Invisible

It doesn’t mean it’s not there

That’s a lot of wrinkles…and wisdom. Photo by and of the author.

I frequent a number of writing groups each week, some more faithfully than others, where we work off prompts, share publishing secrets/successes/nightmares, create marketing plans, and test-drive dialogue.

Recently, I attended a group where we practiced crafting clever bios and the proverbial elevator pitch for our work. It sounds trite, but it’s important for an author to have both these items in her back pocket, ready to display and wow a listener. As a professional marketer, I’ve written countless bios and pitches for clients since they are typically rubbish at marketing themselves.

Turns out I’m no different. I’m rubbish at self-promotion. My bio sounds like an uptight tech CV. Wake me when it’s over.

But because my intention is to actually sell books, not just write them, I recognize that I need these pieces. The euphemism If you build it, they will come is simple fiction. Words matter, and publicity is built on words.

And so I worked on the words. And went down a winding rabbit hole as I wrote.

I write contemporary fiction for the invisible woman because mature women deserve to see themselves in literature, showing that transcendent life and love can truly begin after 30.

The word invisible caught my eye—and yes, I recognize that’s a bit oxymoronic. But it started me thinking: Invisible doesn’t mean it’s not there. It just means we can’t see it.

What are examples of invisibility? I remembered Harry Potter’s magic cloak. It was a benefit to him to be able to invisibly move through the castle to learn secrets and avoid danger. Then I thought of the feast scene in Hook. The lavish meal remained invisible to Robin Williams until he remembered who he was: Peter Pan. Only then could he see the food and the beauty of Neverland. Only then could he engage with his beloved boys and defeat the wily pirate who kidnapped his children.

It's easy to disparage the earnest comment, “I see you,” as so much pop psychology pablum. But when someone truly moves through life as invisible, it can be a treasure, a sincere gift. For many middle-aged women, being invisible is a daily anguish. It’s not whining to note that there are declining opportunities for women over 40 in every aspect of life, from careers to love interests.

And in contemporary women’s fiction.

So I write for them—for me. I write to illuminate the truth that women who are in the second half of life can experience vibrant and rewarding careers, friendships, and passion. I showcase their intelligence, sassiness, experience, and value.

On a roll after writing my brief bio statement, I took on the challenge of writing the elevator pitch for my debut novel. Why not? I’m a 62-year-old woman who isn’t ready to disappear into the woodwork.

Is a middle-aged woman worth writing about? Cindy Villanueva believes so. In Bread Pudding in Barcelona, book one of the Blooming series, the author puts a new, mature spin on the traditional coming of age story. She enlivens the stereotypical protagonist, proving that midlife careers, deep friendships, and true love don’t lose any of their power, opportunity…or sex appeal.

When I read what I’ve written, it doesn’t look like much. Two small snippets of words, but they invigorated me. Now I’m keen to use them—supposing I ever get stuck in an elevator with someone who randomly asks, “So what do you do?”

These words really do matter. For all you women who’ve been around the block and aren’t content with invisibility:

I see you.

Interested in Bread Pudding in Barcelona, the first book in the Blooming series? You can purchase the paperback or ebook on amazon.com, amazon.co.uk, amazon.ca, amazon.com.au, amazon.de, and others.