I just watched Titanic and, as predicted, I cried like a baby. But, then, I realized what it was that made me cry.
It wasn't only that Cal lived and married and made millions and then shot himself, proving that he shoudl have given up his seat on the lifeboat for Jack so that he and Rose could be together forever instead of Jack dying a cold, soaking death and sinking to depths to rest with the ship and leave behind a forever-changed Rose.
Not only that.
I realized how attached I had become to the characters and how James Cameron spun the tale to make it that way. How he used such a sad time in history to show that love is strong and can come from anywhere. I realized that the novel and short stories I have recently completed don't stand anywhere near that area.
They are miles away.
I realize how proud I was (sort of still am, but to a lesser degree) of these two short stories is sadly overstated. I have to do much better to be that proud of something I wrote.
I am not saying that I think I'm a horrible writer and that I am going to quit that "career." Quite the contrary! I am going to write with renewed energy and try to do better than I ever had before!
Thank you, James Cameron, and all the actors in Titanic! You have pulled out another layer of the authoress inside me!