Meeting the Real Jack Diamond
When I first starting writing my murder mystery manuscript (nice alliteration, yes?), my husband came up with the name of Jack Diamond for the main character. I've talked about all of this before at some point on this blog (perhaps try visiting here: Dreams and Husbands). He borrowed the name from a good friend of his named, obviously, Jack Diamond.
I finished the manuscript a while ago, and have recently started seeking representation while I begin plotting out Jack Diamond's next adventures.
A few months ago I attended one of my husband's rare work events, and my hubby casually mentioned, "Hey look! There's Jack. Want to go say hi?"
And I swear to God a wave of giddiness washed over me and I turned into a teenaged crazed idol-hunter. Squee! I grinned like a fool and darted my eyes around, trying to spy him in the crowd. My heart racing, my grin growing ever more expansive by the minute, I pulled my hubby across the room with me, so we could go meet him. I felt just like the little kids at Christmas, dragging their parents (who didn't mind at all), to go meet Santa so they could ask for lovely Christmas presents. Squee!
To me, it felt as if I was meeting THE Jack Diamond. MY Jack Diamond. I couldn't wait to meet him in person. I wanted to see if his black hair curled just so, like it did in my head. I couldn't wait to see the dimple in his cheek. I wanted to make him smile, to hear him laugh. I longed to see that wonderful sparkle in his eye. I wanted him to be as excited to meet me as I was to meet him. I wanted to give him a hug to comfort him for all that he'd been through as a child. I wanted to ask about his brother and find out how Nick, his partner, was healing. And yes, I wanted to see his incredible physique -- because yes, I'm that shallow.
It wasn't until we were half way across the room that I realized two things. (1) I had no idea what the real Jack Diamond looked like, so this whole dragging my husband around the room thing was truly futile. Then, as that harsh reality sank in, I slowly began to realize that (b) I wasn't actually going to meet MY Jack Diamond. I had actually crossed over some invisible line from reality to crazy land, thinking that I was going to meet MY Jack Diamond in person. He is so real to me in my head. I can watch his dreams, and see the sweat pouring over his brow when he dreams of his father. I can feel his heartbeat quicken as he sees Claire walk into a room. I can feel his smile soften when his GranNini walks into a room. He is so very real to me, and yet he's all made up. Completely fictional. Absolutely and thoroughly not really there.
So I slowed down my pace, and reset my expectations, and allowed a wee bit of a whimper to escape my lips when I realized Jack's not really real. Sigh. By the time I met the real Jack Diamond, whose name I stole (with permission) for my very own Jack Diamond, I had my brain screwed back on straight. I was so very honored to meet him. So tickled to confirm that he was still okay with my using his name. He hasn't started reading my manuscript yet (I thought he might like to see the shenanigans his namesake is up to). But he let me take my picture with him.
In person, the named Jack Diamond looks nothing like my Jack Diamond. But his heart is still in the right place. And I will forever be grateful for his allowing me to use his name.
I was going to post a lovely picture of the two of us here:
BUT, I've managed to lose the darned photo in my digital hoarding photo files. Ugh. If I find it, I'll post it. And you can see what the REAL Jack Diamond looks like. AND, once you read my fabulous book, you can compare it to what MY Jack Diamond looks like. :) They're truly both wonderful, wonderful men. And as for my Jack? I can't wait for you to meet him.
I finished the manuscript a while ago, and have recently started seeking representation while I begin plotting out Jack Diamond's next adventures.
A few months ago I attended one of my husband's rare work events, and my hubby casually mentioned, "Hey look! There's Jack. Want to go say hi?"
And I swear to God a wave of giddiness washed over me and I turned into a teenaged crazed idol-hunter. Squee! I grinned like a fool and darted my eyes around, trying to spy him in the crowd. My heart racing, my grin growing ever more expansive by the minute, I pulled my hubby across the room with me, so we could go meet him. I felt just like the little kids at Christmas, dragging their parents (who didn't mind at all), to go meet Santa so they could ask for lovely Christmas presents. Squee!
To me, it felt as if I was meeting THE Jack Diamond. MY Jack Diamond. I couldn't wait to meet him in person. I wanted to see if his black hair curled just so, like it did in my head. I couldn't wait to see the dimple in his cheek. I wanted to make him smile, to hear him laugh. I longed to see that wonderful sparkle in his eye. I wanted him to be as excited to meet me as I was to meet him. I wanted to give him a hug to comfort him for all that he'd been through as a child. I wanted to ask about his brother and find out how Nick, his partner, was healing. And yes, I wanted to see his incredible physique -- because yes, I'm that shallow.
It wasn't until we were half way across the room that I realized two things. (1) I had no idea what the real Jack Diamond looked like, so this whole dragging my husband around the room thing was truly futile. Then, as that harsh reality sank in, I slowly began to realize that (b) I wasn't actually going to meet MY Jack Diamond. I had actually crossed over some invisible line from reality to crazy land, thinking that I was going to meet MY Jack Diamond in person. He is so real to me in my head. I can watch his dreams, and see the sweat pouring over his brow when he dreams of his father. I can feel his heartbeat quicken as he sees Claire walk into a room. I can feel his smile soften when his GranNini walks into a room. He is so very real to me, and yet he's all made up. Completely fictional. Absolutely and thoroughly not really there.
So I slowed down my pace, and reset my expectations, and allowed a wee bit of a whimper to escape my lips when I realized Jack's not really real. Sigh. By the time I met the real Jack Diamond, whose name I stole (with permission) for my very own Jack Diamond, I had my brain screwed back on straight. I was so very honored to meet him. So tickled to confirm that he was still okay with my using his name. He hasn't started reading my manuscript yet (I thought he might like to see the shenanigans his namesake is up to). But he let me take my picture with him.
In person, the named Jack Diamond looks nothing like my Jack Diamond. But his heart is still in the right place. And I will forever be grateful for his allowing me to use his name.
I was going to post a lovely picture of the two of us here:
BUT, I've managed to lose the darned photo in my digital hoarding photo files. Ugh. If I find it, I'll post it. And you can see what the REAL Jack Diamond looks like. AND, once you read my fabulous book, you can compare it to what MY Jack Diamond looks like. :) They're truly both wonderful, wonderful men. And as for my Jack? I can't wait for you to meet him.
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