Great jumpin’ Jermaine Jackson. I started this as a short post and it ended up being a brain sprawl. Sorry. If you make it through this one, I’ll give you a cookie.
And now on with our story, but only a little more on. Truth be told, my ADD is flaring up. I’ve already bored myself into oblivion, talking about the whole Presentation Weekend, or “geekend,” if you will. I’m not quite sure what “if you will” means, but it sounds very nice and writerly, so I used it.
It was all pretty swell. There were probably about two-hundred people in attendance– web gurus and gurettes, developers, content creators, social media geniuses and, um– me. Amadeus came along for moral support.
The environment was kind of corporate and I felt rather old school– like a cavewoman at a Microsoft convention. I’d gone as a representative of team Personal Blog, and was astounded to learn that the franchise was so small. For the most part, I was surrounded by people who’ve figured out (or are in the process of figuring out) how to successfully earn income from the web, something as elusive to me as reupholstering a sofa or cooking an egg from scratch. For most of the weekend, attendees were plugged into laptops, notebooks, iPads and cell phones, sending out blow-by-blows via Twitter. Having been out of the business world for a few years now, it slapped me upside the head, catapulted me into the present and opened my eyes to the big wide world of electronic social interaction. In the old country, our language deals with dreams, perceptions and emotions; suddenly, I’d landed in a place where everyone spoke Search Engine Optimization. I enjoyed the hell out of it, but it was a brain-opener. I’d hoped to learn the lingo, but I have to admit that in the end, I was as lost as I’d ever been. It was all just too much for my McNugget-sized brain.
There were a couple of self-published authors there, but I didn’t attend their sessions. I somehow overlooked one of them, and the other– a very funny, social media-savvy mommy blogger with 8000 Amazon reviews and stylish hair– was speaking at the same time as yours truly. It was a shame too– if there was anyone that I felt might be a kindred spirit, it was she. I’d found the one person I could probably learn the most from and I was going to miss her presentation. Apparently, she’s hugely popular around here, and since I’ve always quietly written under a pseudonym, I’m an unknown. I began to worry that I’d be playing to an audience of one– Amadeus– and he’d heard my presentation before, in our living room.
Let me backtrack a little here. If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you know that I put the “anx” in anxiety, the “orr” in worry. Deep down inside, I always feel a bit like this:
It’s my inner ragamuffin– the little lost girl with the crappy background and the too-small shoes. I’ve learned to love her, but I sometimes wish she’d stop tagging along uninvited. She causes me to fight feelings of otherness, of being a stranger in a strange land. At the same time, there’s a part of me that puts a protective arm around her and kind of guides her through. “C’mon kid,” I say. “Let’s do this thang. It’s all gonna be just fine.”
It was hard to write about all of this until now, because it took a while to process it. I can never just “go” to something. I go and have feelings and overthink. Afterwards, I review and digest and pour it all back out into about fifteen cereal bowls. Everything is multi-dimensional. It sometimes wears me out.
Life is high school, over and over again. And while I love, love, love life, I hate, hate, hated high school. Nowadays, I tend to see myself as a homeschooler in a world of proms and pep-rallies. There are no mean girls or bullies at my academy, no prom queens or kings. We all do well on our ACTs. At my school, there’s no social strata- everyone’s on equal footing. It’s a kind and gentle environment.
~~~~
There’s a big, organized network of bloggers in this area. They seem to be mostly women, and I’ve perused a few if their sites. I read with interest about the adorable things their kids say and do. Some of these ladies share beauty secrets, recipes and decorating tips. Others tell funny stories about marriage and home life. A lot of them grew up here. They go to church on Sundays and some go to work on Mondays and they update their websites and bond with other mamas and some make money in the process. A few attend blogging conventions together; some hold monthly meetings. On their blogs, I sometimes see photos of them with their families, all stylishly dressed in crisp clothing, standing on perfect lawns and in perfectly appointed living rooms. I read about their lives and I feel no connection. It’s a world I don’t relate to, and it sometimes seems as though I’m reading an anthropological journal about some faraway tribe.
I’m not just a misfit in the blogging world– I’m aware of my oddness everywhere I go. I visit bookstores and listen to women my age read poetry about wolves and dolphins and sending up prayers to the Goddess and I feel as out of place as a sardine in a can of Pringles. I hang with granola-eating friends who discuss the latest in New Age wisdom, knowing that in fifteen minutes or so, I’m going to go home, order pizza and watch “Pawn Stars” with my husband. The online writer’s group I recently joined is chock-a-block full of talented people from various backgrounds, and I cannonball into their Facebook page, searching for the five or six people I’ll be able to relate to.
Weirdly, I love it all. I admire Those Who Feel At Ease. It’s beautiful to witness. The grooviest thing is that, while I used to look at my otherness as a negative, I now see it as a neutral. No one’s really better or worse than anyone else (unless they’re mean– mean people really do suck. Stupid’s not so great either). Everyone has a story to tell, and I know from experience that there are skeletons in the closets of those better homes and bodies buried in the gardens. I dislike hatred and bigotry and shallowness, so I distance myself from those things, but otherwise, bring it on. The interactions may not be smooth, I may feel graceless, but for God’s sake, give me the experiences. It’s what makes life so rich and gooey. I can’t play it like the big boys, but I still want to play.
So, I went to this thing. I was awkward. It was great. The week before the presentation, I discovered that everyone was Twittering like a flock of sparrows about the Big Weekend. A really kind woman in my writer’s group gave me a thirty-minute social media telephone crash course and I jumped into the fray, trying my best to publicize my presentation via Twitter. It was a fun challenge, trying to figure out how to attract attention in 140 characters or less. In the end, I wrote, “Come to my presentation and I’ll give you a cookie.”
And you know, the most wonderful things happened. People came, probably twenty-five or thirty of them. One was a woman I used to work for at the university, a smart, savvy woman with a Ph.D., who was now hoping to learn from me. Wow. I took a breath and did my thing. For forty minutes, I blabbed about blogging, and enthused about the power and healing inherent in sitting and doing what I’m doing right now. I encouraged the audience to give it a try. I assured them that by journaling their journeys, they’d receive love, support and encouragement, and that along the way, they’d meet wonderful people like you. They’d find their tribe.
It was quite lovely. The people listening seemed warm and receptive. Afterward, the university woman told me how helpful it was for her current project. A newspaper editor wrote that mine was the best presentation of the weekend (squeee!). Another woman told me that it was the only session from which she’d gained something. The room was fuzzy and warm, full of unicorns and bunnies. We were all speaking a common language, and this time, it was my native tongue.
As Amadeus and I left at the end of the day, he swiped a poster that was Scotch taped to one of the glass doors in the lobby. It had my name and the title of my session printed on it. I think he was extremely proud of me, and wanted to take home a memento from the weekend. They were probably going to trash it anyway.
~~~~~
For a few days afterwards, I experienced a bit of sadness. The embers of the afterglow were burning out, and while the presentation was a success, I was left with niggling feelings of awfulness. I’d met some friendly people, but I hadn’t fully accomplished my mission, which was to expand my knowledge base and learn to earn. I was a failure at networking. My entrepreneurial spirit sucks. I was more aware than ever of my square peggishness. I was back to ground zero.
Amadeus and I sat out on the patio last night, small in our chairs beneath the stars and the trees. “You know,” I said, “the things I set out to learn are never the things that I learn.” I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I know he was giving me the look that says, Okay, I’m going to try to follow you and your whacko brain train, but no promises. I’ll just hope for the best.
“I was kind of disappointed about the geekend. Everybody was so up on technology and web development and social media. And they’re all incredible self-promoters. Most of the time, I didn’t even understand what they were selling, and I sure as hell didn’t understand what anyone was saying. I felt like a kindergartner at Harvard.”
I stopped for a minute and we listened to a rowdy bunch of cicadas singing some Van Halen tune.
“But I did learn something,” I continued.
“What, pray tell, was that, my darling?” my husband asked, dying to hear my brilliant take on the matter. Okay, he totally didn’t say that.
“Not everybody with a website is an entrepreneur, a marketer or a developer. Some aren’t interested in social media, they just want to express themselves. Some people just write. And I was there for them. I represented.”
“That’s right, baby,” he said, and he really did say that.
I love you and your writing. That’s all. The end.
I love you and your writing back. That is not all.
For some reason, I’ve never been able to subscribe to your blog. I’ve tried a few times, but it never seems to work. I want e-mail notifications, damnit! For this reason, and because I have an overloaded, space cadet kind of brain, my main memory jogger is you. So when I read your comment, I headed over to your place. I just sat there, reading and re-reading, watching and absorbing. Your words and the video moved me beyond words. I’ll be back over there soon, but for right now, I just have to carry it around for a while. One “I love you” just isn’t enough. To quote Woody Allen: “Love is too weak a word for what I feel – I lurve you, you know, I loave you…”
I loave you, Claire, I really do.
Great post as always.
I heard a discussion on the radio about making money using “social media”; general conclusion – almost impossible. You can get a zillion hits but they don’t translate into sales – some companies have given up.
Awkward hugs.
P.S. I tried to eat the cookie – but the damn thing wouldn’t budge – now my screen needs cleaning…
Awwww…big, awkward hugs back, Pat. I’m so sorry about your screen. That is an awfully big cookie.
Social media is the world’s way of telling me I’m getting old. It just seems that so many people are out there promoting themselves– there’s often no product, no substance. And some of it feels manipulative– everything’s based on hits, so people drive folks to their websites by using specific words intended to catch their attention. It’s arranging words in a way to make money– not necessarily to enhance lives, provide entertainment or expand minds. Don’t get me wrong– there’s nothing wrong with this. But words are pretty precious things to me, and sometimes the way they’re being used feels almost wasteful. Cheap and tawdry.
Some do it really well though, so I know that I’m not seeing the big picture.
I’m probably not expressing this well, but I haven’t had much sleep.
YOU felt awkward? How could you feel out of place? I-would feel out of place. I would have had absolutely NOTHING in common with anyone in that room. I’m not mature enough, not social enough, though I probably could tweet them under the table. But I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself. You don’t give yourself enough credit! You’re very bright! And you’re more like them than you think. Just because you don’t connect to certain ones doesn’t mean you’re the odd one. I don’t connect to at least 99% of my subscribers, but that’s just me. I’m not that worldly. I’m grateful that they like to read my jibberish. But you’ve been here, there, places I’ll NEVER see. No, my friend, you’re right up there with them! You probably even talk more sense than they do. You talk TO people. Not at them. That’s why people loved your presentation! For forty minutes no less!! I’m lucky I could get up there and talk about blogging for 2.
Give yourself a cookie! Hell, give yourself and A a cookie!
Well, Irene, that’s the thing– I think that a lot of us go into situations like that feeling we have nothing in common with anyone in the room. THOSE are our peeps! It’s one of my big life lessons– whenever I think I’m the only one feeling a certain way or holding a certain opinion, my stupid, broken on/off switch usually proves it to be untrue. Viva la misfits. We’re often the majority, which means we’re not misfits at all. Which is kind of what you said.
I think you DO connect with your subscribers, or at least they connect with you. To me, it has nothing to do with worldliness– it has to do with your big heart, your wicked sense of humor and your smarty pants brain.
Cookies!
Moonbeam, this is one of my favorite posts EVER. I am so not interested in marketing and optimizing and product and brand and all that money-business hoopla. It’s fine, I guess, for some. Call me romantic, but I have found over a long life in which I have written just about every day and earned not a fucking cent for it, that you cannot write for God (by which I mean us, the little people of the world, the untweeted) and for Caesar (like Microsoft, Apple, Big Pharma, Kraft, and Wal-mart). Sometimes someone who has something powerful and funny and fresh to say does hit the big time. Like David Sedaris. But mostly we are the Emily Dickinsons of the world, flitting about in our white dresses in the shadows of our gardens, having rich thoughts and extended ecstasies over things nobody else notices, writing things on the backs of envelopes we leave in desk drawers. We remain small in our chairs beneath the stars and the trees. And we write because it’s what we must do, we write because we are alive. Sometimes–like with this blog–we listen to each other, write to each other, write for each other. And love each other.
Kendall, I wanna write for God AND Caesar. Well, I really don’t, but here’s the thing. If Emily Dickinson lived in this day, in a modest little condo with a mortgage payment, medical bills and loved ones to support, she’d be trading that white dress in for some yoga pants. She’d chug coffee and sit behind a keyboard tweeting her ass off: “New post at wwww.emilydickinson. com.!!!” Or maybe she’d be posting on Facebook: “Because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me– just sayin’…”
I want to be the woman in that dress, writing on envelopes, but my reality is different than Emily’s. My challenge is always to figure some of this out and broaden my very limited scope. I write for love, I need to make money, I want to figure out how to combine the two. And I will. But it probably won’t be via Twitter. I suck at Twitter.
Did any of that make sense? Seriously, I’m running on about three hours sleep.
Thank you, sweet Moonbeam. I will fix the subscription piece. I’ll keep reminding you if you promise to keep writing too!
I have to write more too. It has been so very hard.
Thank you so much! I love what you do post. Your spirit and your heart just shines through those words. I like shiny.
Your post is golden, as are you. Square pegs and lost tribes are awesome! Why? Because square pegs and lost tribes are interesting, unique, and unpredictable. Keep on going.
27 hugs. Better make it 28. Thanks, WCMC.
I think I said this before, but I’ll say it again, if you don’t mind. I’m so glad I found your blog. This post captures so much of what’s in my fledgling blogger’s mind, the questions–and maybe even a hope or two. Square pegs stick out, so they’ve got the best vantage for observations. I hope to have an opportunity to hear you speak one day, I’ll even bring the cookies.
I’m glad you found it too, Mrs. Fringe. It allowed me to find your blog, and I LOVE your observations. Hope to share cookies with you one day soon.
It makes sense, sweet Moonbeam. I want you to have money. What I question is whether it distorts and destroys the work to sell it/ market it/ try to use it to make a living. When I was in my 20s, majoring in creative writing, a professor told us this: “Do anything you can to make a living, but for God’s sake don’t try to make a living by writing. Be a butcher, a plumber, a teacher, a secretary, anything you can. Then write at night, write in the early morning, write on weekends. It will still be YOUR writing, it will be YOUR truth. But if you start trying to make a living out of doing what you love, you change your relationship to it. You have to write what others want of you, you have to use your holy fire to cook someone else’s hamburgers. It’s like farming your child out for prostitution.” OK, that was the 70s and people were idealistic then about art and money. Since then, I made a living by editing (and my writing dried up while I was doing that), by teaching (which left me almost no time for writing), by creating slide shows and training programs (which almost ruined my writing and did lasting damage to my brain), by doing social service (which provided me with hundreds of powerful stories I didn’t have time to write), and by painting houses (which left me more energy for writing, but my body broke down gradually and I couldn’t keep it up). I don’t have the answers. But I have found that “going professional” means losing the privilege of telling the truth. It means altering to fit the needs of who is paying for it. That is very risky. I’m just sayin–
You are just one of those people I want to sit down with and jabber over coffee for about 5 hours, Kendall.
I know exactly what you’re talking about. All of it. I think about that relationship with writing a lot. Full-time employment kills it (and also my body). I envy guys like Larry Brown, who worked in a firehouse and managed to crank out some of the best short stories in the world between blazes.
I’d written a bunch more here, but I didn’t like it, so I erased it. I really don’t have to expound. You get it.
Uh, oh. I have a P.S. It has to do with truth. I really do think you can be paid for writing and still tell the truth. I’ve done it and it’s the swellest.
Kendall’s professor probably gave sound advice, but I know it is your dream to work as a writer and, in your case, I would never suggest that you should aim for anything else.
I do have some advice – of a general nature.
Here is a link you might find interesting:
http://kimharrison.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/an-open-letter-to-i-am-special-writers/
Kim Harrison is one of my favourites – she has a very quirky series which has done really well.
And, now, for something a bit different – along the lines of “The secret”. As a scientist, I can only say that it has no rational basis whatsoever. But, I have a bit of anecdotal evidence that it might be worth a try – certainly it is in “the nothing to lose” category.
Write down your goals – make them fairly specific – and visualize the things you want to happen, happening – again be fairly specific – picture your husband congratulating you or you telling him all about it or both.
I know a woman who said to herself, when driving into a “pay and display” car park: “I chose to live in an easy world where everything is easy”. Not only did she find a park, but, when she went to pay for it, a stranger approached her and offered her the time still left on their ticket. She got free parking. It happened again a couple of days later. It had never happened to her before.
A young scientist, wrote down his goal for the years ahead: “Establish an international reputation.” It took many years, but one day he woke up and realized that it had actually happened. Perhaps it would have happened anyway, even if it hadn’t been written down. IDK.
As I said, this is complete nonsense and can’t possibly work, but we live in a world where rational explanation fails to explain our existence. Perhaps the subconscious is more connected to the “universe” than we realize. Articulate what you want and perhaps it will come true (just don’t wish for perky breasts and perfect skin – those who have been following your blog a while will know that about L).
Thanks for coming back and weighing in, Pat. I always love your take on things.
Here’s my morning ramble about all of this (and God I’m so sorry– I didn’t mean for this to become a discussion about my writing woes):
I think writing professors often give the same advice that Kendall’s did. I’ve certainly heard those words. It’s a valid statement, and in part, it’s meant to weed out the wusses, to scare off those who aren’t committed. There are a lot of pretty awful aspiring writers sitting in their classes. Dorothy Parker stated that the greatest favor you could do for an aspiring young writer is to “shoot them now, while they’re happy.” Professors often try to do just that, verbally. It’s an act of mercy.
I didn’t want to read that link you sent, because the title seemed mean, but it was a good article, and sound advice. I plan to jump deeper into Kim’s website soon.
You know, I’ve always poopooed the manifesting thing, but for the past year or two I’ve tried it out. It’s all about lassoing your intents and dreams, roping together vague ideas and forming a clear picture of what you want. I like what your friend did with the parking– she changed the message that she sent herself, and by doing so, she changed her reality. Same with the scientist.
I’ve had a lot of figuring out to do lately, regarding my chosen profession. Soul searching often feels like shit, but it’s a very good thing. My experience has been that feeling awful usually precedes big change. Change is hard, but if what you’re doing isn’t working, change is necessary and good. So, I’ve come to this fantastic place. I’m toughening up, and coming out of hiding from behind the keyboard a bit more. A couple of weeks ago, I was invited to read some of my stuff at an event for poets, artists and musicians. I’m the only prose writer on the ticket, and I felt very honored that the organizer had heard about my work and decided to include me. That’s a small example of the good things that have been happening. My world is changing.
Wait, wait– I’m still rambling! So, in this soul searching, what I’ve figured out is this: To be a writer– a paid writer, you have to be brave, as brave as a Navy SEAL. You’ve got to take those little words you piece together and show them to the world. You have to not only believe in yourself– you’ve got to be an advocate for yourself. You won’t be everyone’s cup of joe. Not everyone will share your opinions. But you gotta get out there. I’ve known mediocre writers who’ve done fabulously well, because they’re fabulous self-promoters. They believe in their product. They toot their horns and tweet their hearts out. They learn how to maneuver the minefields of editors and publishers and social media, and in the process, they get work and make money. They’re determined and focused and it’s contagious. You start to feel excited for them.
I believe in myself, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world, because I’m surrounded by good, loving people who believe in me too. I’m furiously working on the weak spots, for me and for them. I envision it all happening– even the perky breasts.
Wow- what a ramble. You get another cookie, Pat.
Carmen from WCWW3 here. Just have to take a minute to say how much I loved this post. It really resonated with me for soooo many reasons. Wow do I know that feeling of dragging a little ragamuffin around. Reading this makes me wish I had been at your presentation.
Oooh, Carmen, thanks– I’m so glad you came by! I wish you’d been there too.
“To be a writer– a paid writer, you have to be brave, as brave as a Navy SEAL. You’ve got to take those little words you piece together and show them to the world. You have to not only believe in yourself– you’ve got to be an advocate for yourself. You won’t be everyone’s cup of joe. Not everyone will share your opinions. But you gotta get out there.”
Hell, yeah! I really loved this post and your honesty.
I write for a living (books, magazine and newspaper and web articles) and blog 3x week and it’s scary as shit to put your work out there for judgment, review, scrutiny. But you can’t hit a pitch if you’re not even standing at the plate (horrible analogy, but too bad.) I’ve been writing for a living since college, some of it highly personal stuff and, yes, sometimes the shit people say will kill you — if you let it. So, don’t let it.
There is always someone whose skills and self-confidence will make you feel super-wobbly and hopelessly out of it. Best to avoid those people, or learn as much as you can from them.
Congratulations on living the dream! You’re so right. You have to stand at that plate. And you have to keep standing there, even if you think you might get rained out. It’s a huge piece of all of this. I’ve got to start geurilla-submitting my work. Finding the right market is always the challenge– I’m always looking for a place for myself out there, and it’s sometimes hard to see. It’s not rejection letters that sting so much as dead silence. I’ve talked to local editors here (my goal is a column), and we have great conversations. I submit writing samples, but there is never follow-up on their end (I can think of one exception). It’s disheartening, but screw it– I’m going to become a bulldozer.
I loved your comments here so much that I clicked your name and found your fabulous blog. Following.
Oh Moonbeam! I have so much to say here but I need to process it all first. Besides … synchronicity has struck again! You’ve pretty much put into words a good chunk of what I’ve been thinking and have experienced anyhow.
Excellent post (as always
! And you’ve nudged me a little more toward another idea I’ve been mulling over regarding a group … BUT for now, I simply need a break. I need to earn a living. I need to just ‘be’ for a while! On the other hand I feel so strongly that I can’t afford to lose another minute … I can’t shake the feeling that time is running out and I’ve squandered the ‘good years’ and to create, finish and produce good writing takes … sooo … much time …. (at least for me.) It’s such a struggle.
I don’t know. I’m going thru some sort of major metamorphosis and it’s very painful and very very confusing. Thank you sooooo much for sharing all of this. You are kindred and an inspiration to so many creative souls.
Keep on being the wonderfully talented unique one in a million you! Your words truly are gold! AND there are far too many round pegs out there!!!
XXOO
Annie, I owe you e-mail. I love it when we talk, but I also know that when we don’t it’s because we’re busy doing wonderful, worky, writey things, which is the best excuse ever.
I’m so happy you’ve got so much going on!! I’m glad you’re getting to “be!” Time’s not running out– you’re just filling your tank. But boyohboy, do I know that desperate feeling.
It sounds as though we’re on a similar track, what with all the metamorphosing and all. I’ll bet you’ll make a lovely butterfly.
We have such ESP lives. I was talking to a friend this morning about a writer’s group I plan to start. XOXOXO
I’m just sorta speechless here. I’ve read this post a couple of times now. And the commentary. I’m so glad that you were able to participate in that event. And yeah, I’d definitely pay money to read your stuff. No question.
That little ragamuffin looks like a girl I used to know when I was a kid.
I understand completely, David. It knocked me speechless for little while too. Then, ya know, I blurbled out 89,000 words, because I’m a blurbler. <3<3<3
Moonbeam.
As you know I’m an introvert compelled due to family circumstances to be an ambivert for most of my life. A few months ago I read an excellent book, Quiet by Susan Cain.This book spoke to me because I I’ve always been under pressure to become someone I’m not. I’m not shy but I’m not a chatterbox and large groups pf people simply drain me of all energy. In her thesis Cain provides the insight that, “The key to maximizing talents is to put yourself into the zone of stimulation that’s right for you.” If you haven’t read Quiet I urge you to do so. http://thistimethisspace.com/2012/03/05/quiet-and-societys-extroversion-bias/
I suck when it comes commenting but I’m a longtime reader of yours. I identify strongly with your awkwardness as I share it. I also have a ragamuffin girl inside me who surfaces from time to time and I’m currently attempting to befriend her.
In particular this resonates: “I was kind of disappointed about the geekend. Everybody was so up on technology and web development and social media. And they’re all incredible self-promoters. Most of the time, I didn’t even understand what they were selling, and I sure as hell didn’t understand what anyone was saying. I felt like a kindergartner at Harvard.”
It took lots of courage for you to attend that geeky function and I’m so glad to know that bloggers like me were represented by you there. The world is full of chattering self promoters who dominate everything everywhere and groupthink is a creativity killer.
I have been gutless. I could have attended WordCamps several times and was urged to do so but what you describe above held me back, as well as, my reluctance to travel due to my health issues, which can flare up without warning and do tend to flare-up whenever I’m feeling stressed. (example of run-on sentence)
I’m so introverted that when people say they want to meet their fellow bloggers face-to-face my stomach does a flip-flop. I can’t think of anything more terrifying than to be in a geeky group of self-promoters flogging what they create! But one thing I know for sure is that I would love to meet you in person as I think you may even be my long-lost twin.
All my best to you always and in everything you do,
TiTi
Dear TiTi,
I read and reread and reread this yesterday, but I couldn’t respond until now. I’m pretty certain that I won’t be able to answer the way I want to, but I’m sitting out here on the patio with my morning coffee, revving up to try. It’s all made me feel very hushed and still, as though I can’t move around too much or the spell will be broken.
You know, I’ve felt a strong connection with you since I joined WP, and am always grateful for your perspective. But this comment–this comment is a gift. There’s so much wisdom, kindness and power in your words. It’s ten layers deep. I know you’re a very private person, and I thank you for sharing all of this about yourself. It’s the antithesis of gutless.
I went out last night to hear Amadeus play, and the whole time, your comment stayed with me. Part of my brain was enjoying the music (because he was playing upright bass and it’s sexy and it distracts me), but another part was carrying around the words you shared here.
It’s not just your words. It’s this “thing” that’s going on here, in the comments section of this post. The other day, before you posted this, I began thinking, “Wow, there’s something magical going on here.” I was trying to absorb all of it. Then, you wrote and POW!
I’m not trying to sound New Agey or metaphysical or hoodoo here, but this stuff that we’re all talking about feels almost spiritual to me. It’s so human and real and it feels as though the universe is involved. It feels like this is what the world is really about. It’s hard to explain how it’s hitting me.
We are all amazing beings, but we hide ourselves from each other. We bury it beneath bullshit. It’s a societal thing, and the stronger, louder ones make up the rules and everyone follows because the strong, loud ones are the alpha dogs, the pack leaders. Everyone’s doing their best to survive and thrive and we look for gurus to show us how, because we desperately seek to make our lives more peaceful and comfortable. But no one has it figured out. Some just pretend better than others, or they’re more authoritative in sharing their convictions, which is admirable, but it doesn’t make what they’re saying correct. The little voices inside our head are often confused, because what the alpha dogs are saying doesn’t ring true with us, but they’re so dominant and they speak so eloquently that we think, “Gosh, there must be something wrong with me.”
“The world is full of chattering self promoters who dominate everything everywhere and groupthink is a creativity killer.” Truer words were never spoken. It makes for a noisy, hyperactive, nonsensical environment. It’s like falling asleep to the static on TV at the end of the broadcast day.
Sigh…I’m still trying to put together words to describe what I’m feeling.
This post is my current favorite, because of the comments it brought. I read everyone’s opinions and feelings on the subjects I rambled about and it makes me feel grateful and humble and emotional. Because to me, this is what the world is really about. This is who we really are. It’s like a “Twilight Zone” episode where reality is flipped. People will tell you that the relationships we form on the Internet aren’t real, or that they only represent one small facet of a person. The discussion here proves to me that this POV is bull hockey. The honesty shared here is reality. It’s as multifaceted as, well, something with a lot of facets (diamonds have been metaphored to death so I’m avoiding it). The way we comport ourselves out in The Real World is what we’ve invented–often by necessity, but still…The way we do it here often seems much more genuine to me.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I’ll be pondering it for a long time. But there’s something so mighty and good at work here in these little boxes underneath my post. It validates and unites us. It’s a generosity of hearts. None of us are misfits at all.
I’m almost embarrassed to hit the “publish” button on this, but I’m going to. I adore you, TiTi. And thank you.
@ Timethief
“The key to maximizing talents is to put yourself into the zone of stimulation that’s right for you.” I LOVE this. Lately I’ve been telling people that I’m sick to death of hearing people say “You must step outside your comfort zone.” I have so much to say about this but rather that rambling on …. I mainly wanted to thank you for mentioning “Quiet”. I think ran across it before but had forgotten about it. I’ll add it to my must read list asap
And OMG … your entire comment is wonderful!
(I agree, big time.)
I loved QUIET. A brilliant, loving, wise, funny book. As your fellow INFP I can assure you it was a wonderful gift to me!
I’m adding this one to my list, and putting it at the top. If you and TimeThief recommend it, it’s got to be worthwhile.
I nominated you for the Very Inspirational Blogger Award. Keep on going.
Ahhhh….more blog love (gush, gush, gush). Thank you so much, (((WCMC))).
Mb,
, but you are definitely not up to the level of all the gigabytes, terabytes, and zettabytes of the convention…lol. Wasn’t sure how badly you wanted to forget about all the nerds and geeks at the convention, but I just wanted to poke you one last time…lol
Your commenters are like something I’ve never seen before. Infact I can’t call them commenters, they are your cabinet members..lol. Really amazing to see such outpouring of information from your followers!
As I read this blog over and over, from a fellow entrepreneur’s perspective, I gotta tell you that its raising my blood pressure! WTF, Mb…You have this amazing high from your presentation and its dissolved into small glowing ember surounded by woulda, coulda, shouda?? I would have LOVED to see you pour some gasoline on that high and keep on building your momentum and excitement. You freakin had the highest rating out of all the other superstars there!! There are so many brick walls, bad news, and wasted effort when it comes to making your business a success. Landing a perfect opportunity would be a dream come true, but the next best thing is to get an adrenaline shot that makes you feel invincible, which is what your presentation did for you. Why am I not seeing a blog where you are on fire and going crazy with activities. I’m thinking activities like: amazon advantage, working on a transcript, researching who does all the creative writing for some of the biggest companies in Wisconsin(Usinger’s, Harley Davidson, BriggsStratton, John Deere, Kohler, etc), putting together a professional portfolio, Onion newspaper, spending some money on pr, etc. Lets kick some ass, Mb!! You got the talent, you gotta put some effort into doing some self promoting. You are not going to see this kind of high again in the near future, lets use it for something.
I also want to say that Mb is such a fitting name for you after this geekend. Sure it stands for Moonbeam, but its also MegaByte! You are definitely better than a kilobyte because you can at least operate your own website
Whoa, Chris! I had to let your comments percolate for a while too. Wow, I love this– is that okay? I mean, I know you’re being tough and trying to shake some sense into me and stuff, but it’s pretty remarkable, and very kind.
I don’t think of my readers as a cabinet so much as a group of the coolest, smartest people on the planet. I was surprised at the way this post resonated. It hit a nerve and led to a discussion about all sorts of deep and important things, which is really about the best thing in the world about the Power of Blogging. I love this type of interaction.
So, I read your comment a few times, and then I read it to Amadeus and we both loved it. I’m a go-getter at heart, I swear it, but there is a piece of all of this that I’m just missing. It has to do with figuring out a way to write and make moolah and still being able to be me. I’m trying to put my finger on it, but it keeps moving around. I think your lecture helped.
I’m working on the self-promotion. A pseudonym works for and against a writer, but I’m really trying to do what a fellow writer (and entrepreneur) said, which was, “I would love to see you come out with sparkles and fireworks and banners and trumpets and shit.” And I’d really love to do it too. I don’t know how, but I try mightily to learn. I’m not trying to be whiny or small here. I just don’t know how to turn what I do into a website that makes money.
I peruse bazillions of websites where people are setting themselves up as happiness experts and entrepreneurial leaders and I seldom buy it. A lot of them seem to contain short bits of non-information, but if you look at the comments, you’ll see 50 people who say, “Wow!! These 150 words just totally changed my life!” I don’t get it. I’m not trying to be mean, I don’t feel mean about it at all– but I can’t find the heart in most of it. A lot of it feels disingenuous, and I wonder sometimes what it is that we’re selling, and why so many people are willing to buy it.
As I think I mentioned somewhere earlier, I know that the way I’m viewing all of this is probably not the reality. Just because it doesn’t resonate with me, doesn’t mean that what’s being offered isn’t valid, or that the offerer doesn’t have something truly worthwhile to share. But it’s where it all starts to break down and confuse me.
I’m working on an e-book– just a little e-book. But I figure that since I don’t understand the mechanics of monetary success, I can at least learn to self-publish. It’s an experiment, and I’ll write more about it later. I’m doing some public readings. I did my presentation, and while I know that these are just tiny little building blocks, it all keeps me writing, and people seem to gain something from it, which makes me happy.
As for those big boys you mentioned in Wisconsin– Amadeus and I would pack up tomorrow and move almost anywhere, if I could support us (he’s a ready-to-retire teacher). In my mind, the terms “creative writing” and “Briggs and Stratton” don’t mesh. “The Onion” does. So I think I’m missing something there, too.
Ugh. I’m a little frustrated, writing this. I’m going to have to reread your comment several times, and really get rid of my “yeah buts,” and “I can’ts” and whatever the hell else gets in the way. I’ve got to figure this stuff out.
I really, really want to kick ass, Chris. Like Bruce Lee. I’m sending you 27 hugs and five cookies.
Sincerely,
Little Megabyte
Thanks for representin’ us writer-types who just wouldn’t mind making a living doing what we love. I think my favorite line of your post was: “I visit bookstores and listen to women my age read poetry about wolves and dolphins and sending up prayers to the Goddess and I feel as out of place as a sardine in a can of Pringles.” I can so relate, my dear. They’re all so sincere and serious; it makes me feel like a shallow prat for going home to watch The Real Housewives or for applying lip gloss in their presence.
BTW, if I was at the conference, I would have come to hear you speak – no cookie needed. I love your blog so much that I am officially adding it to my newly-revised blog (new name, new look) roll page!
I just knew you were a kindred spirit, Cristy. I would have loved it if you’d been in the audience! You could have lip glossed and practiced yoga and watched Real Housewives on your phone– it would’ve been terrific.
I’m so honored to be on your blogroll that it’s made me a little speechless (or type-less). Thank you sooo much. I’m adding yours to mine as well. I’m so remiss on my blog reading these days, that I haven’t even seen your new place. I’ll be stopping by soon, as soon as I buy some Depends, which I find helpful when reading your stuff.
Just enjoyed the post. Nothing to add. Laughed at the thought of my inner sardine.
I love this. Thanks, Roy. I’m so glad you and your inner sardine stopped in!
little megabyte?? lol. Hey, I’m not sure if you were aware of this, but I didn’t get any notification of your response to my first comment, and I don’t have any reply option to it either. Just something for your IT department…lol
If you are bad at self promoting, you have to go the traditional route and start sending out your manuscript and hope somebody is interested.
I read your reply and it would seem you are lost for direction and there is some bit of info overload going on. I think if you separated your ‘must haves’ and ‘like to haves’, you can organize your situation little better. Which is a higher priority? better annual income or landing a creative writing position? Its an important question because it will be signifacantly easier to find one OR the other, but not both at the same time. Lets assume you figured that out and you have decided annual income is the most important. Next question is, at what rate? This is the path I took about 10years ago, and I set my rate at 10% increase in gross revenue every year. Easiest way I got that accomplished was by upgrading my job every year or by getting promotions. I hit the glass ceiling about 3years ago and so I decided to start my own business. My initial small incremental goal was important because thats how I started building my confidence and paving the road for bigger goals. If you get clouded/confused/frustrated trying to go from ‘point A’ to ‘point B’, its implying your point B is too big of a jump and you need an intermediate step. Rethink your path from ‘point A’ to ‘point A(1/2)’ instead. Keep doing this until you can process things that need to get done.
You can go the self publish route but keep in mind you HAVE to be good at self promoting to do well in this. You’ll probably end up spending about $5k for your first publication, but that excludes all the travel expense and promotion expense
Actually, I think it should have been Li’l Megabyte. As for the notification– grrrrrr….I think that’s one of those glitches that occurred when I dot.commed. I’ll contact the WP gods.
I’m glad you came back to hash it out with me a little more, because I felt kind of crummy about my first answer. I’m not trying to be disparaging about other websites. As I said before, just because I don’t get it, doesn’t mean they aren’t valid or important.
You hit the nail on the head. This is all info overload, and you’ve given me some fantastic advice here.
Today, I finished my little book. Finished. Done. Kaput. Now, here’s where the overload comes in. I want to publish it as an e-book to begin with (in fact, I’m calling this The Great E-Book Experiment). I want to Kindle, Nook and iPhone that sucker all over the place, but I’ve been reading up on formatting, and within the first fifteen minutes, my brain puffed up and exploded like campfire marshmallow. So, I’ll have to step away for a while and charge into it again. This time, I’ll try for point A(1/6), and I may end up using Smashwords before it’s all over, which means I’ll end up making very little. But that’s okay. I did it, Chris! When it comes time to publish my “real” book, I’ll probably opt for traditional publishing. At present, $5K may as well be $5GZ (gazillion).
THANK YOU for all of this. It’s helping to expand the way I think about this stuff. I’ll make me “must haves” and “like to haves” list, and see what develops. Big hugs, and several more cookies to you. Ugh. Seriously. Thank you so much.
lol, that is awesome Mb(regular sized Mb)
, but I’m hoping to go back there some day.
Definitely let your fans know when it gets published, I know I’ll be shifting into a full support mode when it does
On a side note, how is Wisconsin these days? You have no idea how much I miss that state and I know they are one of the states thats been hit pretty hard in this bad economy. I still have a property up there because I couldn’t afford to sell it at 50% of what I bought it for
Thanks, Chris– I’m so excited! I’ll definitely be posting on this blog when it’s out.
Um, er…I don’t know how things are in Wisconsin. I’m over 700 miles away. What made you think I lived there?
lol, I could have sworn we talked about something in the past and Wisconsin came up…hahaha. I might have read too much between the lines on that one…lol. I will make the adjustment and reprogram the data field to ’700miles from Wisconsin’..lol
If you publish an ebook, I may have to buy one of those damn gadgets so I can get it. But hey. Follow your star.
Nahhhh…you can read it on your computer. I’ll keep you posted.
@ Kendall Yes I was asked to review a book on Smashwords and so I downloaded and read it on my computer. Wasn’t a bad deal at all
So I’m all set and ready and waiting and soooo excited about your eBook Moonbeam! 
Dearest,
It will take me some time to process and digest all this. You’re a little box full of surprises!!!
Earning money through “jobs” invented that no one needs?! Most of them simply “created” to cheat on people, to persuade them that they need something when in fact they don’t?!
Nope. You were born to write and I thought you had already found out about it. Or that at least someone had told you this before!
I’ll come around again for a better and more complete comment. I’m short of time right now.
lOvE,
C.
I love this comment. It’s another one I’d like to cut and paste and hang on my wall. Thanks, C.
Such a fluid, fun and authentic ringing read. I am delighted to have discovered you. Yes, some, a few are not in it to make a buck, but simply have a need to express themselves. I count myself among them.
[…] choreographed. WordCamp just contacted me about doing another presentation this year (despite last year’s debacle), and I’ve got to get going on that, […]