My
sophomore novel releasing this September—Dry as Rain—was
originally a third person, dual point of view (POV) book written half
from the wife’s POV, half from the husband’s. I didn’t think I was
ready to write an entire book from a male POV. I am, after all, a
woman. I would have to do much research to get it right and I was up
for all that . . . until . . . my publisher wanted it to be first
person, all from the husband’s viewpoint. They said I wrote the man’s
point of view better than the woman’s. What does this say about my
estrogen to testosterone levels? I’m not sure and don’t guess I really
want to know.
Not wanting to throw a year’s
worth of work away, I figured I’d better at least give it a try.
Did I get it right? I don’t
know. I’ll have to find out from the male reviewers. My husband read
every word. I’d get an occasional raised eyebrow with, “He’d only say
that if he were gay.” So, of course, I changed that problem area, but
all in all he gave me a thumbs-up.
He was instrumental in some of
the scenes where he would add a detail here or there that I never would
have thought of, paperclips stuck to the back magnet of a dealership
plate or the smell of new tires on a showroom floor.
Particularly tricky were the
scenes between my main character, Eric, and his best friend, Larry. I
know how women relate, but I’ve ever been able to observe two male
friends with no one else around. So having a guy who’s willing to say
yay or nay on a scene was a lifesaver.
Following are the tidbits of
masculinity I traded my girly thoughts with. Are they true of most men?
Gina shrugs. They were true of my main male character, though.
1. Men have an ego. They compare
themselves with other men, differently than women compare themselves to
other women. We size up her beauty, figure, talent, and intelligence.
My male character sized up his competition literally by size first,
followed by job, income, and attractiveness.
2. Men’s eyes are drawn to flesh
like women’s are to beauty. I’m apt to look at a beautiful vase, a
pretty flower, a sunset. He might also admire those things, but there’s
a stronger magnet in those high-heeled legs strutting by his table. My
main character describes it this way: “My eyes were drawn to flesh like
metal to magnet, if my Aunt Edna showed some skin, I’d have to look
whether I wanted to gouge my eyes out after or not.”
3. The best defense is a good
offense. Okay, maybe I’m paranoid, but I’ve noticed that at least the
men who’ve been in my life abide by this philosophy. Catch them doing
something wrong, and in less than a minute flat they will turn it
around into something I’ve done. No matter what he does, I end up being
the one to apologize. I gave my character this defense mechanism.
4.
Not all men are womanizers and cheaters. Maybe not even most, but there
are plenty who are. My main character commits adultery, but his best
friend would never have done it. Why does my main character cheat? His
wife stops touching him, looking up
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to
him, respecting him, and, he
thinks, loving him. He succumbs when a woman he works with looks at him
like he was the man he used to be. For him it came down to loneliness
and needing admiration that he’d lost from his wife. Yes, there’s
remorse and redemption, of course.
5. Live and let die. Women will
feel weird around their best friends if they’ve fought. They might not
talk for months, and if they do, most likely one of them is profusely
apologetic. Men? At least my male character? He and his best friend
duke it out literally, and the next day they’re having lunch. Talking
about it? Umm . . . that’s what the roughhousing was for. ’Nough said.
6. Sports. Yeah, they like them.
My main character watches his favorite player make a killer layup and
feels as happy as if he’d been the one to make it. Women don’t tend to
do that.
7. Feeling the pressure to
succeed for the entire family and sometimes missing the boat. My main
character, Eric, gives up a life his family loves near the ocean to
give them the so-called American dream. A McMansion, luxury car,
private school. It takes losing his wife to realize relationships are
more important than how much is in the bank.
8. Love makes the world go
’round. I think men want true love as much as women do. My main
character certainly does. He misses it when he loses what he and his
wife, Kyra, had. He describes the loneliness as quite literally killing
him a little more each day.
Okay, that’s certainly not an
exhaustive list, but it’s a lot of what ran through my mind as I wrote
Eric Yoshida in Dry as Rain. I’d love to know how
flawed or correct my thinking was. I’m writing my fourth book from
another male’s viewpoint, so I welcome suggestions and additions to
this list.
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