Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Naugahyde & Lemmondrops

Sometimes, the onlinez, interwebz, loginzplaces, usernamez, passwerdz, laptoppy computerizationz make me wanna crawl in a hole.

There is only so much of it I can take before I feel like I need to just unplug everything and run down the street naked.

It is so overstimulating.  In the non-computer world, there is only one direction I can travel at any given moment.  My brain focuses on that direction.  Perhaps a bit of the periphery, but not a lot.  I make a decision and go there.  Until it is finished.  And then I make another.  And continue.  Until I get hungry.  Or tired.  Or dirty.  Or bored.  Or horny.  

But online, there are a million different directions.  And everyone says you must travel all of them.  And if you want to do *this*, you must go to this website.  And that one.  And this one.  And another one.  And you must *network*.  And you must be here and there and everywhere.  


Oh shit.  

Wait a minute.  

Hold the fuck on a second. 



Honestly?  The fact that I put my writing here on this blog at all is a huge thing for me.  The fact that it has escaped my notebooks and pencils and made it all the way here.  It's kind of a big deal.  

But did you know?  

What you see here.  And on my other blog.  Yeah.  Not even half.  

Not even half of what I write on a daily basis.  Nope.  

What you see here?  It's mostly the stuff I don't give a shit about.  Someone wants to steal my shit?  Whatever.  Take it.  I don't care.  I have 30 more where that came from.  

I've never been published anywhere.  Ever.   Why?  Because I have never submitted anything.  Ever.  

I'm dead serious.  Never, ever.  I have NEVER submitted anything I have ever written to any publication in any capacity.  

I remember as a kid.  In English class.  I would get so pissed off that I was given "assignments."  And that someone was going to grade me on my passion.  

I would get pissed that I was forced to turn something in.  That I was forced to allow someone to read my writing, and then that fat bitch was going to grade me on it?  

On hell no.  

Uh huh.  

No fucking way.

That is how I feel about submitting my writing anywhere.  I am giving someone something I poured my soul into.  Giving it to them.  My soul and my heart.  I'm just saying, "Here ya go.  Take it.  This is me.  It is now yours."

I can't get over that.  How is that okay?  And yet, "writers" say that I am supposed to do that.  That is the "goal."  It is what all writers want!  To be recognized.  To be petted.  To be told, "you're so wonderful!"

I already know that.

I am sure this is something I need to get over.

Even more than that, I am sure my point of view is totally and completely foreign to every single person who will read this.  None of you will understand.  Because that is how it always is with anything that goes on in my head.  I say those things.  I feel them and say them, and then have 50 different faces staring back at me with dead eyes and drool running down their chins like I just performed a Latin mass in a loin cloth.

Which convinces me that I have probably lost my mind.  Totally lost my mind.

My goal should be to get published.  My goal should be to shove my writing toward anyone who will take it and then beg for their acceptance.   To join this and join that and sign up here and go there and be friends with this person and follow this blog and that blog and be "branded" and get recognized and oh my fucking god please send me to hell now so I can make this all stop.......

And that's where the internet makes it worse.  Because it's all in your face.  Shoved down your throat.  It's a constant thing.  A constant conversation here, there, and everywhere.  How to get published, "self promotion," blah, blah, blah.

Seriously?  I'd rather stay in total obscurity than have to advertise myself.  Advertise what?  That I write?  I've always written.  What do I advertise?  That I am writing a book?  Or do I wait until I have a manuscript?  Why do I care?  So someone will publish it?  Maybe they will, maybe they won't.

I'm just not sure I even care.

I just want to write.


Holy shit, I am so screwed up.

But it's my writing.  They're my words.  It's my soul.  I feel like I'm smacking the fingers of all the little 3-year-old candy-stealers stickin' their hands in my candy bowl.... yet everyone says I am supposed to WANT people to take my writing.  Take it from my bowl.  Tell me you love it.  Tell me it moves you.  Tell me you're inspired.

But that's not why I write.

I write to inspire myself.  To move myself.  To love myself.

My husband and I are buying 2 kayaks next week.  I already have my Garmin Oregon 550, which is only like my favorite toy in the history of ever.

We'll probably never come back.

I'll have a pencil, though.  And some napkins from a truck stop to write on.

Or, I'll hit "publish," go back to my worky job I am supposed to be doing right now, calm down, eat chocolate, feel better, and then start researching the difference between a literary agent and a literary agent like I should be. 

And refucking my plot line so I can finally get myself out of chapter 3.  

Find a writing prompt that stimulates my axillary lymph nodes and write some bullshit to toss into the 3-ring circus that is my computer.

Email my BFF so she can say, "yep... yep.... yep.... exactly...." and make me feel a little less like a retard. 

And then go run a few miles.

It only makes sense that I am just as narcissistic as I should be, or I wouldn't be a writer to begin with, right?

Real quick- My son and I just had a convo about people misinterpreting our writing.  Do you make a habit of explaining yourself when you are misinterpreted, or do you let it go with a smile?  I had a friend one time tell me to never explain myself, as it takes away from my allure.  Yes or no?  He was probably just trying to get in my pants.  My friend, not my kid.

Oh god.

I need a vacay.  



  1. Just because you write doesn't mean you should want to be published. I go running but it doesn't mean I want to do it competitively, I just do it because I enjoy it and want to keep my body in good nick. Your brain is a muscle and writing helps keep it stimulated and active. And if other people are interested in what you want to say then there is no harm sticking your thoughts in a blog, it always gives me a buzz to know people read my stuff. However if you want to run down the street naked then go right ahead, just make sure you post some pictures.

  2. I think that is my problem. I think I secretly want to be published for the validation. Isn't that why anyone wants to be published? For validation? I need to run races for validation. So that someone else will say that I exist. That I am here. That I did something significant. Because, otherwise, I might just float away. If I leave this life and at least one person says, "Yes, I knew her. She did things. She said things. She made things happen" then maybe it will be worth it. Ranting, raving, bitching, pissing, moaning, and then shutting up and getting back to work. That's what we do. I think so. Yes. It's what we do.

  3. Writing for yourself for the art and the freedom and self-expression is more than valid, it is pure and free and I admire you for doing it and speaking out about it!

  4. @Deus: A good point, we all want validation from our peers in some way, shape or form. When I started blogging I didn't read other peoples for about a year and just updated once a month and put it on Facebook. So durin this period I had no followers. Then I started reading and commenting on other blogs and I got my first follower. Then I became a bit obsessed by getting as many followers as I could. But I soon calmed down and took interest in certain people and what they had to say and realised that trying to make my audience as large as possible is a foolish endeavour that will never have an end if I let it keep it's grip.
    What I'm trying to say is that the people whose blogs I read are interested in what I write is validation in itself, anything else is just a numbers game.

  5. Tony- That's pretty much exactly what I did. I started my other blog in 2008. I don't think I had a single comment for 2 years or so. That's when I started sticking my feelers into the "blogging community." It was the weirdest thing in the world having people I didn't know reading my junk. And then commenting on it. I just don't have the patience or the time to have a huge blogging social circle. I have a small handful of blogs I read regularly, sometimes I add, sometimes subtract, but I have to keep it manageable or I'd go nuts. And frankly (and I am quietly sticking this opinion way down here), most of the "writer blogs" with prose/poetry are fucking awful. Most people couldn't write their way out of a fucking paper bag. I'm not wasting my time on shitty writers just to be in the cool kids group. I'd much rather read a 3-page account of someone's work day with the word "fuck" peppered all over the place than read elementary prose by someone whose momma told them they were a superstar since the day they were born.

  6. Deus: I'm glad it wasn't just me that started like that. to be honest I just enjoyed the act of writing of for the sake of it but it was great when other people actually read it. As for the amateur writing crowd I read a lot of their blogs and feel like a shit for saying this but it is a bit like a creative writing class all wanking each other off over how good their stuff is. But most of the time it is young adult stuff about time-travelling vampires from outer space or some such fucking blather. Everybody wants to be J.K.Rowling.

  7. "Wanking each other off." Exactly.