I have three wonderful, precocious, amazing and at times, aggravating little boys. Ever since the birth of our first child, I have always been happy to have boys and as each one came, I only wanted boys, truly. Even now, when I am still wanting another (which to this wish my husband absolutely refuses to comply), I think about how much I would love to have another boy. Why? Perhaps because my life is already imbued with testosterone that the thought of an estrogen-filled little being startles me?
This thought occurred to me recently when I saw a group of girls, perhaps somewhere in the ages of 8 to 12, and I noticed how they were all aware of everything. Aware of what they wore, for example. Their hands touched hair and centered jewelry and straightened sleeves or belts. Their eyes constantly darted around, even while they chatted with their friends, to see who was around and what others were doing, and - as I once was that same little girl myself - wondering who noticed them and how they looked or appeared to others.
Boys of a similar age, at least in my experience, are more about themselves. (Ha, let's face it, does this ever change?) They rarely care what they wear or what their hair is doing. They notice others only if it is to their advantage and if the situation doesn't provide instant entertainment, they only want out. Standing around hoping to be noticed is the last thing on their minds. In some ways, simply by these observations, boys are easier to deal with. That's my theory at least.
Turning a page now, how do these observations translate into my writing? A lot, it seems. Those little girls caught my eye because I've forgotten this aspect of the feminine being. Being a wife and mom can do this I suppose.
For awhile now I've noticed when I delve into a story, I have the info about my hero lock-stock-and-barrel. The heroine? Well, let's just say I have to work a little harder there. Seeing this group the other day made me realize that being surrounded by males day-in and day-out has made me lose touch with some of my inner girl-ness. This in turn is what's made me work harder for my heroines. Make sense?
So now I'm trying to work at getting back to that girl-ness. That inner female that does notice others and is aware that others notice her, whether she wants this or not. That female side that is inherently different from a male. Jeesh, does this mean I need to wish for the not-going-to-happen baby of the female variety? Laugh with me, I know my husband is, and wish me luck. With the writing, that is!