Over at Lit Hub, Dorthe Nors discusses writing about middle aged women who, on the verge of becoming invisible to a society that only values women as mothers or as sex objects, refuse to disappear:
The interesting thing is that middle-aged women on the search for essence and their license to live can come off as quite provocative characters. Some people regard them as lacking self control—or even worse; they are conceived of as “self absorbed.” A middle-aged woman who’s not preoccupied with handling herself or taking care of someone else is a dangerous, erratic being. What is she up to? And what’s the point of her being up to anything?
