Thursday, October 05, 2006
leaving the light on
I don't normally take my writer anywhere. When I step out the door I am no longer a writer. I leave that skin in my house. And I don't think I wear it here on my blog that often either. If I do, I'm usually standing outside looking in. writing is what I do; it's not who I am. Often I go a year or two without wearing the writer skin socially or in public, and if I do it's only for an hour or two. I tend to hang out with people who aren't writers, and if I meet someone for the first time my job often doesn't even come up. I don't even think about it. I think this is why I have such a hard time at conferences. Suddenly I am a writer. All day long. It's a very, very strange and surreal feeling, but stranger still is my own psychological reaction to the whole thing. I don't understand it. when I leave the house, I don't want to think about writing. I want to shed that. If someone mentions one of my books, I'm startled. I have to give myself a mental shake and remember that, Oh yeah, that's something I do when I'm in this certain place. That's right. I have a friend who likes to tell people I'm a writer when we are out in public. I know she thinks she's doing me a favor, but I've had to ask her to please stop. All of this really hit me after getting back from bouchercon. I felt a weight had been lifted. Suddenly I could shed that writer skin and welcome myself back. Not that I'm any different when I'm wearing the skin. That's what's so confusing. It's just some blinking light that's usually off when I leave the house. And having it on makes me feel confused and scattered. It's like something else I have to keep track of when I'd rather just leave it at home. raise your hand if you're confused.