Writer’s Shop Talk: ‘Dear Diary…’

Writing and Storytelling: Write a journal entry for your heroine on the day (or night) she first meets the hero.

Dear Libby,

I apologise for writing this entry so late, but you know how rare free time is during our busy winter concert season. So, whenever I get a chance to enjoy myself, I take it right away. And tonight was no exception.

First, though, I must admit I feel slightly guilty about what I did tonight. Not the “fun” or “exciting” bits, you understand, but some of the things I did before – like doing a bit of Internet research on a certain person and trying to remember what you told me about that guy who loved you from afar in high school – and during the night at the Moonglow Club. You’d probably be cross with me for doing the “mystery woman” bit to meet Professor Garraty without letting on that I know more about him than he thinks. But….I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, even if my conscience now tells me otherwise.

(Libby, I know you would have preferred I’d been less…oh, I’ll say it…deceitful. But all things considered, I believed then…and still believe now, that my little bit of playing the role of a “Mysterious American Dame” was the right way to meet  the man you once called your “shy knight in shining armor” back in the early 1980s.)

I must clarify that when I visited the Moonglow tonight, I wasn’t entirely certain that Professor Garraty would be present at that particular club in Williamsburg. It’s a new establishment that opened only two weeks ago and still exudes a “new club” atmosphere—the floors and restrooms remain relatively untouched by heavy use compared to older, more seasoned venues in New York City. The club’s theme caters to an older demographic, appealing primarily to those over 40 with its nostalgic homage to the Big Band and World War II era. Our parents might enjoy this place if they were still inclined to go out for drinks and dancing, which they both claim they no longer do, simply because of the atmosphere and music. Given that Jim (whom I’m already referring to by his first name despite just meeting him, as I find myself liking him) teaches World War II history at a “prestigious university” in the city, I speculated that he might be interested in checking out the Moonglow.

It’s funny, but even with its retro vibe, the Moonglow isn’t just pulling in the over-40 crowd. Lots of college students, especially those studying music and dance, mix with history buffs and young professionals. It’s a lively blend that adds fresh energy to the vintage setting, making it a hot spot not just for the older folks but for anyone who digs nostalgia and has a thing for swing music.

So, Libby, I wore my sky blue “dancing dress”—the one you might call the “Have a Go at Me” dress—and a matching jacket. I applied a bit of Florida Passion perfume, not realizing it was your favorite back in the day. Then, I took the subway to Broadway and stopped at Book Culture to buy all of Jim’s three published books on military history for $70.00 (luckily I’m genuinely interested in the topic). I thought they could serve as a good conversation starter if my guess about seeing him there was correct at this first “chance” encounter.

(Sadly, no. Even though the Book Culture bag made an appearance in this little adventure, I didn’t end up showing Jim the books or getting them signed tonight. I was pretty worn out after browsing for books, catching a cab from Manhattan to Brooklyn, and wandering around the club until I spotted Professor Jim from his book jacket photo on “Uncertain Trumpets: Operation Market-Garden.”)

Oh, Libby. I wish you had been the one, not me, who had that surprisingly FUN night with Jim. (And no, not that kind of fun. It was just our first date, after all. I’m a modern woman, but I don’t go that far on a first date. At least, not anymore. I learned my lesson after…well, you know the story, and Libby, I was 19 and naive back then.) He’s as smart and thoughtful as you said he was in high school, and he’s got his own charm. But he’s also witty and confident—definitely not shy. He’s a bit reserved though and doesn’t like to talk much about himself or his past.

(Remember when I mentioned feeling guilty about not being completely honest with him about who I am? I mean…I put on an American accent—or as close as I could get—all evening, though I might’ve slipped into British speak after a Sidecar or two. And maybe wearing that Florida Passion perfume wasn’t my best move either. There were a couple of times Jim seemed to momentarily pull away when I was close. Especially when we danced to some Glenn Miller songs.)

I have to say, tonight was quite lovely. If I don’t wake up with a Sidecar-induced hangover tomorrow, I’ll give you more details. Right now, I’m pretty wiped out, my feet are aching from all the dancing, and my mind’s in a bit of a haze. Feeling all sorts of emotions. Absolutely knackered.

Love,

Maddie