Recently, when at my downtown (Panera) office, I met a prospective client. It happens often: I’m starved for human contact, so I leave the lonely work-at-home abyss, and end up getting more work from Panera than I ever do on LinkedIn. A quick intro from a soccer dad, swim mom – and waa-laa!
“So, where can I see your stuff? What you’ve written? Where can I find you?”
Well, right here in my handy-dandy 1980s black artist portfolio!! Let me just get it out of the trunk of my car, under the protest signs, jocks, water bottles, blankets, wet towels, empty coffee cups, bikini bottoms???? (not to self: major birth-control refresher ASAP for Kids 1, 2, 3 but please, please, please Darwin, no-way, no-how, not Kid4)
“It’s right here … just give me a minute,” I say, wiping spilled Gatorade from the cover.
“Oh! And I’ll send you a few links. And a couple PDFs, if not too large. And then there’s this blog I write … but, you might not be interested because I curse. And apparently that’s offensive. Does cursing piss you off? How about gun violence? I write a lot about guns cuz, well, you know. Or not (air quotes) “about guns” really, but how to perhaps – it’s just an idea, let’s not get crazy – discontinue the rampant display of open-carry weapons of mass destruction in our local Target. I dunno, it’s just an idea.”
So it goes.
But the days of portfolio review on the trunk of the car in the Stop ‘n Shop plaza outside Panera are over. Cue Fat Lady.
People, I’m putting on my big girl undies.
Vanita Cyril, the brains behind The Strategic Mama, is an invisible friend, an original follower and fan of my writing from waaaayyyyy back, and a constant cheerleader from the webiverse. She’s patient, kind, smart, and affordable. She’s been begging to build me a site for YEARS, get on WordPress and grow the fuck up. (My fuck not hers.)
“You’re a kick-ass writer, mama,” she said. “Your site needs to be as well.”
The time has come.
Vanita’s gonna build me a one-stop-blogorama kingdom where I will use my real name – all of them – to write, advocate, share work samples, and still poke fun and tell stories of my kids, my rather attractive husband, my family, and my town.
My writing, purpose, and being has evolved and changed, and well, isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? Isn’t it in the handbook somewhere – What to Expect When Growing Older?
My intentions remain true: to connect people through stories to build kinder, safer communities. I’ve set some pretty ambitious goals for the next couple years, and I’m counting on you to help make them happen. Whaddya say, come with?