Sliding Doors
When I was in college I had a few movies on VHS that I would watch on repeat on what people now call “bed rotting” days. There is a name for everything now. (That’s another topic on my laundry list of things to discuss). One of those tapes was ‘Sliding Doors.’ The film moves between two storylines – and what happens in each world based on the main character either catching a train or not. It had a large enough reception and/or space in popular culture that I likely didn’t need to give that one-sentence explanation for anyone reading to know what ‘sliding doors’ refers to.
A few weeks ago, I had my own sliding doors moment – although it wasn’t me – it felt like I was watching an alternate me in a very real universe.
It was fucking surreal. I’m sure it won’t sound like much, but I assure you it rocked me.
It all started on a walk on a Monday evening…
I love going for walks, but sometimes I need to negotiate with myself to get out the door. That evening I decided at the halfway point I’d pop into this little candy store I like in Brentwood Country Mart and get some licorice for the two miles home. While there, I saw a flier for a book reading the next night at one of my favorite bookstores; it was a conversation with one author I didn’t know for her most recent release, hosted by an author I do know and like. As much as I like to read, I haven’t been to a book reading in probably ten plus years, but I was going to be free the next night so I figured why not.
Tuesday evening I get to the bookstore just a few minutes before the talk was to start in the courtyard, and went in to buy a copy of the book. In the corner I could see and overhear the author (re)introducing the friend who would be interviewing her to her mother-in-law. Nothing to report there, but I’m nothing if not observant.
As I am walking outside to get a seat, I see the mother-in-law say hello to a small group of people about my age, one of which was a man that looks incredibly familiar who says “hi Mom.”
He looked familiar because I went on a date with him while I was in Los Angeles for a bit in early 2021, but still technically living in New York. Very nice guy, but early 2021 dating was strange enough, me doing so in California before I had decided to move back didn’t make it any easier. Interesting sighting, but not worth noting.
Since I haven’t read this author’s work, I knew nothing about her or her previous novels, but from the look of the covers I assumed she writes rom-coms. A genre that I have always enjoyed (sometimes guiltily, sometimes honestly) and one I’m interested in exploring. Turns out this latest book is about dating and the story of all the people along the way, written by someone who shared that her path was much longer and windier than she would have liked. (Hear that one.) In the talk she shared that she had wanted to write about story this for a while, but was never quite ready. “When I sat down to write this book, I told my editor ‘I want to write about the search for love, and I think if I write it honest, he’ll be there at the end of it.’ … Incidentally, he was there at the end of it….”1
Last year when the voice in my head to start writing was getting louder and louder, what I kept hearing was “everything you want is on the other side of writing.” There are lots of things I want to see and do and explore and have, but it’s no secret that romantic love is high on that list.
Hearing her say that out loud, seeing that I knew who she was talking about, with an eerily similar (note not same) internal voice, things began to feel a bit bizarre.
As she discussed some of her previous books – one about friendships and the depth and importance of female friends, another about grieving and complicated mother-daughter relationships – it felt like an out of body experience. Of course lots of books are written on those subjects and most women I know can relate to those topics, but this was feeling like looking in a mirror. Or rather, looking through the sliding door – this very real, very successful author whose numerous works are also being adapted for screens reminding me that there is an alternate experience just waiting for me.
I probably don’t need to add that she went to USC and lived in New York and moved back to Los Angeles about 4-5 years ago and, and …
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I was struggling with writing before this outlandish experience. It happened a few days after I last published about writer’s block, so I was clearly already in it, but it definitely has not helped. You would think it would be an inspiration – get out there, get going, get doing! Everything you see can be yours – a real life magical expander showing me what is possible!
But instead, my struggle has deepened to paralysis. I have jotted down a few notes about this experience that I think could be interesting in fiction, but a few notes don’t go very far.
I have drafted full essays in my head on walks, in the shower, on drives, in conversation – but as soon as I move to get them out, not just writing, even dictating, I FREEZE. Funny things, poignant things, reader requests – I’m open and trying Any Topic but struggling.
I have written about fear. Fear of writing. Fear of being seen. Fear of trying.
But I don’t think that is the fear any more. I think maybe the fear is what if I try and nothing changes, or really, what if it does? What if do get what I want? The struggle, the loneliness has been so integral to my narrative, that my mind and body are fighting to keep this me in this known place, thinking that known is safer than the unknown. It’s not. There is so much good in the unknown – it’s why I love travel – and I want my everyday life to feel a bit more like that, with lots more unknowns to discover.
I’ve seen things are pretty good through the Sliding Doors.
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Serle, Rebecca. Expiration Dates. Simon & Schuster, 2024.