The young, enthusiastic crew arrived at nine am yesterday, right on time. \u00a0Within minutes, our house was transformed into a film set, with cords strung along the floor in the living room, bright lights mounted on poles, a camera set up and aimed at a particular spot right next to the fireplace–that would be my spot, precisely marked off with a black square of electrical tape.<\/p>\n
It was less than two months ago that my book group encouraged me to make a video. \u00a0At first I resisted the idea. \u00a0Too much like blatant self-promotion. \u00a0And besides, what exactly would we tape? \u00a0My friend Stephanie gave me a name and a number. \u00a0“Just call,” she said. \u00a0“Even if you don’t end up working with this guy, you will like him, and he’ll have some ideas.” \u00a0If you’ve read Malcolm Gladwell’s book The Tipping Point, you already know about “connectors,” those special people who just seem to know everyone, and who have an extraordinary knack for making friends, remembering acquaintances, and bringing everybody together. \u00a0 That’s Stephanie, a woman with an uncanny ability to expand your vision of what’s possible, and then to put you in touch with exactly the right person to start making things happen in your life. \u00a0I took the leap, made the call.<\/p>\n
Within a week, her friend Chris, a creative director for a smart young company called C3, and I had a deal and a plan: \u00a0I would write an essay to read in my living room to a group of friends, and he and his team would turn it into a five or six-minute video to distribute online. \u00a0If we both did our jobs well, we would end up with a short film that would not only get the word-of-mouth going about The Gift of an Ordinary Day, but, even more important, be a means of reaching out and making a connection with other women, and potential readers, in a new way.<\/p>\n
For me, making this video meant taking a giant step out of my comfort zone. \u00a0I wouldn’t have had the courage to take that step without the encouragement of my friends, and the project wouldn’t have happened at all if those very friends hadn’t also been willing to give up their Sunday to come to my house, sip tea, and be my captive, attentive audience for several takes. \u00a0This is what female friendship is all about. \u00a0I put the word out weeks ago–date and time. \u00a0And everybody showed up. \u00a0My entire book group from Massachusetts drove to New Hampshire, bearing food (and wine for later). \u00a0My mom came, with her enormous coffee maker and a few loaves of cranberry walnut bread. She brought an old friend, who’s known me since I was five or so. Debbie and Maude and eQuanimiti Joy arrived, and readers instantly recognized them from the pages of the book, glad to meet real characters in the flesh. \u00a0My sister-in-law and her mother came, as did neighbors from up and down the road, a friend from High Mowing, one of Jack’s friend’s moms. \u00a0In all, we squeezed 23 women into the living room, and I read aloud to them for forty minutes or so, while the cameras rolled.<\/p>\n
Afterwards, the videographer wandered around the house and yard, filming the grass, the sky, the trees, opening cupboards and closets in the kids’ rooms, taking what is known in the film business as “B roll” shots–mood bits that may or may not find their way into the final product. \u00a0He played his camera across old photos of me and the boys when they were little, old Mother’s Day cards, Henry’s baseball bobble-head collection. \u00a0“We have enough to be dangerous,” Chris said, as they packed up their gear. \u00a0Who knows what these hip young men, who dress in black and make a living creating images for brands like Puma and Timberland, will fashion with this raw material–a group of women of a certain age, gathered round on a Sunday morning, to listen to one of their own muse about the swift passage of time and our shifting roles as the children grow up and leave home. \u00a0I don’t know, but I do feel certain that we’re in good hands.<\/p>\n
Till \u00a0two weeks ago, when he and his business partner Michelle came to hear me read at the Concord Bookshop, Chris had never been to a book reading. \u00a0“I didn’t even know they existed,” he confessed. \u00a0Well, till yesterday, I’d never been on film before, either. \u00a0It is new territory for them and for me, but we are all excited about the possibilities. \u00a0And we all had a lot of fun getting to know each other, welcoming one another into our respective, very different worlds.<\/p>\n
Once the crew and guests had departed, my book group settled in for the rest of the afternoon. \u00a0We lit a fire in the fireplace, opened the wine, heated up soup, tossed a salad. \u00a0As we ate our early dinner, we got caught up on one another’s lives and kids, and planned out the rest of our own book-reading year. \u00a0Books are what brought our group together, ten years ago now, and a love of books is what we have in common. \u00a0But our lives have become inextricably, and wonderfully, intertwined as well. The stories we tell at “check-in,” about how we’re doing, what we’re struggling with, what we’re celebrating, are as important as any story on the page. \u00a0And so, month after month and year after year, we dance between literature and life, sharing both, grateful for one another’s good company, insight, and moral support.<\/p>\n
In two weeks, my friend Stephanie is moving out of the house where she and her husband raised their two children, into an apartment better suited for her new stage of life as a single empty nester. \u00a0It’s time, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. \u00a0She has a to-do list that’s a mile long, not to mention the emotional upheaval of bringing one huge life chapter to an end and embarking on a new one. \u00a0She admitted to us that she had decided earlier in the week that there was absolutely no way she could come spend the day in New Hampshire yesterday, given the stresses in her life right now. \u00a0But then, when she woke up yesterday morning, something hit her: \u00a0“Wait a minute,” she told herself, “this is the good stuff.” \u00a0And so, she came. \u00a0And of course, she was right. \u00a0A few tears were shed in our group yesterday, many more laughs were laughed, and as everyone put on their coats last night, to head back to Massachusetts, we all reminded Stephanie that all she needs to do is say the word, and any one of us will be there — to help her get the last boxes packed, \u00a0to drive her stuff from the old place to the new, to do whatever needs doing.<\/p>\n
What Stephanie said is exactly right: \u00a0 We owe it to ourselves to show up for the good stuff. \u00a0And we also owe it to our friends to reach out to them when we need help getting through the hard stuff. \u00a0It’s all part of life, and it’s all best shared with the people who care about you. \u00a0Yesterday really was the good stuff. \u00a0I can’t wait to see what that looks like on film!<\/p>\n
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