GOOD MORNING. Yes, indeed, this post is for you. Who you? Always women.
I write with females in mind. Audience is a she, la audience.
Why not men?
Hmm. Emo intelligence, for one.
They may not get it. Although I've recently met a couple of males who are using
the right side loft of their brains, windows wide, most men I have known would
not get my stories, would get bored of them, in fact would regard them as a
kind of sweet torture. As in, why would anyone want to read this? and what a waste of time. Like seeing his
wife on the couch watching the Hallmark Christmas movie-of-the-month in July
when he returns from the hardware store, her cheeks wet with tears. Oh, baby
jesus, he thinks as he heads into the garage. That's the strongest image
currently, so let's go with that.
Why such a skew? I see women
everywhere I go. Men are almost in half-color, faded images, deserving of a
word or two, but really not anything to concentrate on. I am not being
snarky---this is truth. Other than my son, who I would take a bullet for (but
we're white, so I probably won't have to) I rarely notice a man. Oh, except
that time I went kayaking and rented a vessel. The man gently pulled my hand by
the fingers, closer to him just by inches, so he could attach my wrist-paid bracelet
to my right arm. Oh...it was like my brain fireworked and my heart kind of
stalled. Starved. Perimeno.
Is there any in between? When I
am sitting next to a man at a plastic work party, my husband on my other side, four-tenths of my brain is thinking about my appearance in this man's eyes. Am
I pleasing to look at? (What the hell is that?) I am not at all interested in
knowing this man better, or not even fascinated by his conversation, but
somehow I need to look good for him?
Relax. I'm not going to analyze myself in front of you. A blog does not a therapy session make.
(But... there's a fear in the presence of a man, am I accepted, am I attractive, will he hurt me?)
Audience. Ya, I don't know. Is what it is.