Sure, I'm lucky. I have a great television show based on my books. My books are selling well. My children are healthy. My husband's put up with me for (almost) 32 years. I have great friends. I know some amazing people.
But I'm not cool. I like bagpipe music. I like movie scores. I'm not even remotely interested in the Black-Eyed Peas or any of the other groups whose names I constantly scramble, to my kids' amusement.
I don't go to art-house movies, not that such an evening would be hard to come by where I live. The closest I've come was renting "Let the Right One In." (I did think it was great.) I get puzzled if the ending is ambiguous. I love a good "movie-movie," which is what my husband and I call a totally improbable film which nonetheless is a lot of fun. And I adore a good B or C flick. How many times have I watched when the giant shark snatches Samuel L. Jackson in "Deep Blue Sea"? And I love it every time.
I don't watch cool TV shows. Though I've seen "Breaking Bad," and I agree the scripting and acting is excellent, I have a hard time sitting still for it because it's so painful.
I don't know how to Twitter, and I'm not sure that I want to learn. My phone is so basic that it simply makes phone calls, and occasionally I hear it and answer it. I have a sneaking suspicion it would do more if I would read the manual and learn to punch the right buttons -- but I don't care enough.
I'm not even cool enough to have an informed understanding of foreign affairs and policies of my own government, and that's something I'm rightfully ashamed of (and I ought to be). But there just seem to be so many sides to every question. As soon as I figure out what the correct stance is, someone else gives me a great argument going in the other direction, and I'm left floundering.
There's a fine line between accepting your own limitations so you can quit struggling with your disappointment, and simply being complacent with your own ignorance. I see 60 approaching me like a freight train, and I wonder . . . when is it okay to give up?
Never? I was afraid you'd say that.
No-o-o. You're not giving up, with everything you do? It's just that there comes a time when pleasure is more important than the "in thing" or whatever. I was a very earnest young woman endlessly rehashing incomprehensible foreign flicks, and we were so hip. Now, as I approach 70, I don't want to suffer so much in my off time-I'm a psychotherapist-I would rather read Sookie than Jonathan Foer, and I wish him all the luck. But I have decided that my time is really "my" time, so I do as much of what pleases me as I can. You give so much pleasure, and I'm sure that the attendant chores are chores, so you deserve some "you" time to refresh.
Posted by: lil Gluckstern | June 30, 2010 at 01:26 PM
I think the best solution is simply not to beat yourself up about what you aren't doing, despite all those people who profess astonishment that you don't tweet/watch art flicks/eat raw octopus, etc.
Do what you do best and ignore the rest. It seems to be working just fine.
Posted by: Sheila Connolly | July 01, 2010 at 07:27 AM
Sixty? Sorry, Charlaine. That doesn't count as old these days. We don't decide what's hip or cool. The world does it for us. And your Sookie books are cool, whether you know it or not.
Posted by: Elaine Viets | July 01, 2010 at 11:00 AM
Yeah, sixty. Get used to it. And take it from me, youngster, it's wonderful.
But my vote? I think you are SO cool that you are beyond "coolness." You make your own rules. And that's as cool as it gets!
What you described--what you say you're not--is "trendy." That's passing, and ephemeral. I know yo;re counting your blessings. And that is the essence of cool.
xoxoxo
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | July 01, 2010 at 12:47 PM
Then I'm becoming cooler by the minute, Hank! I find myself caring a little less every year what other people think of me. Sometimes that's a bit dismaying, but it's also FREEDOM.
Posted by: Charlaine Harris | July 01, 2010 at 01:46 PM
I have a plan for . . . well, becoming cool again isn't really something I aspire to. But at least I have some hope of learning what cool is these days. I plan to study everything the intrigues my six-year-old nephews. Eventually, I should achieve a working knowledge of modern coolness.
Right now I can report that Star Wars, Harry Potter, popsicles, and synchronized belching are way cool.
Posted by: Donna Andrews | July 02, 2010 at 05:24 AM
I think knowing one's limitations is a big step - it makes life easier. I don't like sad movies, which are usually what the movie critics think are great. I'm a computer person, and I don't twitter or use my phone for anything but a phone. After 8 hours a day of working on computer stuff, I like doing something else, like painting.
Maybe we all have to figure out ourselves what's cool. I don't think I've ever been cool, but that's OK.
Posted by: Kristina L | July 03, 2010 at 02:39 PM