I'd like to take a moment to defend myself. About what you ask? Well, the fact that I have on numerous occasions mentioned the hotness of this guy, or my crush on that guy, or anything else along those lines.
My sixteen-year-old self is a very prevalent part of me. In reality, I still feel more like a silly teen than a mature and all-knowing mother (which is what mothers are supposed to be, right?). That's probably why writing YA came so naturally to me. And why, if I can get a little luck on my side, I might actually be successful at it (pleasepleaseplease). Sixteen-year-old me looks at life a lot differently than thirty-year-old-me. Sixteen-year-old me has innocence, big dreams, stupidity... and notices hot guys. Guys who all happen to be younger than thirty-year-old me (which is saying something, I think).
The other side to this story is that I am a very private person and prefer not to blog about my children. My blog is dedicated to my writing, and everything that that entails. All the inspiration, motivation, things that make me want to write, people that I want to write about, etc. Sixteen-year-old me is a very big part of my writing. She's the one who comes up with everything teen- the dialogue, the emotions, the silliness, the guys-while thirty-year-old me is the one who tries to make the writing good, and who brings a broader experience of the world to the story.
Who do you think would win in fight? Personally I'm
Yes, I know I'm married, a mother, thirty (ow, that hurts to write that and sadly it's going to get worse in a month)... Some may think it wrong, inappropriate, silly, ridiculous, you get the point, that I mention things like that. I myself at different times have thought about how my sister-in-law blogs about these important and serious issues that are affecting her family while I'm blogging things like how Alex Pettyfer should be my movie Alric.
Yes I am a happily married mother. But that is not all that I am. Being married, being single, a mother, a writer, a dentist, a lawyer, tall, short, fat, thin, white, black... one of those things does not make a person. Heck- three of those things does not make a person. Melanie Stanford is made up of zillions of different things- life experiences, interests, mind imaginings, etc. While wife and mother is my main role, writer is secondary. With writer (especially YA writer) comes the reemergence of my sixteen-year-old self.
Actually, my sixteen-year-old self has never really gone away. It's embarrassing to admit this but I enjoy watching High School Musical with my seven-year-old daughter. I feel like a teenager again when I sing and dance around my room (or my whole house) to Taylor Swift or These Kids Wear Crowns. Most of the books I read are YA. And if I've got nothing to watch on tv, I'd much rather choose iCarly or Big Time Rush than some nasty, sex-and-violence-filled crime show or oh-so-boring discovery channel piece. True.My sixteen-year-old self is a very prevalent part of me. In reality, I still feel more like a silly teen than a mature and all-knowing mother (which is what mothers are supposed to be, right?). That's probably why writing YA came so naturally to me. And why, if I can get a little luck on my side, I might actually be successful at it (pleasepleaseplease). Sixteen-year-old me looks at life a lot differently than thirty-year-old-me. Sixteen-year-old me has innocence, big dreams, stupidity... and notices hot guys. Guys who all happen to be younger than thirty-year-old me (which is saying something, I think).
The other side to this story is that I am a very private person and prefer not to blog about my children. My blog is dedicated to my writing, and everything that that entails. All the inspiration, motivation, things that make me want to write, people that I want to write about, etc. Sixteen-year-old me is a very big part of my writing. She's the one who comes up with everything teen- the dialogue, the emotions, the silliness, the guys-while thirty-year-old me is the one who tries to make the writing good, and who brings a broader experience of the world to the story.
So there you have it. Read and feel free to sigh in exasperation, roll your eyes, or mock away when I comment on Alex Pettyfer's hotness. Because while thirty-year-old me flushes in embarrassment at my own comments (or at your eye-rolling), sixteen-year-old me flushes in embarrassment, giggles, and then just shrugs her shoulders. And neither of us can see you doing it anyway.
Sixteen-year-old me vs. Thirty-year-old me
Who do you think would win in fight? Personally I'm betting on thirty-year-old me- she's a lot scrappier.