You're a Loony, Miss Lucy

I'm sure many of you recognize one of the funniest scenes of all time--the Black Knight vs. King Arthur from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  The Black Knight engages King Arthur in a fight over a footpath, and Arthur swiftly divests the fellow of his arms and legs.  But through it all, the Black Knight refuses to give up.

"I'm invincible!" declares the Black Knight while hopping on one leg.

"You're a loony," replies King Arthur.

I watched this just yesterday and suddenly, it came to me.  I must have laughed with this scene a thousand times, as Monty Python is a major influence on me as a writer.  Hell, as a person.  But this time I finally got it:  I am the Black Knight.

I'm the girl who never says die. In the last two weeks, I had a cold, a major personal setback followed not one hour later by a horrible sciatica attack that put me in bed for a week, my car broke down to the tune of $1200, I received multiple rejections for multiple projects, and my cat barfed in my workout sneakers.  Not that I'm allowed use them at the moment, says my BFF the chiropractor.

I cried.  I railed at the unfeeling universe.  I popped muscle relaxers like it was my job.  But, in the end, you know what I did?  I hopped on my one remaining leg, picked up my laptop with my phantom arms, and started editing a book.  My superheroine book, to be precise.

The heroine of that book, who I beat over the head repeatedly with the plot twist bat, keeps going.  Maybe she shouldn't.  It's nuts that she keeps trying and working and smiling in the face of those who would laugh at her.  But she does.  And so do I.

Sometimes I think...Lucy, some of your ideas are too weird.  They're funny, but too weird!  JUST BE NORMAL.  But I'm the Black Knight, and none shall pass.  I am who I am.  And I will flail on the ground until I can flail no more, dammit.

I've really thought about this since I realized that I'm the Black Knight.  A loon is not the best patronus.  The Black Knight ultimately fails!  But that's only because King Arthur refuses to battle anymore, so I say ol' Knightey won the fight.

I've been told from a reader that my character Samantha Lytton inspires her.  She inspires me, too.  All my heroines do, because they're all loonys.  They keep going, they keep working and, ultimately, they get their happy endings.  Who knows?  Maybe the Black Knight met a lovely nurse and they lived happily ever after until the age of thirty, when most people in the middle ages croaked.

After all--he was invincible.

Self-Love is Sexy and Good for the...Brain

My husband and I just got back from four days in Palm Springs, where we'd rented a house with a pool and pretended to be rich.  It was a good fantasy, the adorable mid-century house with the crystal-blue pool in the back yard.  We needed a getaway to turn our brains off and de-stress.

Just before we left LA to drive the two hours or so, we were a little late, and my husband was stressing out big time. He not only had wanted to get out of the house earlier, but blamed himself for not doing so, and thus, began a cycle of self-flagellation.

Leslie Knope does not approve!

I said something spur of the moment that kind of became a mantra: We're only allowed to say nice things to ourselves this weekend.

We're only allowed to say nice things to ourselves this weekend.

It may seem silly, or trite, or even rather useless, this sentiment.  But I found myself saying it to him here and there, and to myself quite a lot.  When I fussed over an outfit to go out to dinner in, being hyper-critical of my appearance...say nice things to yourself, Lucy.  So I took a step out of the negative lady programming screeched at us from every TV show, movie, and magazine, and told myself I looked nice.  And I did!  Cute dress; bangin' body (if I do say so...); sexy, wild hair.  What's not to like?

I did this again and again over the few days.  When I felt guilty for putting my writing work down for a few days...I told myself I deserved a vacation.  When I might have had too many margaritas and accidentally left the hot dogs out on the counter all night...I told myself that everyone makes mistakes.  I urged my husband to be kind to himself, too, and I saw him relax more and more as the days went on.

This morning, it was back to the grind for us.  I saw the mantle of responsibility slip once again over my husband's shoulders.  I gave him a kiss and said to him...let's keep the rule going.  We're only allowed to say nice things to ourselves in our heads.  Because you know what?  It works.  It's a much pleasanter brain to live in, this one that's being kind to itself.  I will shove out the negative, cyclical thoughts...and treat myself the way I'd treat a friend or family member who was being too hard to themselves.

In my regular life, there are certain sneaky hate spirals I go to again and again, brought on by the grief I've been coping with, or book sales and writing frustrations. Today, I stopped these nasty thoughts by telling myself that's not nice, Lucy! Would you ever say this to a friend? Then stop it, and also you look cute in that skirt.

I encourage you to be nice to yourself today.  Pay attention to the negativity you throw at yourself--I bet you don't even realize it's there, do you?  But it adds up, and it's so cruel.

I'll help:  Hey you, reading this amazing blog--you are only allowed to say nice things to yourself today!