So. If you are…
…one of my followers on Twitter,
someone considering following me on Twitter,
or someone considering joining Twitter and then following me…
…I feel it’s only fair to let you know what you’ve gotten / what you’re getting yourself into. You see, sometimes, on Twitter, it starts out simple. Like a conversation with a fellow Twitterer named Kris (@PrettyAllTrue) about the innocent and vital-for-survival-of-human-species activity of typo correction. The beginning of the end might start out thusly:
Dearly beloved, that’s really all it takes to trigger a certain switch in my brain. That switch is labeled “Filters Off, Engines On, Shenanigans Go, BANGERANG.” Eyes widen and glaze over. The fingers twitch. The maniacal grin tugs at one corner of the mouth. And then this happens:
By now, the fingers are no longer typing. They are dive-bombing the keyboard. The maniacal grin spreads to cover the face as the kamikaze fingers drop payloads of ridiculousness into the computer:
Somebody, Please, Stop Me Whatever You Do, Don’t Stop Me
Further banter ensues, and I quip a we’ll-always-have-Paris-esque line about having my booty-gouty, and Kris giggles and calls that a comfort. I’m pretty far gone by now, and the image of a booty-gouty Snuggie pops into my head. It pushes me over the edge.
Why? Why, wherefore, and howso? Nobody knows. But the reasons don’t matter. The important thing is that there is now booty-gouty in the world. Can I get an amen? TESTIFY!
ODE TO THE BOOTY-GOUTY*
by Courtney Cantrell
If your booty is so gouty
you can’t hurry up the stairs,
if your booty’s kinda shaky
and is growing several hairs,
then join me in rejoicement
as we shout what is so true:
“WE LOVE YOU, BOOTY-GOUTY!
BOOTY-GOUTY, WE LOVE YOU!”
We don’t know where you came from
or really what you are.
From the way you drag behind you,
we assume the way was far.
But though you look bedraggled
and you’re missing some spare parts,
you keep our giggles going
while we wave away your farts.
(It’s like a poem in an un-children’s-book. I don’t understand why this is happening.)
How long will you stay with us?
Booty-gouty, we don’t know.
We can’t take you into school;
you’re no good for Tell & Show.
We’ll enjoy you while you last,
’til you have schlepped yourself away.
Thanks for sharing, Booty-gouty!
Thanks for brightening the day!
If anyone actually comments on this, you get the Brave Or Merciful Soul Of the Year Award.
*No alcohol was consumed in the making of this poem. I swear.
Or: A Blogging Voice Is Hard to Come By
If you’ve tweeted with me recently…
…or if you’ve read comments I’ve left on others’ blogs…
…or if you’ve paid close attention to my blog posts over the last month or so,
…you know that I’ve been worrying about my vision and my voice.
When I started this blog, I had a vision for it: I knew I wanted it to be my platform for launching my novels, and I knew I wanted it to be an encouraging, inspiring place to talk about writing.
What I didn’t know was just how to translate that vision into reality.
I still don’t know. I can’t give you a “5 How-Tos for Turning Your Blogging Vision into Reality.” That, however, would make a cramazing blog post, and if you write it, tell me. I will link back to you.
Anyway, I’m still figuring out the how-tos. Judy Dunn (of catseyewriter.com) and I have had several conversations about blogs as labs.
Blogs Are Big, Friendly Dogs
I mean, no: Blogs aren’t big, friendly dogs who lick your face and make big, sad eyes at you. Blogs are laboratories, in which you can experiment with the crazed enthusiasm of a ten-year-old with her first chemistry set.
Mix things! Pour things into each other and see what happens! Sometimes you’ll get gunk, and you’ll get in trouble because you made the house smell like rotten eggs an hour before the neighbors come over for coffee and ice cream. (I might or might not be waxing nostalgically anecdotal here.)
Sometimes, though, you’ll pestle and mortar a few elements into your blog that create a spectacular bang. And that’s when it turns glorious.
So, that’s the blog-as-lab concept. It’s all fun and games, ’til someone gets a thumb burnt off. I’m learning not to be scared to try new stuff (see my recent first video blogs).
When The Dogs Worry Me
The operative word of the previous sentence is “learning.” As I hinted above, I still get nervous about my blog’s vision and voice. If my vision is the theory, then my voice is the practice. And I’m not talking about how my voice sounds in my videos (even though I personally don’t get the greatest thrill out of listening to that, lemme tell ya).
No, what I’m talking about are these questions:
When I write my blog posts, am I being genuine? Am I being sincere?
If I’m not being genuine and sincere, do I at least sound genuine and sincere?
Am I being myself?
How much am I holding back because I’m too freakin’ scared of getting rejected for whatever bizarre reason my subconscious chooses to drum up this time?
I know I’m connecting with readers — but how much more would I be connecting if I weren’t holding back?
Am I truly so terrified of making myself vulnerable?
Three weeks ago, my first novel came out. One would think that means I’m not afraid of being vulnerable. Sharing a novel with the world is a pretty soul-baring thing to do.
I blog. And I feel myself holding back.
Is it fear?
Or is it pride?
Does part of me still think I have to pretend I’ve got it all together? After all this time and after getting knocked off my self-gifted pedestal again and again, does part of me still believe I’ve gotta show the world some perfect example?
Am I too full of myself to share my true self with you?
In Every Job That Must Be Done…
I found a fun thing this week. Somebody tweeted it, and sadly I cannot remember who it was. But you can find said fun thing here:
At the bottom of the Tweet Topic Explorer screen, you can type in any Twitter ID, and the system will generate a picture of all these nifty circles of different sizes and colors. Whichever words that Twitter ID tweets the most, those will be in larger circles. And they’re grouped together by color, showing which words appear together in most tweets.
If you click through that link above, you’ll see that I did this with my own Twitter ID. I also did it with several of yours. But I ain’t tellin’. ; )
And as soon as I saw what the Tweet Topic Explorer generated for me, I felt like a burden had dropped off my shoulders.
There, my dear inklings, tweetlings, and darlings, is my vision for my blog. Why did the burden drop off my shoulders? Because what I tweet about, I’m blogging about. And if most of my tweets include those words you see up there, that means I’m tweeting and blogging about all the things that are part of my vision.
tim — which is actually “time,” if you must know. ; )
Things I’m thinking as a writer. Things I care about as a writer. Things that keep me going as a writer. Not to mention the people. (Tweetlings, follow those IDs you see in my Tweet Topic cloud thingy. They’re pretty cramazing folks.)
All of these are part of my vision. ‘Twould seem I’m sharing more of that vision than I thought I was.
And as for my worries about my voice…well, if my mind weren’t sitting back and letting my fingers do the talking for this post, I probably wouldn’t have talked about slobber-happy retrievers and crazed ten-year-olds with chemistry sets.
Here’s to fun little hints that let me know I’m “doing it right.” (You know who you are.)
Here’s to keeping it real, and here’s to sharing more and more and more.
Speak up, y’all. What are the vision/voice concerns that keep you up at night?
Is your struggle with fear? With pride? With something else?
What keeps you from making yourself vulnerable?
What are the obstacles keeping you from your audience?
What’s the one obstacle you can pulverize right now?
Tweetlings, do the Tweet Topic thing — what surprises you about your results?