I attended my first Writer’s Digest Conference this past weekend in New York City. It was an interesting mix of topics ranging from improving your craft to branding and more. Lots of options for newbies and veterans alike.
I noticed a recurring theme with the variety of sessions that I attended. Writers were consistent in their suggestion to the audience members to “find your own voice”, be authentic, use your personal experiences to filter through your writing. The business end was more cautious – be authentic but not so much that you lose market share. Sigh…mixed messages. Be authentic…..BUT…..everyone knows anything after BUT is bullshit. Guess I’ll just keep offending people and not make money writing for now….double sigh.
One workshop was titled “Shut Your Monkey! How to Control Your Inner Critic and Get More Writing Done.” It was facilitated by Danny Gregory. He wrote a book about it in case you are so inclined….https://www.amazon.com/Shut-Your-Monkey-Control-Critic/dp/1440341133
It was an interesting topic which sadly afflicts a majority of humans. That inner voice that says you suck, you’re stupid, are you really going to eat that? The asshole that lives inside your head and spreads doubt like pixie dust in a Disney movie. Apparently most humans (except psychopaths) have this negative voice that we constantly shush. Danny Gregory calls his a monkey…..I prefer to think of mine as a prairie dog. I never know where that bitch is going to pop up. She’s kind of cute and kind of annoying and damn unpredictable. What’s your monkey?
Lately I’ve been obsessed with numbers – weight, age, finances and the big one, the blog related likes, views and comments. I don’t even math well so I’m not entirely in love with this obsession. I have to constantly give myself pep talks about the various numbers in my life.
The weight number, ugh. I don’t weigh the same as I did when I was 22, primarily because …..I am no longer 22. I know, duh, but I still obsess over the scale. Truth be told I have a one way abusive relationship with this apparatus. I weigh myself a few times a week….here are some of the conversations I had with the scale over the past several days: “Are you fucking kidding?!” “Yes!!!!!” and silent treatment with a defiant middle finger aimed at the scale display. It’s not pretty but it’s honest.
Age yeah I know….it’s just a number right? Wrong. It’s a marker of time which pushes the needle closer to our own demise. I’m a realist folks and I’ve been a hospice volunteer for nearly 10 years….we are all going to die. That ascending number is a reminder, I have less time than I did a year ago. I know, depressing as hell, let’s move on.
Finances, well I leave most of that worry to my husband. Calm down he isn’t in charge because he is a man….he’s in charge because he is the most qualified one in the house. Before kids, I was a career gal, bought my own house, researched my 401K options…now not so much. I do have a small business that I run but honestly the numbers are so small at this point it isn’t a big deal.
The blog numbers….these are the greatest obsession of the moment. How many likes versus how many views. I lose my mind when the orange light is on – a comment, gasp, heart beats faster….I’m embarrassed to admit it. I tell myself that writing is cathartic, I do it for me, to tell my stories. That is true but I still want people to read the stories.
So…..if you have taken a moment to view, share, comment or like this post (or any of them), thank you!