What Has Writing Done for You?

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What Has Writing Done for You?

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I am shy. If given the option of being that person who goes to parties (or anywhere people I’ve never met before may be milling about), or the one who sits home, alone, wine in one hand, television remote in the other – I’ll take the lonely wine drinking TV addict any day.

Fifty years into this life and I’ve not completely figured out this side of me. I want to be outgoing. But I’m not. I want to stand in a room full of strangers and not quiver in my boots. But I don’t. Or I can’t. Or maybe I just never learned how.

blake When I write, I can be the best version of myself. Not just in fiction, but on my blog too. I share my opinions and feelings, ideas and thoughts, without filter, without interruption. Some might think I share too much, but I’ve found it cathartic. I feel safe in the cyber writing world. No one is sitting across from me, eyeballing me with that questioning look on their face. When I write I don’t feel the need to temper my thoughts to avoid offense. Not that I’m particularly offensive. I have a deep-seated desire to be ‘nice’ after all. Damn Canadian politeness.

I have always had strong opinions, always had great ideas and right answers (no, really!). But I hold back, keep things to myself. There is the fear of being wrong. The fear of rejection. Fear of potential conflict with those who disagree. Fear of looking like an idiot if (when?) I inevitably trip over my tongue and say something stupid.

Clearly the underlying issue is fear, no? Hand me my psych degree, please – nailed that diagnosis!

In the cyber world I am fearless.

This in-the-safety-of-my-own-home, open-vein style of expression is having an unexpected, surprising, confounding, and wonderful effect. I’m opening up in the real world. In the face-to-face world. My cyber courage is spilling over into interactions with people in the flesh.

I’m still shy, but I’m losing the fear. Or at least I’m doing a better job than usual of faking it. But as far as I’ve come, I’ve a long way to go.

So I did something outrageous. Something crazy.

Something brave.

juliebird I signed up to be part of a book signing with 16 other indie authors. In Texas no less – an entire country away. It was “Indie-Vengeance Day” at Half Price Books flagship store in Dallas. I interacted with the authors, hid my intimidation, and soon realized something amazing. There was nothing to be intimidated about! They are all wonderful, and after spending four days with them, I consider them friends.

Once the doors opened, a few readers wandered in. I resolved to engage them all if they approached me. Approach they did. And engage I did! I managed to sell seven books, give away dozens of copies of a booklet with three of my short fiction pieces, and about 50 personalized bookmarks emblazoned with the covers of my two novels.

It was a liberating weekend. I extended my resolve to speak with strangers at Dealey Plaza where I engaged the only conspiracy theorist to brave the rain. Then I chatted up the clerk in the museum gift shop. He admired my Batman wallet. I told him I am Batman’s girlfriend (he just doesn’t know it yet). The clerk shared that he would be Batman for Halloween and would be singing at a party. I asked him to sing for me. And he did! I would never have done that a month ago. It was amazing.

I credit my newfound bravery, this pseudo-confidence that is quickly shaking off the pseudo, to writing. It is more than about telling stories. More than vomiting words onto a page to make room in my brain for more words. It has become therapy. A coping mechanism to deal with long-standing social anxiety. Writing, like my kids, is everything.

What has writing done for you?