Days ago, I was closing my Facebook account, deleting Twitter, and shutting down this newly revamped non-crashing blog because some days, most days actually, it’s just too much for one tired and frustrated human to handle.
Hard to be funny, find the light in the darkness, create satire and prose and commentary when life throws up a roadblock or two, or just sends you in circles like Chevy Chase in European Vacation. “Look kids, Big Ben,” is only funny from afar, not when you’re stuck in a roundabout looking for an exit.
And the countdown to election 2016 with pussy grabbing Trump only adds fury to this very angry woman.
Last weekend, I attended BinderCon NYC, a writing conference for women and gender non-conforming writers, and really suffered from pronoun fatigue, but left stronger in some ways, defeated in others. I was part of the older crowd there, not quite sure how that happened, but it did and it showed, but that didn’t bug me or hinder goals, just left me with the difficult job of breaking into the cool kid tables for lunch, but hey, I’ve been doing that my entire life.
There is just so much talent out there, so many writers, so many stories to tell, and so many places to submit. It’s a really big funnel with a really small hole and maybe that’s too feminine or masculine or non-conforming of a metaphor but for fuck’s sake, somedays, like maybe yesterday, I just want to quit and become a lunch lady.
FYI: that’s not a derogatory slam; I really want to become a lunch lady and mingle with the kids and be a friendly face in the chaos which is adolescence, then be able to punch out at the end of my shift and not worry about bringing any sad or struggling kids home to live in my basement. Unless of course, they really wanted to.
So lunch ladies, hats off to ya, and thanks for sharing the love.
Instead of deleting Facebook, Twitter, or throwing my phone against a cement wall so it breaks in half revealing all its iblood and i-innards (actually, that may/may not have occurred, quite possibly prohibiting me from ever working in a school setting anytime anywhere ever), I did a complete turnabout and committed to publishing one blog post a day for the month of November. Starting yesterday.
This is similar to NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) where writers write 50,000 words in 30 days which I would also like to try someday but not this day. What I’m attempting is NaBloPoGoMoPhoSchmo (National Blogging …. I dunno, something or another. I’m making that up but something like it does exist. Give it a google.)
Of which, this is day 2.
It’s self-discipline. My self-imposed daily writing prompt. Both torture and reward, potentially both a colossal success and utter failure. Never did this before, but giving it my best shot.
Attending this conference with amazing writers, novelists, and journalists both exposed me as a poser, and surrounded me with binders of multi-generational, smart talented writers.
Got my monies worth in the opening keynote where writer, thinker, novelist, feminist Anna Quindlen said shared a casual, frank, generous conversation with BinderCon co-founder extraordinaire Leigh Stein:
“Writing is nothing but a constant exercise in confidence.”
“Effortless perfection doesn’t exist.”
“I will do anything to not write. I hate it. Don’t we all?”
“We’re kinda all here because of Mitt Romney.”
“Connect with just one person, and you’ve earned your place on this planet.”
Last one is my fav.
Listen to some Anna Quindlen wisdom here, and then you’ll know why I’m going to just keep writing, and maybe you will too:
Do you ever want to quit, but instead, jump in head first? Or is that just me?
This is FABULOUS! Yes, there is great talent out there, and one of them is YOU!!
I try to surround myself with smart generous women and with any luck, some of the brilliance rubs off on me and if not, at least i tried. Thanks for letting me mooch off your light whenever possible!
You can do this! Keep on blogging 🙂
Will do! Just keep reading!
Robin B K
Yeah, writing, designing, art-ing, etc. it’s more of a way of existence than a choice. Can’t quit even if we try.
If you weren’t doing it here, you’d be doing it in your head, on napkins, the countertop, journals, the steamy shower walls …
Glad for the turnabout so we still get to see and hear. It’s needed.
Also, the lunch room rules. I did middle school and boy do I miss it. Thinking of going back even though my kid’s moved on 😉
you would be an awesome lunch lady!?
I was so sorry to have to miss Binder Con. I had a ticket but couldn’t go. Finding housing before the closing date on our house is priority! Glad you had a good time but I would have loved to meet you! Thanks for catching me up on what you’re doing! Good luck with it all.
Cathy I follow you on many social media outlets, and your advocacy and compassion is incomparable. Can’t wait to meet in person one day soon!
I’m really moved by this post. Most of us are there at one point or another for one reason or another. Your resolve to push through is inspiring. You’ve got this!
Thanks for reading, connecting, and words of support! By writing I’m going to do it, holds me accountable. Sure gonna try to stay true!
Thanks — time will tell!
yes, yes & yes. I don’t even consider myself a writer. I admire you for taking that 30 day challenge. Your honesty is refreshing and makes me not feel so alone on the journey today. Thanks.
Here’s my theory: if we throw enough spaghetti at the wall, something’s gotta stick. Ditto with words on a page.
I haven’t a clue what kind of writing blogging is, but its hard work. Its often work without reward other than self expression, that’s why your favorite quote is mine too. We write to connect.
Thanks for connecting!!
This hits me right in the feels, Kathryn.
Ive been disorganized, unfocused (totally blaming it on self-diagnosed peri-menopause and thyroid issues and likely the full moon waning or waxing or mooning or whatever).
My blog has suffered and while I can’t bear the idea of quitting I feel like I’ve lost my funny.
So of course I signed up for Nablaghschlomopomommo.
I’ll be here cheering you on, eating my kids’ Halloween candy.
you haven’t lost your funny; it just buried. give it time (and maybe a cocktail), it’ll be back!