Monday, May 14, 2012


In 1998, when I was twenty-eight years old, as my fourth published romance novel, I wrote “When a Man Loves a Woman” for DELL, featuring a heroine and hero who were both in their early 40s.

In 2011, when I was 41 years old, I got the rights back to my book and re-issued it electronically as “When a Man Loves a Woman: Enhanced Multimedia Edition.”  This required, among other things, re-reading a story I hadn’t given all that much thought to in over a decade.

And here’s what I realized: My 40 year olds… sounded like 28 year olds.

They were just a little too clever, a little too snarky, a little too… young.  And they weren’t nearly tired enough.  (My husband asked, “Do they have kids?”  “No.”  “Well, there you go, then…”)

With all due respect to my husband, I think it was more than that.

The fact is, I was a very mature 28 year old.  Serious, ambitious, responsible, downright dismal, at times (those who knew me then, feel free to concur, below).  But, it still wasn’t enough.  No matter how mature you are as a 28 year old, you have no idea what life is like as a 40 year old.  At best, you’re making a close enough to fake it guess.  At worst, you miss the mark completely.

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