About That Tiara...

Posted by Christine



Come to think of it, I did have a tiara once. It was bejeweled, as are all tiaras. And, as I recall, sprinkled with stars.

It was presented to me by the Sacramento Chapter of Romance Writers of America a few years ago when I went there to speak. (It was an all day workshop on Setting. Some people even stayed awake. Mwahaha.)

That tiara had a train. A tulle train. Isn’t that what they call that netting-looking stuff that they make bridal veils out of? I mean, out of which they make bridal veils?

Anyway, the train was pink and purple, also sprinkled with little stars. I went to see my mom right after I gave the workshop and thus had the tiara with me. My mom just loved it. She was eyeing it for her purple room.

Yes. That’s what I said. Her purple room.

The purple room is my mom’s meditation room. It’s in the basement of her house in the mountains and it is seriously purple. My mom loves purple. In this room she keeps all kinds of treasures, little figurines and bits of crystal and stuff. There are also tomes on personal growth, religion and just generally the search for enlightenment. In this room, she writes poems and in her journal and she prays. And meditates. I believe, to my mom, prayer and meditation are the same thing. But don’t quote me on that. Ask my mom.

The purple room is simply uplifting. My mom is very into spiritual growth. So what happened to me? Well, this is probably not the place to go into that…

Back to the purple room. And the tiara I had once.

So during that visit to the Sacramento Chapter and the mountains of my childhood, I slept in the purple room. I think I found enlightenment. In my dreams. Unfortunately, then I woke up…

And when I woke up, I saw the tiara dripping stars and tulle, hanging across the room where I’d draped it attractively the night before. And I remembered my sweet mom, oohing and ahhing over the thing and, well, I started thinking it would only get crushed in my suitcase.

So I gave it to her.

And I’m doing fine without it. After all, I still have the banner my friend Susan Crosby made for me back when I left California for the wide open spaces of where I live now (hint: where the wind comes whistlin’ down the plains…)

That banner proudly proclaims me a Member Emeritus (that would be of the Sacramento Valley Rose RWA chapter). As well as Queen of the World. In pink. With hearts…

Can’t go far wrong with a banner—or a friend—like that.

So I’m giving up all future requests for a tiara. I’ll just look at my banner when I want to feel regal. It should do fine.

And Kate, here’s a little beefcake to, er, beef up our blog: