Every day something new!

Lunch meeting with a fellow writer. His opening line: So I've been unemployed about two years now...

Then I come home to find a message: Opposites attract! I look forward to our discussion. He's a conservative who lives 25 miles away from me. I guess it's good to know upfront that someone's going to ignore your boundaries right away!

Someone Should Write a User’s Manual

When I first started this game, I stumbled across a profile of a man who used his time to explain to women what was wrong with their profiles and dating habits. I actually found his points enlightening until I got to the line about “don’t post pictures in bathing suits and then say you’re not into casual sex.”

Needless to say, I didn’t “like” him.

But I’m reminded of this guy on a regular basis, because I’m often tempted to write out such a list myself. The number of men who are on Match, yet lack basic communication and relationship skills, is mind-boggling.

Of course, if they had these skills, they wouldn’t be on Match, would they?

So here’s what happened to me this weekend. I had gone on several dates with a guy who contacted me after reading my Match profile (the one that says, among other things, “I vote and date blue… it’s important to me!”). They went well; there was good conversation; he took me out to a few nice meals and picked up the check. And barely touched me.

I decided it was time to reciprocate and give things a chance to blossom, so I invited him over to a home-cooked meal, warning him that I wasn’t really that great of a cook.

There aren’t a lot of cute little jokes in this story. Suffice it to say, he showed up empty-handed and after dinner told me he was a Republican, due to his overriding believe in lower taxes.

I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again. (Although I still showed him my favorite horror movie.)

I’m not going to be writing a list on Match, but if I were, it would include “Don’t go to a woman’s house for the first time without bringing wine or flowers or something.” And don’t contact someone when you know you’re not what she’s looking for.

Tomorrow, I’m going to lunch with a man who may be a complete whack-job. Stay tuned for more adventures.

Learning the Rules

“Seven o’clock?” my friend Dee said. “That is late for a happy hour. That’s his way of getting out of having to buy you dinner. Next time, ask if you should eat first.”

Dee’s been divorced for years, and moved to St. Pete about three years ago. She’s been one of my friends tutoring me in the fine art of internet dating.

Too bad for Steve that I hadn’t talked to her before meeting him. I’d come straight from a late work meeting, and I was starving. We talked for two hours, and he ended up paying for my non-happy-hour-priced drink and appetizer. When I’d asked if he were hungry, he’d told me that he’d already eaten. He seemed magnanimous about picking up the check – for a date that he’d initiated – but made it clear the next one would be on me.

There’s not going to be a next one. Even though he walked me back to the parking garage, holding my hand, gave me a peck on the lips and exchanged phone numbers with me, I haven’t heard from him. Maybe there’s a rule that the woman always initiates contact after the first meeting, but if there is one, I haven’t heard it. In any case, I’m relieved. I really don’t want to go out with him again, but I also don’t want to blow him off to his face. Much easier to pretend there will be another meeting while not actually setting one up. He’s cute, but he lives all the way in Clearwater. I spend too much time in my car as it is; driving to people’s houses all over Pinellas County as part of my in-house sales job. A guy has to be amazing for me to look for love outside to St. Pete.

I’ve been dating for less than a year; have had two relationships since the divorce. At first, I was eager to meet new men and enjoyed surfing the sites. I went out with my first “boyfriend” three times before I felt a spark of attraction, so I thought I owed it to myself to give decent guys more than one chance.

Then I met a guy to whom I felt an immediate attraction, and then spent months trying to make a relationship work when we had nothing else in common.

Now, even though I’m looking for my next relationship, I’m looking for reasons not to date. They include:

Lives too far away

Votes Republican

Too much younger than me (granted, I don’t run into this too often)

Too much older than me

Look like they’re older than me

Didn’t graduate college

Never married

Married too often

Didn’t have kids

Has too many kids

Not physically active

Too physically active

Doesn’t like TV

Watches too much TV

Talks too much

Doesn’t talk enough.

So you can see, this might be a problem.

Maybe the problem is me.

Unveiling "Dating in Paradise!"

I began this blog in the summer of 2012, right after my husband and I moved to Florida. At the time, I called it “my year on vacation;” we had rented the house for a year, and I honestly didn’t believe we’d be staying much longer than that. I left boxes unpacked. I viewed my new friendships as temporary. I thought a return to Maryland – the D.C. suburbs, with serious jobs and serious people – would happen in 2013.

Instead, we bought a house on St. Pete Beach; our son moved in with us for a year while he attended the local community college, and we became Floridians. I got my real estate license and doubled down on my writing. I was no longer on vacation; I renamed my blog “Writer in Paradise” and focused my posts mainly on writerly concerns. (It wasn’t until much later that I learned about the local writers’ conference, “Writers in Paradise.” I didn’t mean to steal its name!)

Last year, I had another huge upheaval in my life. My husband of nearly 28 years decided he didn’t want to be married anymore, and six weeks later we were divorced. Tom and I had met when I was 21, right out of college. Although I had dated a bit while I was in school, those days were long behind me. While divorce is sad and change is hard, it’s also catapulted me into a completely different life. I’m still writing, still pursuing my dream of being traditionally published. I’ve taken an additional sales job in addition to real estate to make sure I’m getting out of the house on a regular basis.

And I’m dating. Not meeting men through mutual friends, or work, or hobbies. I’m going on dates with men I’m meeting through dating apps. I tried OKCupid for a while; Bumble never really worked for me. I’m not looking for casual hook-ups, so I never logged into Tinder. Hinge got me a lot of men my son’s age, which was too creepy for words. So for now, I’ve settled on Match and Plenty of Fish. I’m paying for my Match account; I’m not upgrading with POF.

It’s an adventure. Too much of an adventure to keep to myself. So I’m refocusing my blog to share those stories. While I’m still a writer in paradise, my blog will be centered around dating in paradise. Ride shotgun on my adventure as I peruse the profiles of men holding giant fish and sitting astride motorcycles. Roll your eyes as I’m dumped by a guy who’d rather be with a Scientologist. Sympathize with me as I get pleading emails from 70-year-old men who live 70 miles away.

Florida Man is on Match, and his tattoos have their own photos.

Dating after 50 in Florida is not for the faint of heart. Or for those who don’t have a sense of humor. Or a Lyft account.

Join me!

I Get Knocked Down…

A few weeks ago, in my writers group, I shared some of the “pass” emails that my agent had gotten from editors who’d read my thriller, which I like to describe as “The Stepford Wives in the Villages.” (an upscale Florida retirement community known for conservative Republicanism and high levels of STDs)

To sum, these emails gushed over the concept and the plot, but all the editors had failed to connect with the voice. I explained that probably meant that while they liked the story, they just didn’t like how I told it. They didn’t like me as a writer.

How do you get past that? I was asked. How do you keep trying, keep writing, after rejections like that?

The answer is, I don’t know. For some reason, I just do.

This has been the worst year of my life so far. And even as I write that, I recognize how lucky I am. Other people’s “worst year” entails losing children, losing their health, losing their homes. I have all of these. (And I remain aware that I could still lose any or all of them.) Still, compared to where I was a year ago, there’s a lot of pain. Last year at this time, I had two books on submission with several imprints of the big five publishers, and I had high hopes for both of them. My husband had just started a new job, which resulted in a huge payout from the company he left. We were planning big vacations; I was researching MFA programs; life was fabulous.

And then I came home one afternoon and he had moved out. A few weeks later, rejections started rolling in from those publishers. I abandoned my MFA plans, put my house on the market, bought a small home for myself, put my next novel aside and worked on finding a “real job.” (His words.)

As writers, we are often told we need to develop a thick skin in order to handle criticism and rejections. What I learned from developing that thick skin is that it’s handy in situations that have nothing to do with publishing. Thick skin is necessary when your husband of 28 years tells you he wants to divorce you as quickly as possible because “women don’t date separated men.” Thick skin is also handy when that new job has people yelling at you because you committed the sin of showing up for an appointment they made. When the first guy you date after your divorce dumps you to return to his Scientologist ex-girlfriend, it’s that writing-developed thick skin that lets you turn the experience into a funny anecdote rather than an excuse to stop dating.

I guess this thick skin is why I keep writing. Or maybe it’s a thick head. I finished my first novel in 1992. I spent more years than I like to remember writing and trying unsuccessfully to sell screenplays. I won a few minor awards; even signed with an agent who apparently spent more time reading the Daily Racing Form than scripts. In 2012, with many of my online screenwriting friends producing and making their own movies, I decided it would be easier to self-publish a novel than to make a movie from one of my scripts. And perhaps that thinking doomed my chances of traditional publishing, since I’ve self-published two novels since then.

Still, my goal remains to be traditionally published, and it seems more out of reach than ever at this point. Is it the thick head that’s refusing to let me hear a message from the universe that I’m not a good- enough writer for the Big 5? When these thoughts threaten to overwhelm me, I’m reminded of a story that one of my workshop leaders likes to tell. He had taught a famous writer as an undergrad, and he’s often asked whether that writer was the most talented person he’d taught. His answer is no; the most talented person had bad luck and then just gave up.

We all know what luck is, but what constitutes talent? I often hear the saying that success is hard work plus luck, but where does talent fit into that equation? Most of us think of talent as being given by God or nature. My son played a lot of baseball growing up; in that sport there’s a saying: “Hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard.” My son worked very hard but he wasn’t talented enough, and there were enough talented players that did work hard that he was unable to progress. (And while the talented ones who didn’t work hard got farther in the short run, in the long run they are worse off than he is now.)

When my son stopped succeeded and started struggling in baseball, it was so painful that I had to “unfollow” other baseball parents whose sons were still progressing in the sport. Likewise, now when I go on Facebook and I see friends celebrating long-term marriages or publishing contracts, I can’t help asking why them and not me. What’s wrong with me, my voice, my stories that I’m not worth publishing or holding onto? Is this something I can fix? Or maybe there’s nothing wrong at all; I just haven’t found the right publisher or person.

Or maybe I just use too many semi-colons.

I may not ever get that publishing contract. I might not ever be in a long-term relationship again. But I can rewrite my personal definition of success.

Right now it’s: “I never gave up.”

How Match.Com and Realtor.Com are essentially the same thing

I’ve been a realtor for almost five years now, but it wasn’t until I began internet dating and put my own house on the market at the same time that I realized how very similar shopping for a new house online was to finding a new mate via Match.com or OKCupid. The internet should make these things easier; instead, it leads to exponentially more choices, more confusion, and more heartbreak…

Step One: The Pictures. You’re scrolling on Zillow or Match and you stop short when you see them. A white picket fence around the lawn. A smile that goes all the way to the ears. Your heart beats faster. This could be the one!

Step Two: The Contact. Excited texts and phone calls are exchanged. Everyone seems eager to meet! The first meeting is scheduled right away. You stress about what to wear, how early to arrive. Even though it’s early, you can’t help but plan ahead…. Commitments, time line, change of address… is it too soon to tell all your friends?

Step Three: The meeting. To be honest, it’s not exactly what you hoped for. You knew the pictures online were staged, but you weren’t expecting this. Still, nothing and no one’s perfect and you can’t be that picky. And everyone’s saying the right things… the master bedroom is amazing. We both love Star Wars! We’ll be in touch real soon!

Step Four. No one gets in touch. Should you text something casual… “just checking in?” Should you be more direct… “Will you be submitting an offer? Do you want to go to the new Spiderman movie?” No. You won’t. Because if they were really interested, you’d be hearing from them. Sigh… Thank you, next…

Step Five. Someone liked the pictures! They’re texting to set up a meeting! It’s so exciting!

Step Six. Repeat steps one through four as necessary.

Step Seven. After much trial and error, now you know the difference between what you can change/what will change (the tile in the kitchen; kids who live at home) and what you cannot change/what will not change (too close to a busy highway; he’s a Scientologist). You’ve made your choice. It’s not perfect, but what is? Congratulations as you move into a lovely future!

Check out my listing on Zillow!

Dispatches from Heartbreak Hotel

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I’m here for you.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

We’ve all said those words at one time or another to a friend or family member who was in pain. I’ve said them myself, many times. But it wasn’t until my husband of nearly 30 years walked out on me, telling me he wanted a divorce as soon as possible because “women don’t date separated men” and to sell the house right away, that I realized firsthand how inadequate those words actually are.

In many ways, I’m very lucky. My son is healthy; I’m healthy, there’s money in the bank and eventually I’ll be okay. But this is the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. It left me crying in a ball on the floor. The day it happened, I was able to call one friend who dropped everything to come over. After I sent a hysterical text later that night, another friend arranged an evening out with a few others. A third friend, whom texted wanting a dinner date with my husband and me, dragged me out of the house a few days later and watched when I could only eat a few spoonfuls of soup. Another friend, who was supposed to watch our dog on the vacation my husband canceled behind my back, spent that weekend with me instead. (I am extremely lucky that I have so many friends.)

I announced the news on Facebook a few days after he left, after it took a few days to track down my mother to tell her directly. I got a lot of replies like the ones above.

I ignored all of them. I concentrated on the folks who called, who sent gifts, who texted at the start of the day and then at the end. And now that I’m coming through it, this is what I’ve learned:

 People in enormous pain are too broken to reach out to you to ask for help, or tell you what you can do. It’s the people who call us, who stop by and make plans and don’t take no for an answer that fill that need. If you don’t contact us, we won’t contact you.

 On the other hand, too much contact is overwhelming. Don’t feel bad if you’re not one of those who can stop by and sit with a hysterical person. Most people have enough friends and family that having to constantly answer texts, phone calls, etc. with the same story just makes the pain all that worse. Of course, if you know that your friend only has a small circle to rely on, be one of the people who comes over.

 Do not call to offer support and then make the conversation all about your problems. Listen, offer words of comfort, bring dinner, let her cry. But complaining about your own marriage or job situation to someone in enormous pain is worse than not calling at all. Don’t do it.

 Don’t expect your friend to have the energy for normal activities that you might have enjoyed engaging in together. Pain is physically exhausting. If all she wants to do is sit on the couch, sit with her.

 Don’t ask her for any favors. Some days getting up in the morning takes everything she has.

 Don’t expect her to hold her tongue if you act like a jerk. Her nerves are frayed raw and she’s not able to maintain a polite fiction if you minimize her situation.

 Make sure your friend has plans on weekend nights. Those evenings are the hardest of the week to be home alone.

My life is like living inside a tornado. Less than a month ago, I thought I’d be with this man for the rest of my life. Now I’m closing on a new house in two weeks, moving the first day of September, and will probably be divorced by my 51st birthday. It’s incredibly painful, so exhausting, but it’s also like ripping off a Band-Aid. I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Again, I know I’m so much luckier than so many others who’ve gone through this, or worse. I have friends who came out of the woodwork to stand by me who’ll be an important part of my life forever. I’ll do anything for them. And there are friends I barely heard from. No hard feelings there, but it’s good to know who you can count on and who you can’t.

There are a lot of people in a lot of pain in this world. If you can be the kind of friend they need, they’ll never forget it.