NBC and Debra Messing Stole My Identity!

Imagine the shock to find this in my inbox from my on-the-case cousin:

“Dear Laura,

I assume this is based on you.”

I clicked on her link to find that the “this” is a new TV show, “The Mysteries of Laura,” in which Debra Messing plays a single mom homicide detective who looks great in a bathing suit and spits out one-liners like she has a staff writing for her.

Debra Messing

 

 

And that her name is Laura Diamond.

My first reaction was to feel violated: That’s my name!

 

Then I remembered: it’s not only my name. There’s a singer who got http://www.Lauradiamond.com first. There are scores of Laura Diamond’s on Facebook. Once I wasn’t even the only Laura Diamond in the room. At a Santa Monica wine bar, after seeing my name on my credit card the waitress said, “Laura Diamond is my best friend’s name. And she’s sitting right over there!” She gestured to a younger, prettier, brunette Laura Diamond. I wasn’t even the best-looking Laura Diamond in the room.

I have some thinking to do. Should I use this to my benefit, and pretend that the show is based on my secret other life? Should I embrace the fact that my name sounds like it belongs to a homicide detective? I mean, that’s hot, right? Or do I need a nom de plume, lest people think Debra Messing’s character is writing books?

I can either embrace my moment in the limelight, or go back to my family’s pre-Ellis Island appellation — NBC is unlikely to name a character Laura Dimondshtein.

I think the only thing to do is to claim her with pride. After all, I do love Debra Messing.

Debra Messing2

 

Laura Diamond’s of the world, do you have any suggestions as to how to handle this?

Dare to Kick Self-Doubt in the Shins

It’s early in the week for the self-doubt to start, but there it is. “This is garbage,” I sigh, caught in a second draft of a book about Recession, Moving, and other good times.

A novel, also unfinished, waits in a different file on my computer, taunting, “What am I, chopped liver? How many more years are you going to take to finish me?” Low blow, novel, low blow.

It takes a lot of chutzpah to shout down those voices, or as Kelly Corrigan says (so much better than I, darn you Kelly), to suspend your disbelief for as long as it takes to accomplish your dream, be it a start-up, a screenplay, or an Ironman.

A good mantra would be helpful here, but I’ll go with what comes to mind: “No time like the present.” And here we go. Back to dreaming.

For more “Confessions of Motherhood,” read Deliver Me: True Confessions of Motherhood, the best-selling collection of true stories. Read reviews.

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