I was reading The Penny Drop by Jen and something she said about why she stopped writing memoirs resonated with me.
The downside of writing only memoir was that the process forced me to live exclusively in my own head as a way to generate content. I couldn’t just go and do, to simply enjoy and be present, because I’d be mentally categorizing the whole experience, analyzing how I’d recap it for maximum hilarity. Instead of extricating myself from situations that were frustrating, annoying, or vaguely dangerous, I’d lean into them, just to see what tales could come of it.
It was 2014, three years post What’s Your Number? movie, and I was struggling to finish my second fiction book. I missed the early days of ‘Save Karyn’ when no one cared about me or my writing. The stakes were higher now, and I was frozen with fear.
With movie money dwindling fast I was desperate to turn things around, so I decided to put together a book of essays, figuring it would be easier for me to write. I still needed a few more stories to round it out, and time was of the essence.
Enter Patty and Ted, my friends of 15 years. They had planned a weekend getaway to Laguna but their childcare fell through at the last minute, so they asked me to babysit their 3-1/2 year old daughter Sofia, along with our friend Mark. I quickly said yes because this was exactly what I needed for my essay book. I was going to enter Sofia into a child beauty pageant — just so I could write about it!
I didn’t tell Patty and Ted my plan, but I did tell Mark. And rather than tell me what a terrible idea this was, he cheerfully egged me on. (For every degenerate there is an enabler, and Mark is no exception.)
The next day I made a plan. Sofia was going to be our Little Miss Sunshine except we were going to dress her up like Madonna and make her sing “Material Girl.” I filled my Amazon cart with everything we needed and bookmarked a YouTube dance routine that would have strangers declaring her a star.
As for my essay, it fit perfectly between how I accidentally told my uncle I had a threesome and that time I shared an intimate moment with my foot doctor while listening to Peabo Bryson — and I knew it would be a hit. The readers would go crazy! I was on my way to success…until it came time to find a pageant.
One by one, my list of potential competitions shrank. Sofia was too young, too old, we missed a deadline, she didn’t have enough prior wins to qualify. (She was 3 — how many prior wins could she have had?!) Our plan was foiled. I emptied my cart in shame.
Instead of taking the pageant world by storm that weekend, we watched movies and rented a paddle boat on Echo Park Lake. A fucking paddle boat. I thought it would cheer me up, but paddle boats aren’t fun — they’re a fucking workout. No one tells you that.
When Patty and Ted returned from their trip, Sofia was cranky from eating ice cream for dinner but otherwise unscathed. They thanked us for babysitting and gave us souvenirs.
I went home that night a little bit bummed. I had squandered a golden opportunity. What a waste. Then it hit me. What kind of asshole was I? My friends trusted me to watch their child, and I tried to enter her into a child beauty pageant! If that was your kid, how pissed would you be?! I shiver at the repercussions this could have had on poor little Sofia’s mental health and self-esteem. Lord have mercy.
So when Jen said she found herself leaning into dangerous situations to see what tales could come of it — I get it. Like really, really get it.
There’s a fine line between writing about your life and doing crazy things in your life to have something to write about. I’d like to think at this age I know the difference, but I can’t be sure.
Don’t ever let me watch your kids.
There is so much to unpack here. But look how cute Sofia is--she'd have won.
If I came home to that I would laugh my ass off and ask to try on the crown - just saying! You can watch my kids anytime! Seriously.. ANY time! Take them.