The Jury Is In
The following is Part II of “My Love/Hate Romance with Writing.” You can read Part I HERE.
On the very last day of the Roanoke Times columnist submission deadline, I sent in the requested three samples of writing. I was still ambivalent, but rather than not submit at all, I decided to lower expectations by sending one essay that I felt was my best work and two other average pieces. I thought if the paper liked my informal everyday voice the pressure on me would be lessened, but I also realized that applying half-heartedly smacked of self-sabotage.
It took me three weeks to decide to submit, and then three more before I heard back from the editor. During that time, I tried to sort out which part of my resistance was an upper-limits reaction and which part was realistic self-acceptance. After much pondering and counsel with friends, I concluded that it was a combination of both.
Although my husband and a few close friends knew that my comfort zone was being rattled, mostly I kept it to myself as I went about my normal business. During that time the only hint about what was going on that I let slip out on my blog was more of a self-affirmation than a weblog entry and went like this: It takes me twice as long to write for business than it does to write for fun, which is why I try to make fun my business and my business fun.
In early February I received a congratulatory note saying that I had made it through the first round of the selection process. I was flattered, but my hands began to shake. My worst fear was that I might be asked to do a column and would find that I had nothing to say. So, in the next couple of weeks I began drafting what I jokingly called my “acceptance speech.”
Most days, I felt sure that I didn’t want the position. I complained to my husband that the stress it would create would “ruin my life.” Even so, I strived to be comfortable with the idea of rising to the occasion if I was picked. I knew I was capable of doing such a column if I could just adjust my thinking about it. I wondered about the modest pay it promised, referred to by the editor as “diddley.” If it was more substantial, would I be more motivated? But money was not the issue. I was doing part-time respite care for the agency I used to work full time for, and selling freelanced writing here and there. Knowing that my writer’s muse was as fickle as a cat already well fed was my biggest concern. To be paid any amount of money for something I hadn’t yet written made me want to bite my fingernails.
After a total of two months of my “she loves me, she loves me not” flirtation with the Roanoke Times, it came to an end when I faint-heartedly scanned my email for the editor’s name and found this from him: “I would like to thank you for your submission and your interest. Unfortunately, you did not make the final cut.”
I called my close friend and fellow writer, Alwyn, because she was the one who asked each time we spoke, “Have you heard yet?”
“But you really did know what you wanted,” she said when I told her. “The next time a similar opportunity presents itself, you’ll be more ready because of this,” she went on to wisely suggest.
Ironically, as a blogger, I was already writing and posting column-sized entries several times a week. Being one who hates to waste the fruits of my own labor, several days after learning that I was not one of the new Roanoke Times columnists, I posted a version of the above mentioned “acceptance speech” on my blog. It was an essay about a belated New Year’s Resolution, an overview of my recent writer’s lifestyle, meant to be a possible column introduction. At least four of my regular readers commented that while reading it they worried that I was announcing my retirement from blogging. The opposite was true. If I had gotten the columnist position, my blogging time would have been severely cut back.
After reading the emailed rejection slip from the editor, I did feel some disappointment, but mostly I felt like I had received a “get out of school early” card. Although the paradoxical theme in my life of wanting to be heard and left alone at the same time would not be resolved anytime soon, I breathed easier knowing that nothing new or difficult would be asked of me. I wanted to retreat to my bedroom with a cup of tea and a People magazine to either withdraw or celebrate. I imagined that some of the shyest actors nominated for Academy Awards might be relieved not to win and not have to face the podium where they would be expected to deliver a witty speech as millions looked on.
The good news in all of this was that I made it as far as I did, and ultimately, I didn’t get a flat out rejection from the paper. Like all the first round finalists (45 people out of 145 who submitted) I was told to keep my eyes posted for future emails because I might be called on to contribute something at a later date.
I did head for the bedroom, but not with a People magazine. I went with my notebook to write. I knew from experience that when the ups and downs of my life settle back into place there’s usually a good story left to tell, something the writer in me has never been able to resist.
Post note: More on this subject HERE.
March 18th, 2007 8:17 pm
Well they just don’t know what they lost do they? It probably really did work out for the best….next time you’ll be more sure. And we certainly didn’t want to lose you here.
March 18th, 2007 11:10 pm
I truly believe in fate. This was not the one meant for you. You learn from every experience. So you’ll be ready for the next one!
Here via Michele.
March 19th, 2007 12:05 am
The next time might be the charm, Colleen! And no, we DON’T want to lose you here.
March 19th, 2007 7:47 am
I know how disappointed you must be because I know you love to write and I think I can relate a bit to this whole experience of yours. As independent and as talented as one may be, I think when things such as this present themselves it is almost an overwhelming temptation to submit ourselves to the ‘jury’.
I know, like you, that I have often contemplated entering the race, but have some doubts about whether my talents will prevail, but full well knowing that if they do….I may really desire that confirmation of my talent by winning the trophy – but not the responsibilities that may go with the honor. Something you yourself mentioned previously.
I think that perhaps for me in these situations I tend to justify the “fact” that I am independent and my talents run free, whatever their worth, so they don’t fall under the influence of some entitiy or person that may exert influence that changes who I am.
March 19th, 2007 7:53 am
I’m glad the unknowing is finally over. It can be disconcerting not knowing how you life might change and how you’ll adjust. This would be stressful for me and affect health, and might be a little for you, too. Now you can relax. We’re still here to be an attentive audience for your writing!
I actually think that you’ll like it more if just the odd article comes up for you to write.
March 19th, 2007 9:06 am
At least you made it through the first round! And you in that hat cracks me up. 🙂
March 19th, 2007 9:42 am
I can hear the sigh of relief from here…
“Better luck next time” seems inappropriate, as it seems to me you really did not want this, were never really excited about it, admittedly ambivalent.
So I echo the sentiment ‘it was meant to be, everything happens for a reason’ etc.
Enjoy once again not having a deadline!
March 19th, 2007 9:56 am
Well, I just finished writing a 900 word piece for the paper in one day about our St. Patrick’s Day Spoken Word Open Mic. The day before I had no idea I would write it. That’s how it works for me. ( If I went to the cafe with the idea I was going to write a piece, it wouldn’t have been as much fun. I never know what I’m going to say next and that’s why I keep writing. I like to be surprised too!) Plus, I just got a 5 day overnight respite-care gig, so I’m feeling pretty supported.
March 19th, 2007 11:00 am
I can so understand the back and forth of I want it, but do I really want it. And, my life will look so much different and do I want that?!?! I am in my own decision making process. And, doesn’t it make your head spin?
Enjoy your tea!
March 19th, 2007 11:02 am
I’m drinking tea now! (Everything goes down easier with tea.) I even did some tarot spreads over this decision.
March 19th, 2007 11:06 am
colleen- oh how i can relate! sometimes i think i sabotage myself….
but, reitterating what others have said, there is a time and purpose for everything…. we WOULD miss you tremendously here in blogland if you had to cut back, and like ruth said, also- it seemed your heart wasn’t totally in it either way. i’m glad to hear the “update”…..
March 19th, 2007 11:40 am
the paradoxical theme in my life of wanting to be heard and left alone at the same time
Hoo, boy, does this sound familiar. I struggle with this a lot.
Sounds like things worked out exactly as they needed to, for you and for all of us who would miss you if you had to cut down.
March 19th, 2007 11:51 am
Ah, well, the newspaper’s loss.
Our gain here at your blog.
I, too, believe everything happens for a reason. I think something even better will present itself to you and you will be ready to be open to it without reservation, or much anyway!
March 19th, 2007 3:03 pm
For sure, it’s prep for the next time. Glad you put yourself out there.
March 19th, 2007 4:53 pm
The universe has spoken. 🙂
I, for one, am glad I won’t be deprived of your blogs and I am happy you won’t have any pressure to be more conservative.
There are lots of stories left for you to tell and lots of places to tell them…it will all unfold in the perfect way!
Hugs for the part of you that was wanting the position!
Susan
March 19th, 2007 8:17 pm
Thank god for small favors…I too was beginning to think I was hearing a goodbye in those last posts. How in the world would the day go by without the vicarious virtual visits to the cosmopolitan life of uptown Floyd? No more Scrabble? No recaps from the spoken word?
Kidding aside Colleen, I visit here almost daily for those little word bombs you throw out to liven the day. I feel the need to become the old double mask from the Greek theater, one side smiling one side sad…But I hear your ambivalence, so the happy wins out. This time anyway. If you keep throwing the words out here, we will all keep coming by for a visit.
And better luck next time…if you really want it.
March 19th, 2007 10:47 pm
I soooo understand the ambivilance of this “happening”…I personally think they made a BIG mistake, not choosing you, but, on the other hand, it means you will not have to curtail your blogging! For those of us who look so forward to the revelations of your heart and mind—THIS is good news! No, let me amend that—This Is GREAT News!
March 20th, 2007 7:23 am
I do so very much relate to what you have written. Not so much in the direction of the writing craft as much as to what you wrote —> “the paradoxical theme in my life of wanting to be heard and left alone.”
As you know I have not been doing my blog. Thankfully it has freed me from what I began to feel was an obligation. I still need to be heard and I still love the written word, even though I’ve miles to go to be able to say, “I can do it well.”
Not “having to” do my blog; a kind of compulsion to say what had yet to be said and to do it differently than others, has given me more time to be who I really am. But what’s that?
Opportunities have arisen for me to send out into the world what I love; ie, my other favorite endeavor, rug making.
For example: Three friends have asked me to teach in their home (one new student and two older ones). I jumped at the chance because it would be a notch on my belt in the never ending desire to someday own my own rug shop. What I’m discovering is that although I want this; I’d rather like to get to that place without the pressure of performing as a teacher. Can’t I just enjoy my love of color and wool without putting myself on display?
I almost didn’t take the money they offered; afterall, I’m just a person who knows how to make rugs. I’m reluctant to be more and yet I suspect I have to show this side of myself too in order to grow into more than who I already am.
A paradox indeed. We both know we are good at what we do. We both know too that in order to get to where we want to be, we must show ourselves and become as good as those whom we admire in our given crafts. It is that that is both troubling and wonderfully fulfilling.
I’m working to get over this. You are too. There will always be one more entry/story/book for you to write and one more rug for me to make.
March 20th, 2007 8:55 am
Must be in the genes. I think it’s part of our Irish Catholic inheritence. The Irish (as a people and in general) are a paradoxial people, shy yet so expressive. If you went to Ireland you would see what I mean and this is what I mean when I say going to Ireland was worth 10 years of therapy, because I saw us in them. They could have been our aunts, uncles, and cousins.
March 20th, 2007 10:36 am
Colleen, sorry to keep talking about this book I’m reading but it is making me realize so much about WHY I’m the way I am. “Shy yet so expressive” fits me to a T and also learned that the Irish(Scottish) were often storytellers, poets, artists, spiritual seekers…all those things that draw me. AND they loved walking in the hills and this is the topography that draws me most…hills.
Well, a bit of a tangent but now I’ll start thinking of my future trip to Ireland as “therapy” and that will be one more reason to make it happen soon! 😉
Susan
March 20th, 2007 11:33 am
Susan, Here’s a link to a post where I talk more about the shy/expressive Irish. http://looseleafnotes.com/notes/2005/04/the_cursed_luck_of_the_irish.html#comments I have an Irish post coming up soon about our spoken word night, which was held on St. Patrick’s Day this year.
March 20th, 2007 4:38 pm
I can’t figure out if you are sad or relieved… probably both. A door shuts a window opens. If you see a window anywhere, let me know. My doors have been shut and seemingly locked for some time now and we are going to go critical here soon.
March 20th, 2007 5:27 pm
“…the paradoxical theme in my life of wanting to be heard and left alone at the same time…”
I am, like, totally framing this quote. Maybe even putting it on my tombstone.
I can appreciate your struggle between wanting more opportunity to write but not necessarily more obligation!
March 21st, 2007 11:07 pm
I love your line, “paradoxical theme in my life of wanting to be heard and left alone at the same time”. To this.. I can so relate.
March 21st, 2007 11:29 pm
I’m glad you’re still blogging, but I’m sorry for your disappointment. Our local paper has the worst columnist… she writes stupid articles about the clicky people in her neighborhood! Consider the source of your ‘rejection’!!
March 28th, 2007 11:05 am
Congrats to you for placing as a finalist!
And my opinion is…as always, things work out EXactly as they’re supposed to. As a writer, rejections often become a path to other things.