How old are you really?

So when I’m galloping around and swiveling my hips in Zumba (Latin-Hip-Hop aerobic dance) class at my gym, I picture myself at that age, with no wrinkles or saggy neck skin or knee dimples. Which is also, by the way, why I stay back from the gym mirrors. Fuzzy vision is my friend, ahem.

In fact, when I go out to a restaurant or bar or a party and catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror I always hesitate…who is this woman? Not the smooth-cheeked, glittery-eyed, perky blonde with the trim figure in my head, but a slightly worn out female with a hopeful expression but signs of…age. Sigh.

What age are you locked into in your head? Do you know why you stuck at that age? For me, I think I was at the crossroads of insecure youth and the sky’s-the-limit adulthood at the time.

Of course it took a few more years for me to really become an adult (and some would say I still have a ways to go) and a few more to achieve my dream of being a full-time novelist, but the journey began in earnest that year of my life.

And now I see no end in sight to the stories I want to tell about my late-twenties heroines. I just sent off two new story ideas to my editor, am working on the galleys for my first SuperRomance, A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS, out in November and expect revisions any day to HOME TO HARMONY, to be released in January.

So maybe a 27-year-old spirit in an, um, well, older body is not so bad after all!
All my best,
Dawn Atkins
www.dawnatkins.com

During the early years of marriage where I did not bother to make a few b’day requests, I was a bit disappointed. I mean, my husband tried. I’d get a gift, but probably not a card. And never a cake. With no cake, there’s no singing, no candles, no lights out brouhaha and clapping. Call me juvenile, but isn’t it fun to be fussed over once a year?? I occasionally baked my own cake. But as I grow older, I realized this is silly. It’s my big day, I can dang well have a cake that I didn’t have to put in the oven myself.

So this year, my husband phoned from Sam’s Club on my special day to see if he was forgetting anything. Great! So thoughtful! I immediately prompted him to remember that there is a birthday basic that’s a sweet and he really should pick that up. I assumed this was an obvious request since we’ve had a birthday cake debate for years in this house. Well, he acted like he knew exactly what I meant and said, “Of course! No problem!” He showed up at home with two pounds of chocolate. No cake.

I had to laugh. He tried, right? And who can argue with two pounds of chocolate? We ended up baking a cake together that night and he took on the process of making homemade frosting all by himself. He even scavenged through the cabinets for the sugar letters we used to use on the kids’ cakes and created b’day messages in a special code language since there weren’t enough vowels for all that he wanted to say. It was the best birthday cake ever. Lots of fuss. Lots of family time.

And as a special birthday bonus… I’ve been eating chocolates all week.

***Tell me this– a birthday’s not a birthday at your house until… what? Do you like to have dinner out? A special food? Flowers? What birthday traditions make your big day complete? I’ll give a copy of any book from my backlist to three random posters since it’s my birthday week and I want to share the joy!***