~Please, play amongst yourselves~
It is not without difficulty to maintain a story playing within your mind when ppl are speaking to you in many forms, making demands, and throwing you off your game. Imagine having no less than a thousands words in your mind, all of which need cultivated (put to paper in some semblance of a story), especially dialogue.
Do this exercise: think up a phrase that has more than 20 words. Wait 20 minutes while doing a bunch of shit, whatever… get distracted all to hell… Now, I want you to repeat those 20 words back, verbatim. Ah, shit! You messed up, didn’t you? Unnerving as all hell, isn’t it? Frustrating, too? Perhaps, murderous? Sad that that great line of dialogue is forever lost all because someone wanted to discuss political views or ask what’s for dinner. Lost and forgotten because someone had something that couldn’t wait… five f’n minutes. Now imagine those 20 words are thousands… see my point?
I love the posts, the comments, the msgs, and emails. What I don’t love is the pressure to answer them in a timely manner… or at all. I’ve been writing emotionally taxing scenes today, so if a lighthearted post appears, I’m gonna play. If I were writing romance or snark and someone posted something dark and depressive, I’d avoid it like the plague. Like an actor, I have to stay in character. Unlike an actor, I’m playing every part in the movie… while writing the f’n movie… and directing the movie… and marketing the movie… and producing the movie. .. and showing the movie.
Stressed? *points at self* Me? Nope!
Writing is everything to me: self-expression, release, an outlet to my soul. It is also my profession. So when I’m bothered and do not reply, don’t get upset with me. Writing is my job. My laptop is my office. The internet is my network, my research- I can’t NOT log in, but I can NOT respond. My point, if I worked an office job and dozens of ppl came in and asked if I had a minute, a minute that always turns into hours, I’d get fired. I don’t care what the profession is, that is disrespectful.
I worry that I’ll look like a bitch if I say I need space. I feel like a horrible person if I say no. I feel like I’m being disrespectful. It’s a lot of pressure. But in a way, the disrespect is flowing from the other side. I have every right to work in peace, especially when my job demands complete and total concentration. I refuse to feel guilty anymore.
Case in point, I’ve lost about two hours to playing with an image, writing a blog posting, and apologizing for being not-so nice. Two hours I can’t get back. But it was two hours I didn’t do something for someone else, either, so that puts it in the win category. Willow is very upset with me right now. I left her mid-scene. That is disrespect… to my story, my character, and myself. I owe myself more than that. It’s more important than whatever small request, dig, opinion, question, insult, or rambling that bothered me in the first place.
& a little bit of unknown information: this post isn’t written in a negative connotation. I’m actually in a good mood, which is a surprise 😀 & by that I mean I’m usually a stoic mofo, so happy is… a strange place for Erica to be, now isn’t it?
No, this post is not directed at any one person. The past few days it’s been obvious to me that I need to set some boundaries. So please, continue to interact with me and amongst yourselves(it makes me happy when you all get along- warms the cockles of my heart, it does), just don’t expect me to reply until I’m able. & if I reply to someone and not you, it’s not about you, okay? I’m being selfish, so it’s 100% all on me. I still like you: find you cute and funny. Maybe it’s something that’s stressing me out and I fear it will upset the muse. I don’t know; we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
REMINDER: I like my friends, my follower, my readers. You all provide me with inspiration and entertainment. But Erica is the world’s largest introvert. She lives in a bubble of her own creation. She gets spazzy when someone tries to pop her bubble.
~Don’t Pop Erica’s Bubble~