Reclined at the desk, devouring a toasty sweet potato, listening to the rain on the skylights above, I think about how life isn’t poetic.
No matter how I describe it, I’m still just eating dinner on a rainy night, wishing I had adventure in my life. I’m basically sulking right now. I want to do something awesome. I want to write something awesome. At the moment, it’s just not happening. My life is pretty boring right now. I don’t have many friends, and the ones I do have I don’t get to see very often. I have lots of ideas to write about, but then I sit down to write and I draw a blank.
I want to travel. I want to be a nomad. I’m too still. I need to move. My books aren’t enough, I need to live these adventures I pore over. I know they happen somewhere, but where?
I feel like Belle at the beginning of Beauty and the Beast. Consumed with books, living in a quirky house, waiting for life to begin while the world lives on around her, and brunette. I don’t exactly want to be captured by a monster, but that would be ok. I’ve always wondered how I would get along in a situation like that. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t just bury my face in my bed and cry like Belle does. There would be broken glass and probably blood. Actually, there would most definitely be blood, although I don’t know if it would be my captures or my own. Probably both. I would try to escape, but if I didn’t make it I would beat the stuffing out of the fool who caught me. If I didn’t win, and that’s a big if, I might pass out from blood loss.
But that’s not going to happen. Because life isn’t a fairytale. Not in this dimension. Maybe there is a dimension where there are still dragons. In that dimension I would probably be in the same situation as I am now, except with giant lizards. That wouldn’t help much. Even if the existence of dragons meant we were primitive and lived in conditions similar to the Middle Ages, I would just go about my business cleaning and cooking, probably wishing I could learn, but being a woman and a serf (or the other dimension equivalent) I won’t have the opportunity. I’m probably married to an old guy there. That’s kind of a disgusting thought. To make it even worse, I would know that somewhere, maybe somewhere close, there are glorious battles and vicious beasts. I’d like to think I’d be like Eowyn and go out to fight anyway, but in reality that kind of stuff didn’t happen all that often, and not to commoners.
I guess that’s why I like stories like Mulan, Beauty and the Beast, Brave, and Lord of the Rings. People, specifically women, living their quaint little lives and then something terrible happens. Whether it’s war, a family crisis, or marriage, something happens to shake them. Part of me doesn’t want something terrible to happen. But, then, nothing big happens without tragedy. Tragedy hurts though. I don’t want to hurt. But, I need adventure. True adventure only happens with pain, or the threat of pain.
That’s where I am right now. I’m just past opening credits and we are still establishing the world. Something is about to happen, there is just no way to know when.