Being Mama

By Deborah Sharp

I knew I’d crossed a line when I spent two hours in the wedding aisle of a fabric store, examining tulle.

Formerly known to me as ''that floaty stuff ballerinas wear,'' the fabric has assumed an unnatural importance of late. My latest mystery novel is set around a wedding. So, I have immersed myself in all things nuptial.

''Which color do you think Mama would like for her bouquet?'' I asked my husband.

He looked at several spools of orange ribbon I’d bought, from sherbet-shaded to Halloween pumpkin. And then he looked at me. He spoke carefully.

''You do know ‘Mama’ is a fictional character, right?''

''What’s your point?'' I asked.

I think he’s beginning to resent the fact that this pretend wedding for a woman who doesn’t exist is getting more of my attention than our own wedding did, 21 years ago.

My own wedding was simple, a backyard affair. But the Mama character defines over-the-top, complete with a Pomeranian as ring-bearer, Scarlett O'Hara bridesmaid gowns, and a ''Gone With the Wind'' themed wedding. A friend made a suitably tacky, Mama-style veil for me to wear at book signings. It looks like a dropping of fake flowers and tulle that some huge, prehistoric wedding bird plopped on the top of my head.

(You can get a glimpse of The Veil in a clip from a book event that ran during my recent interview on the Today Show. Click here to watch. )

I never made favors for OUR wedding. But for MAMA GETS HITCHED, I stuffed more than a hundred teeny-tiny gift bags, tying and curling the ends of each pastel ribbon. The intent of the bags: To build anticipation last spring among mystery fans at the Malice Domestic conference for the summer launch of HITCHED. I’ve combed bridal books for the perfect punch to serve, and laminated JUST MARRIED signs for book-store podiums.

Another friend, a judge, offered to appear at one of my signings, dressed in his official black robes.

''I’ll perform the wedding for Mama,'' he said eagerly.

''Great, we'll have a bride's side and a groom's side. We'll get a soloist to do Mama's favorite song . . . ''

Suddenly, I realized there could be a little problem with my failure to distinguish between reality and my fictional character. Technically, I’m Mama, since she lives inside my head. Legally, I’m already married. If my husband is miffed about the energy I’m devoting to Mama’s wedding, how will he feel when I come home with her groom?

Alas, I had to turn down the judge’s offer.

Now that I’ve saved myself from bigamy, I’ve got to run. I’m headed to the bakery to pick out Mama’s wedding cake.

How about you? Writers, what crazy thing have you done for your fictional character? Readers, what makes you blur the line between fiction and reality?

Wedding Wrongs

By Deborah Sharp


I tied the knot 21 years ago, but I still remember the stress of wedding planning. Even so, the nuptial scene seems a lot nuttier today than it was back then.


I've been researching fun ideas to tie-in to this summer's launch of MAMA GETS HITCHED, the third book in my mystery series. It's opened my eyes to all the ways that weddings can go horribly (and, let's face it: amusingly) awry.


Turns out that getting married in modern times is a nightmare, y'all. And just like everything else in life today, the Internet is there to collect and catalog an infinite supply of weddings gone wrong. Etiquette Hell. Cakewrecks. TackyWeddings.


And don't get me started on YouTube. Sure, you'll see those cute, dancing-down-the-aisle clips, with good-looking, high-stepping bridal parties and guests. But those clips are outnumbered by far by bridesmaid catfights, bridezilla meltdowns, and drunken groom swear fests.


Lordy, lordy, people. It's supposed to be a Special Day. A Blessed Union. Can't we all just behave?

Funny thing is, I thought I'd gone over-the-top tacky writing the fifth trip down the aisle for my Mama character: A Gone with the Wind theme at the VFW hall, bridesmaids wearing five pounds of ruffles AND holding parasols, and a ring-bearing Pomeranian in a satin vest and top hat. Turns out I could have gone a WHOLE lot tackier, and still not been as tasteless as the ceremonies captured at White Trash Weddings.


Looks like Mama will have to trip down the aisle for Sacred Union No. 6, just so I can work into the wedding party a Rottweiler in a Rebel flag neckerchief and bridesmaids wearing camouflage.


How about you? Care to share any details from tacky weddings in your past? Horrible bridesmaid dresses? Drunken toasts by the best man? Tipsy bride nearly taking a tumble off the dock into the New River? (No, wait: That was MY wedding ...)