Guest Post: Liz Reinhardt (Double Clutch)

I’m so excited about today, everyone! I have author Liz Reinhardt here with an adorable giggle-worthy guest post. If you haven’t already check out my review of Liz’s book, Double Clutch, that was posted earlier this week! Many thanks to Liz for joining us!

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My first YA novel, Double Clutch, has been out for almost two months, and I’ve been able to snoop around and see what readers like. One thing that comes up fairly often is that people like that Brenna, the main character, does what she likes without taking any crap from anyone. I’ve been asked what parts of Brenna were inspired by me, and I’d like to say that was one…but I was a little less sure in high school.

It wasn’t that I wanted to fit in with any one group. I really wanted to do my own thing! But I wasn’t sure what that was. And I had a really opinionated boyfriend at the time who had no problem making fun of things I liked and telling me how much cooler things he liked were.

See this girl’s bangs? It took her forty-five minutes to cut them. How do I know that? She’s in a movie called  The Chelsea Girls, and she actually cut her bangs on screen, and it actually took forty-five minutes. I thought the movie was kind of boring and pretentious. My boyfriend at the time thought it was genius and made fun of me for not liking it. So I sat and watched the movie for THREE HOURS, and when my boyfriend made fun of me for being bored by it again, I dumped him.

 

After a while, it was hard to know what I liked, because I spent a lot of time pretending to like what he did. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing to try something new; but you should be true to yourself about what you like.

So I dumped my long-term boyfriend, and I went crazy discovering all these amazing things that I liked, but had been kind of nervous to say I liked, because I thought he might make fun of me. I liked Bjork! I liked Gilmore Girls! I liked indie rock! I liked National Geographic! It was a really cool time.

I know what you’re thinking…who doesn’t love these two?! If you are with someone who mocks you for loving something as awesomely perfect as the sweetie pie Gilmores, please lose that person right now. Trust me, you’ll thank yourself for it!

 

It was also the time I met another guy who was really different from my ex-boyfriend. I liked that, too! I wanted to date people who were different from my ex.

This guy was actually pretty unlike anyone I’d ever hung around with before. He’d been working since he was a young teenager, awful jobs like catching bags of cement and cleaning ski lifts in the winter. He loved trucks and was an awesome mechanic, listened to hard rock, liked horror movies, had lots of tattoos, didn’t read anything but Chilton manuals. But, most importantly, when we talked, he really listened to me, and he thought what I said was funny and interesting! And I felt the same way when I talked to him.

Of course, I fell head-over-heels for this guy, and I really admired his confidence and the fact that he was kind of a rebel. Unlike me, he’d been able to do his own thing for years. Unlike me, he wasn’t afraid of what other people thought of him.

Or so I thought.

Spoiler – I totally should have realized that ‘being a rebel’ doesn’t equal ‘not having insecurities.’ I’ve read enough books and watched enough movies to know better! It’s okay…I figure it out!

 

It was almost his birthday the first year we were officially dating. I really wanted to do something special for him, so I started asking people who knew Frank what he might like.

“Get him new speakers for his truck,” his middle brother said. “When we went to see Rob Zombie, he said his speakers sucked.”

“Pay for him to get new ink.” His heavily tattooed cousin then used his own body to show me different artists’ work and recommended places I could take Frank. “He’s still got too much empty skin.”

“Definitely rims for his truck,” his younger brother said. “Stop by the shop, and I’ll show you some.”

Rims confuse me! Are these awesome? Why or why not? I was relying very heavily on public transportation at that time in my life, so any vehicle that ran and didn’t run the risk of forcing you to sit next to someone with atrocious body odor was amazing in my book.

 

I was really, really nervous to pick any of these gifts, because they were far out of my realm of knowledge, and I wanted this gift to be great. I decided to do a little prying of my own. When Frank came over for dinner at my college dorm, I tried to get a feel for what he might like.

“So, were you thinking of getting speakers for the truck?” I asked as I scooped my specialty, piping hot Kraft Mac n’Cheese made with extra butter, into a pink plastic bowl for him.

He thanked me and said, “My speakers are alright. Please don’t spend any money on new speakers for me. Have you been talking to my brothers?”

I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought. “No!” I denied. “I just wondered if you were thinking of new speakers. Can’t a girl ask a guy about new speakers?” I demanded.

He wolfed down his gourmet dinner and said, “You work hard for your money. College isn’t cheap. I don’t need anything for my birthday. We’ll spend the day together. I’ll take you out to eat, maybe we can catch a good movie. Seriously, being with you will make it an awesome birthday.”

 

It IS true. We can have a blast just hanging out like two dorks in love. But still, that kind of sweetness deserves a great birthday gift!

 

Okay, now the gauntlet had been thrown. Now he was getting an awesome gift whether he liked it or not! But I still couldn’t get a feel for what that might be…until my music crazed roommate came home, stole some Mac n’Cheese, and headed to her room to blast music that I no longer paid attention to, because it played nonstop, and I had become immune.

But Frank sat up like he’d just heard the angels singing. “Is that Les Miserables?”

I listened and suppressed a groan. “Yep. I think she’s going with her friends.” I made a face, and was about to lead into a long tirade about how boring I found Broadway musicals and how I’d gone to see so many in middle in high school and found them kind of cheesy and overdone.

“Did you want to go?” Frank asked, totally misinterpreting my face. “Because you should spend your money on that. That would be worth it. Could you imagine getting to see a real Broadway musical?”

I guess, since I didn’t like them, I’d never mentioned that I had seen many and hadn’t been into it. But, right at that moment, I was so shocked, I almost dropped my fork. My motor-head, tattooed, metal loving boyfriend had always dreamed of Broadway?

I do realize that Broadway is amazing. I’m not a soulless freak, I promise! I just don’t love musicals. Okay, I’ll stop now, because I know you’re judging me.

 

“Frank, the train into the city takes, like, half an hour. Why don’t you go?” I asked, scooping him more noodles.

“Nah.” He stopped for a sad second to listen to the strains of some awful ballad in my roommate’s room. “Me? Go to Broadway? I’d never hear the end of it.”

“From who?” I gripped the serving spoon tight.

“You know. My brothers. My cousins. Who would I go with? They already think I’m a freak for wanting to go.” He shrugged like it was out of the question to even hope for a chance to go.

And I felt two things. I felt intensely surprised. Surprised that my super cool, super confident, open-minded boyfriend had insecurities and hidden dreams just like me. And I felt inspired. Because, like them or not, I knew all about mezzanine versus orchestra seating and taking the subway to Broadway.

 

Yep. Third row back from the stage. Pretty expensive for a college kid, but you should have seen the look on his face!

So I got tickets, literally made his jaw drop with surprise, got spun around and kissed senseless, and very much enjoyed holding his shaking, sweaty hand as we entered big, bad NYC (he’d never been!) and saw his first musical.

He sat on the edge of his seat, program clutched in his hands, mouth open, eyes unblinking, and drank the whole thing in. At the end, he was floating on clouds of impassioned ballads about disfigured men in love with pretty singing girls, and he hugged me tight.

“I’m so glad you love Broadway! I never thought anyone would go with me!” He pulled me close to stop me from getting jostled by the rushing New Yorkers.

I could no longer keep up the facade.

“Um, actually don’t like musicals. At all.” I almost fell over when he dropped his arms like I’d just shocked him with an electrical current.

He stopped in the middle of the street and stared at me, probably waiting for lightning to strike me on the head. “What?” He spoke slowly. “You mean you just watched that show, and you didn’t like it?”

“Sorry.” I patted his arm. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“But it must have been a lot of money. You had to take a day off from classes! I never would have agreed to all of this! Liz, I thought you liked them, too! I thought you bought the tickets because you loved musicals and wanted to go with me! Why would you do all that if you don’t even like them?”

I honestly couldn’t tell if he was aggravated or just confused.

“I bought tickets to Broadway because you like Broadway, and I like you,” I explained. “We don’t have to like all the same things. That doesn’t mean we can’t make an effort for each other.”

“You mean you bought these just for me?”

I nodded. And, oh man, did I get kissed. Kissed silly! Kissed lovingly! Kissed by a guy who knew that someone loved him for who he was, no matter what he liked or wanted or dreamed of.

And, I can honestly say, that is, to this day, the thing we like best about each other, and the thing I find most romantic in my own books. I love it when the characters root for each other, even when they don’t quite get what they’re rooting for. Because, as far as I’m concerned, that’s real love.

You’ll know it when you’ve got it. When I found it, it even made Broadway show tunes sound good.

(Huge thank you to Amanda for allowing me to crash her blog with my crazy story! I would endure back to back Broadway musicals for you any day!)

Aw, love!