BTT: Super Babies; Crazy Parents
Cathy De Los Santos asks:
If you could write a book, what would it be about, and why? (Though, of course, some of you already HAVE.)
I swear, I think I come up with a new something I simply have to write a book about, on a daily basis. Will I ever do such a productive thing? The chances are slim to none but I’ll be more than willing to talk your ear off about it!
I pretty much live life under the general theory that everything can make a good story if told with the right delivery. As my four-year old can tell you, many of my “made up” stories have strong foundations in real events, turned on their sides and combined with equal parts magic and silliness.
Since I was very little, my mom has refered to me as her “little connector” as I have this sometimes intriguing (more often annoying) compulsion to draw parallels between completely random things. I think, in a way, that good story tellers (oral or print) have that element of constant, even obscure, connections which ultimately leads to plot building, character creation/development and, perhaps most importantly, navigating precarious terrain where fiction becomes believable and fact becomes magical.
Back to the actual question. Given all of this, you can probably guess that I’ve never been one of those aspiring writers who has stories in her head just waiting to come out. No, when I dream about writing a book, it often ties into my life. Obviously, this has changed too many times over the past 29 years for me to list them all but I can tell you the one I’d love to write, a this point in my life.
What would that be, you ask?
Why a dark satire, of course! It would be something in the same family as Death to Smoochy, but instead of focusing on the twisted world of children’s programing, my (current) dream novel would revolve around the world of private urban preschools.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that my experience in little old Atlanta is, most likely, not nearly as novel inspiring compared to more intensely competitive, old world academic powerhouses like New York and Boston. Likewise, I’m sure it dulls even in comparison to this century’s universal epicenter: L.A. (shiny, plastic and seemingly devoid of all intellectualism though it may be).
Still, Atlanta’s status as a second-rate player in the world of toddler academics actually compels me even further to write such a story. I mean, if sweet, laid back, old south ATL can turn out the tales I have after just three years in the business, I can only imagine the wellspring of inspiration I’d come across if I did a national interview and combined the most fiction-worthy delight and horrors into a collaborative piece of art imitating life. It just might prove scary enough to frighten the pants off of the most ruthless, put together helicopter mom.
Well, that’s “all” (obviously whatever I decide to write needs an editor to keep my ramblings in line). Clearly I’ve been thinking about this for a while but, again, actually acting on the project may be a dream never realized. I’ll be sure to let you all know if I eventually decide to take a stab at it (which, at this rate, will probably be when our current infant class graduates from their PhD programs).
You’ve talked about this before haven’t you? It sounds familiar. Because I think I responded that this would be a brilliant topic. Rich. My kids attended a private Catholic pre-school and grade school (and soon to be high school) and I could sit there and just observe for one day and would have enough for a novel. Freak shows, over-obsessed, micro-managing clones is what they are. Their poor kids don’t stand a chance.