“Our greatest growth spurts happen when we are children risking and daring and falling down and embarrassing ourselves.” – Steve Chandler, Time Warrior
If you met me in person, you’d realize that I don’t have a lot to say. It’s not that the thoughts aren’t there. It’s just that they won’t come out of my mouth. Typically, it’s because you’re not interested in whatever’s on my mind, or more aptly put, I don’t believe you’re interested in whatever’s on my mind.
I might be right. I might be wrong. But you know what usually happens? People think I’m boring. People think I’m shy. People think I’m arrogant.
Of course I think those things about myself some of the time, and some of the time, I am being those things (*gasp*). Still, I don’t want to be boring. I don’t want to be shy. I don’t want to be arrogant.
It’s just the comfortable actions and reactions of an introvert.
Yesterday’s post was an example of me attempting to face this particular fear. I had several moments of indecision about the title of that story, because I’m normally not one to curse or be “crude” in polite company (outside of stubbing my toe on one of Angus’s toys for umpteenth time — then I’ll make the saltiest sailor blush).
This post is a continuation of facing that fear, admitting that I felt ambivalent over the post. I believed that title illustrated the levity with which the characters viewed the subject. Not sure if that came across, but I was willing to take the risk.
I’m human. No shining example of propriety. I often find things funny that some people find abhorrent or offensive, and others have laughed at things that I find wrong. That’s just the nature of humor. Who can explain it?
I’m learning that to be a good writer, I have to stop worrying about being appropriate. It kills the creative mind and it’s a losing battle — in the end, there is no final arbiter outside of your own mind regarding appropriateness. You have to accept that you may upset those whose opinions you value. It’s the only way to move forward. Ask anyone who’s ever done anything worth a damn and I’d bet dollars to donuts that they didn’t operate on fear.
You can be nice. You can even try to explain yourself if it matters that much to you. But don’t regret making that decision. Don’t stop facing down those fears.
In other news: Game of Thrones is back for its seventh season. My amazing wife had surprise GoT-themed cookies baked for me. I’ll post pictures this week. The sad feeling of destroying such beautiful things was quickly replaced by lots of “mmmms.”
Also, it’s an odd thing, watching a television show based on a series of books, in which neither has reached its end. Paths have diverged here and there based on character emphasis, character choices, and character deaths. I’d be lying if I said I was through waiting for George and his publisher to put out the next book, but I’m as anxious as anyone.
* Image courtesy of Max Pixel