, if I ditched my profession, I wouldn’t have been able to write books like BREAKAWAY, the latest in my New York Blades series. It combined two of my favorite subjects: hockey and Ireland. Here’s the back cover blurb:
They had it all planned out: college, marriage, happily ever after.
But it didn’t quite work out that way…
Erin O’Brien was everyone’s favorite in Ballycraig, while Rory Brady was the town’s golden boy: the local lad who moved to America and became a professional hockey player. Rory promised to return to sweep Erin away to the life of her dreams in New York. But the bright lights and late nights turned his head and he never came back.
Two years later, Rory realizes he’s made the worst mistake of his life. Heading back to Ballycraig, he’s confident that all he needs to do is flash his winning smile and Erin will fall back into his arms. But Erin’s moved on.
Racing the clock, Rory needs to prove to her that the man she fell in love with is still there. But can happy-go-lucky Erin risk it all and give another chance to the man who broke her heart?
Intrigued? BREAKAWAY hits the shelves on February 7th. I’m also working on the next book in the Blades series. The writing seems to be going pretty well right now, but that’s all I’ll say. I don’t want to jinx things…
To find out more about my New York Blades series as well as The Wild Hart Saga, check out my website at http://www.deirdremartin.com/.