I think a lot of things. But for one, from a woman who used to want to save the world or at least write an award winning novel: motherhood has humbled me. Now? All I want is to enjoy my life, have healthy, satisfied children, and laugh. (If we are laughing, I imagine, the world will save itself.)
Books, after all, are the best escape. They last longer than chocolate (and for that matter, sex), and cost, compared to therapy, spare change.
Judi Fennell is one of the writer's on my writing/blog network who has a gift for transport. (No, she doesn't drive a limo. Well, maybe a metaphoric limo.). Her new novel IN OVER HER HEAD (yes, love that title) that features a fantastic male torso on the cover, is not mere romance. As one reviewer said: "IN OVER HER HEAD is a delightful, quirky blend of humor, adventure and passion." What could be better than that?
Judi's also one of the mom breed. I asked her if motherhood ever comes up in her books. (Dumb question, I know. We're talking adventure, romance, desire here, not sticky fingers and yes, you know I'm going to say it--POOP.)
Here's what she said: I never really thought about it until answering this question, but my heroine's mothers in the first two books (In Over Her Head, and Wild Blue Under) really do shape them and make them who they are in the story, which I guess all mothers do, but without giving anything away, there's something that deeply affects both of those heroines. A mother's love plays an even bigger part in Catch of a Lifetime, the third book. It's funny to me that I put it in those first books, almost without realizing it. It's amazing how much we, as mothers, affect our kids and have been affected by our own moms. Having my children has been one of the great gifts of my life.
So far, her kids aren't ready to read her books. A good thing. I never could stomach the romance or the sex in my mother's novels. Still can't. Sorry, Mom, but as far as I'm concerned? You're a eunuch.
But since you aren't Judi Fennell's kids, you might want to read her. Nothing beats a great escape. Speaking of, I have to stop blogging and go eat some chocolate.