Going out on a limb

September 15, 2011

I have a confession to make.  I’ve only shared this with a few people so far, but I’m ready to tell everyone now.  I need to clear the air.  See, recently I did something completely out of character for me.  I went out on a limb.  A shaky limb in a brittle tree.  Why, you ask?  Well, I’ll tell you.  My sister, the older one, called me awhile back and told me the local newspaper was looking for community columnists to contribute to the paper.  This person would need to write a column with a local feel to be published about once a month or so.  I’ve read these before.  I know a couple of the people who already contribute and I like to read what they have to say.  I thought about it for a while and then filed it in the dark recesses of my mind.  That is until my sister, the older one, sent me an email and practically threatened me if I did not apply.  Boy, is she persistent.  I knew the only way to get her off my back was to go ahead and answer the ad.  I figured I would write up my personal information, attach my sample writing in 400 words or less and hit the send button and be done with it.  Once I hit the send button I opened up my Facebook page, sent that older sister a one word message of “Done” and hit the Reply button.  That was that.  Over.  Done.

Today I found out I’ve been accepted.  Aaacckk!!!!   What do I know about writing a column for the newspaper?  I mean, just because I have a degree in journalism (I’ve never used), doesn’t mean I know anything about writing or newspapers.  Geez, what I have done?   Now I have to come up with ideas, write them out in a way people will want to read, and then publish my words in a public newspaper.  You know what this does?  This opens me up to criticism from people I don’t even know.  No one enjoys being criticized (insert frowny face here). 

Coming up with idea will be the hardest part for me. Once I have an idea I can usually pound something out, but it’s coming up with that initial concept that kills me.  I was the one in school who would turn in a blank paper just out of protest because I couldn’t think of a single idea. (Please don’t tell my son I said that *I don’t know where he gets it*).

In preparation for the possibility of being accepted, I have been bouncing some story ideas around in my head.  I have an idea about being orphaned as an adult and the experience of cleaning out my parents’ house.  Then, I have another idea about the eccentric people in my life and how my parents taught me tolerance for them through non-verbal communication.  Action is louder than words, etc. etc.  Speaking of words, I’m also compiling a list of words and phrases I want evicted from the English language.  Words like yu… well, I can’t waste that here.  I might need it for later.

But what will happen to my blog?  I can’t waste my ideas on my blog if I have to use them to meet a deadline.  I might go dry.  Oh, there’s another idea…why I had writer’s block for over a decade.  That’s not a very happy story, one I’m really ashamed of actually, so I might not go into that.  

I also have to tone down my emotions for the paper.  People in the general public don’t want to read about the spiritual revelations I receive in my life.  They don’t want to cry.  They don’t want their salty tears to fall into their coffee or seep through the paper and make the ink run.  It will be all my fault they can’t read the crime report on the other side of the page.

So what do I want to accomplish with the newspaper thing?  I don’t really know, but I think I just want the experience.  The more I write the better I will get, and then one day maybe I can write that novel all writers want to write.  HA! A novel.  I can’t even make up imaginary names for people in a story I’ve been playing with as sort of a tribute to someone, much less come up with a riveting plot and dialogue.  Ultimately, I hope my column doesn’t become my own version of Seinfeld, a column about nothing. 

Oooh, here’s another idea.  I’ll write a whole column about a pesky older sister who likes to intimidate her younger sister into stepping out onto a shaky limb in a brittle tree and taking a risk that might just make her a happier, better person.  It will be like first grade all over again.  Now, THAT’s another story…