I’ve been thinking about an underrated moment in When Harry Met Sally.
Apparently, it didn’t make the same impression on other people because I can’t find it listed on WikiQuotes, but in the scene I’m thinking of, Sally (Meg Ryan) is talking about why she broke up with her longtime boyfriend. He would tell her that they didn’t need to get married because they loved each other and being married wouldn’t make a difference, and they should wait years, possibly forever, to have kids because it was wonderful to have the option to fly to Paris or have sex on the kitchen floor whenever they wanted to.
The problem, of course, was that they never actually did those things.
I’ve been thinking about this scene because so many of us are living it in some way or another, although the lies we accept may not always be so ugly and obvious as what the bad ex-boyfriend says in a movie to try to keep a woman from pursuing the life she wants. They are often far more insidious, and they can come from institutions we respect, people we love, and even from ourselves.
One of the comforting lies I used to tell myself was “I’ll do a lot of writing this weekend.” I didn’t have to write today because I would get so much done on Saturday. And then the weekend would come, and I would tell myself the other half of this lie, which is of course “I’ll get into a better routine this week and make time to write after work every day.” Then I would come home from work completely spent and not be able to write, and the loop would start over. Everyone’s ideal schedule for writing (or whatever creative work is your passion) will be different, but I think we can all agree that not writing at all is a very bad cycle for a writer to be stuck in.
I believed that lie for a long time, and it took a lightning-bolt, big-change kind of moment to help me see through it (more on that big-change moment in a future newsletter).
Have you had one of those moments, or is there a comforting lie in your life that is keeping you from something you truly want?
For people who would like to live in a different dystopian world for a little while:
During what seems like a lifetime ago now (February of this year), I read fiction that loosely followed my chosen theme of dystopian societies and cults. The Grace Year, a dark young adult dystopian thriller, was one of the best reads of that month. Tierney is 16, and per village tradition, she is sent to live in the woods and survive with the other “grace year girls” for one year in a trial by fire they are told will purge them of magic. Not every grace year girl comes back alive. The Grace Year is the kind of transcendent YA that is told in the full immediate emotion of a 16-year-old girl’s experience yet manages to ask big questions and convey universal themes that adults can appreciate as well. What are the structures around us that need to be broken down? Why are we so hard on young women and when will it end? The Grace Year may have the trappings of a dystopian thriller, but it’s a warning of what could be at any time and any place.
For people who love movies that wink at tropes and defy classic film structures in a good way:
Knives Out has given me yet another Oscar beef to rant about for years because it was not nominated for Best Picture despite being a much stronger film than some of the nominees (ahem, The Irishman and Ford v. Ferrari). It did receive a nomination for Best Original Screenplay, and when you watch this wonderfully twisty take on the classic murder mystery, you’ll see why. The less explained about the plot the better, but if you’re someone who will love a mystery-thriller with a great ensemble cast and some timely updates on mystery tropes and stock characters, this is a must-watch.