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Insecure writers' support group

I normally use the first Wednesday of the month to bitch about how little time I have to write; how my husband gobbles up every spare second; how my children are a couple of basket cases. I'm changing things up today.

Thankyous are in order

I was a little bitter -- massive understatement -- following my departure from newspapers in 2009. In fact I gave writing up for nearly a year out of sadness and revolt that everything I'd worked for disintegrated in the flames of economic ruin -- that my industry purged me and thousands more like me for shiny new models with Internet prowess and video skills. (If they'd told us in college that paper would someday accommodate moving pictures, we'd have taken video classes.)

I wallowed perhaps more than the average person is allocated time to be mopey, but my need to feel a notch above slothish eventually got the better of me, and I reunited with my special pen and spiral notebook. There are benefits to not being chained to a newspaper -- I'm allowed to have an opinion and there's no editor saying "you made that word up."

Writing is a lonely endeavor except in that moment you share your work -- that terrifying, painful, vomit-inducing moment in which you open yourself to ridicule. Reporting the news feels safer, because you're arranging facts in a 12-inch box.

Sharing these bits of myself -- my epic failures in every stage of life -- is always a little nerve wracking. Did I take that too far; did I not go far enough? Will my children lose friends over this; will I lose friends over this? It's always a bit of a crap shoot, but so far my readers have been unexpectedly kind and tolerant.

My decision to blog was a hard one -- a sort of moral dilemma, because I blamed the blogosphere for elbowing me out of journalism when in fact I wasn't all that happy in my final year of reporting anyway. I was more scared than anything that people wouldn't read my stuff or -- worse -- they'd hate it and burn down my house to avenge the minutes they lost on my shitty prose.

Thank you -- thank you for reading; thank you for commenting; thank you for following; and THANK YOU for not burning my house down or calling the cops over my numerous parenting failures.


* The Insecure Writer's Support Group: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Comments

  1. I wonder if a poll were taken how many people would say theis college education was relevant to their work???

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  2. Hang in there...times are tougher than they have been for years. Find a freelance writing niche and fill it. You've got talent...gobs of it, don't be so hard on yourself.

    BTW, I stopped in from #IWSG based on your blog title. I love it! My blog sign off is, "Wake me later, I'm napping..."

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    1. Thanks for following -- thanks for the encouragement. I always look forward to IWSG, because it means I'll get comments from other bloggers. Thanks again, Alexis

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  3. There were times when I'd given up on writing too but there was always that deep desire inside of me to do it again. I love to write and it's an outlet for me. I'm so glad to have discovered IWSG. It's nice to have a, sort of, support group. :)

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  4. I don't comment as much as I should, but I love reading your posts. They're hilarious and relatable. (Shut up, Firefox spell check. It's a word.) You have the cojones to talk about things that I'm too chicken to talk about on the net, including my own hubby and kids, and do it a spectacularly entertaining fashion. So while we're doling out thanks, thank you for this blog.

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  5. THANK YOU -- I guess this is my attitude adjustment module. If I can make bad luck and impulsive decisions into something funny; I will survive the consequences of aforementioned bad luck and impulsive decisions. I enjoy reading your blog as well -- it's good to know there are other people out there with the same goals and struggles, and they're not in straight jackets. It gives me hope.

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