This seems the sort of thing my grandmother would say, only I can’t remember her saying it and I don’t feel I have the right to it, but it’s with me so I aught to do something with it.
There is a practical widow in my first novel Ellesmere that I feel is well suited to these words, only I don’t know if she is the sort to give into the folly of love after burying two husbands. Besides, she has three little girls and a teenaged sister she must launch into society.
Maybe, I’ll have a man say it. Only what sort of creature would he be, to have such a statement assigned to him besides, progressive and quite possibly, my absolute favourite person in the world?
I like the idea that a man would be the one to say these words. It even has a base in my line of consciousness for it makes me think of a Sydney Pollack film or that hybrid fellow George Clooney made of the good men in his Goodnight and Good Luck.
You know, the sort of male to whom I’m referring... Someone reminiscent of Robert Redford in Three Days of the Condor. A man who is well aware of his role and the weight of words. I’ll make a genuine attempt now to cast the parts and see if I can’t flush out a story worthy of these words.
I hope you're having a lovely week,