Five years ago I took a lover. An exhausted mother with very young children, I understood neither the depth of my deprivation, nor my vulnerability in the arms of this Casanova. Besotted by blogging, my chemistry with Writing On The Internet proved all-consuming.
Sadly, Desperado, I’ve come to my senses.
Studies show romantic love typically wanes after several months or at most a year or two (make that days or weeks in blogtime). Most couples who split do so before the onset of the 7-year-itch. After only one year online, I became internet-poly-amorous, buying three domains, acquiring two twitter handles, and assembling two Facebook pages plus my personal profile—a roomy multi-level love-nest for MeMyselfAndI.
I tended my internet home fires—writing and submitting my work for publication, watching my bio grow, honing my conceptual humor voice and whittling my wit. I threw myself into my online affair, sacrificing sleep and most of my precious-little energy towards my words and those of others.
As the years go on, the part of me that constructs the clever has grown weary, and the part of me that comes to the page to make sense of my experiences yearns to strip away the onus of “funny.” I now blow on the embers of humor in my posts, in hopes that the heat of that voice doesn’t turn to smoke and vanish completely along with my audience (insert hand-flourish; my audience).
My writing has been recognized due to the clarity of voice and my ability to make people laugh. I’m no longer sure that voice still suits me. Am I going through a writing adolescence? Is my voice changing? Is she out getting forehead injections and test-driving Maseratis? Do I need to divorce my starter-voice in order to write my way into my own potential?
I now recognize my tendency toward self-bifurcation—humorist vs. writer, national director vs. blogger, people manager vs. people pleaser– both as a lack of trust in my path,
and as resistance to doing the work. But as the years pass and my “no” response to writing opportunities far outnumber my yeses, said opportunities dwindle. I’ve had any number of invitations to write that I’ve either turned down or let down. I think people who approach me based on my published pieces assume that work comes effortlessly and naturally for me. Sure thing! My hair always looks like this! No, in fact, I did not just step out of a salon. My wrist-braces for tendonitis due to round-brushing two hours a day just make me look as if I did!
LTYM now demands 90 % of my work-energy, and this blog hobbles along where it used to skip. Yet, I’m committed to staying here. Most of the writing I’ve done this month might never see publication here or elsewhere, and that’s how many (most?) writers write. Many people consider themselves writers who haven’t published– or even written– in weeks, months, or perhaps years. My writer friends who don’t blog have looked at my past publishing pace as border-line obsessive, and would likely consider even a monthly post schedule respectable if not semi-prolific. Yet, I barely feel I can stake a claim to a blogger identity anymore. Really “social media status updater” is more accurate. Instead of working those creative impulses into blog posts, I share 17 words in place of 600 and move along with my day.
So, the relationship continues. Therapist Michael Gurian posits four stages of a relationship: Romance, Disillusionment, Misery and Awakening. My own therapist told me that if you never work through a misery phase, you’re likely to repeat it. I started this blog as a writing practice and have forced my creativity through blogging as an antidote to perfectionism. Clearly, the romance is over, and disillusionment came and went by 2010. I guess that leaves me, my words, and I in misery. I need to trust my path and that those words—however, wherever, and whenever they come out– make up the stepping stones toward awakening. Awakening sounds nice. Good morning, 2014.
Wishing you a peaceful, joyful new year, and the courage to write.
This was really great, Ann. So is this the part where we toast Misery because at least it’s showing us we’re on the right path??
YES.
Here’s to awakening!
I could have written so many parts of this, swapping “LTYM” with “stand-up”. And especially the part about my hair always looking this fabulous.
Coming directly to the post myself 🙂 see what I can see. YOU are total Awesomeness is what I see right now!!! Best to you and yours in the coming year. Love this post … LOVE your Voice you have written. darsden <3 u
okay trying name/url…. very jumbled..there in lies the problem
I think any kind of evolving is a sign that you are on the right path. Beautiful post and Happy 2014!
Right?? Thanks, Adam.
Thank you, Darsden!
Amen.
You, too, Erin!
“Social Media Updater.” Yes. Facebook and Twitter are fun, but they’re a cheap high.
Very insightful, relatable post, Ann. I’m right there with you.
I need the shot of courage. Thanks.
Word.
I feel you so much on this. But unlike you, I think my affair’s officially over. I think so many bloggers who want to stop feel somehow that it’s a huge failing to end a blog–like abandoning a child. But just because something can continue forever doesn’t mean it should, and when it gets to the point where it’s a chore and no longer a pleasure, I think it’s not only wise but powerful to call it quits and move on to other mediums and other projects. If you WANT to, that is. I, for one, give you complete and unreserved permission 🙂
Ann I signed on today to write about this very thing. Blogging is a weird calling as we enter 2014– its payoffs have really changed. But it brought me to LTYM, and to you. And for that I am forever grateful.
I write, but I no longer chase.
Some one this week asked me if I really wanted to keep writing humor. I decided to take it as a compliment.
I write, because my life is happier with it, than without it. No, strike that, not happier but more satisfied. Even with the reality of the reality of all that goes with an online writing life. I would be pressed against the window pane looking in, rather than being on the other side of that pane of glass, were it not for writing. And writing brought me Ann Imig. It more than levels out. Here’s to more of knowing you, and following you, Ann Imig, in a world where we are not asked to think enough.
This post here, more than I’ve given thought to anything this week. Thank you.
Funny is good, and it’s nice to feel like you’re able to make people laugh and to see the humor in situations that don’t look that way at first glance. But good writing is good writing and some of my favorite posts of yours this year were the more introspective WhereILivedWednesday posts.
As my wise friend recently told me, you have to trust your path. 🙂
Sooooo good. Sooooo true.
I wrote you a long comment, which the internets just ate. But the short version is that (1) I am going through the same growing pains and can relate; and (2) you are a real writer, and your readers (and friends!) will follow you wherever that writing path takes you. Happy New Year, my friend.
Welcome 2014 indeed…and at least misery does love company?
It only gets worse. Ten years later and unable to quit I sit here… 😉
Happy New Year Ann. That is the challenge of writing as a profession. To write in the midst of no inspiration. To write when we are emotional drained. (And not just writing how we are emotionally drained.) Love what you write and all that you do.
So many things to nod yes to this post – except the great hair thing. When will I achieve great hair ever. Love this post Ann and you. Happy 2014. xoxo
Yes, BUT I think the best part of life in general is that we are always evolving. If everything stayed the same, you would eventually be dissatisfied in a different way. If it weren’t for Ann’s Rants, you wouldn’t be where you are today, and just because it has a lesser role in your writing life doesn’t mean that it’s any less important to your story. As we take on new responsibilities and take advantage of new opportunities, no matter what the category, other things in our lives get a different ranking either permanently or just for a while. I despise change yet I find that when I relax and let myself be eased into it, I end up wondering why I fought it so hard in the first place. xoxo
To quit or not to quit. To write or not to write. Keep doing what you do, and the world will thank you for it. I know I do.
I love this, Ann. Here’s where I come down on it: the creative work is the constant, but the channel changes. So if the blog worked as a channel for awhile, that’s great, but that doesn’t mean it has to always be the outlet. For you, your creativity has been able to surface in directing and, soon, in a book. The blog is just one of the places and ways where you can choose to express yourself. I don’t think you owe your audience that you’ll always stay in one place (even if I am someone who loved reading all your posts 🙂 ) You do owe yourself, and your audience by extension, the commitment to your creativity.
La Lefler helped me think about this the right way when she said, “You’re a writer with a blog. Not necessarily a blogger.” As a writer, my work could land in a million places – a blog, an article, a LTYM performance. What’s important is the writing. Blogging will always be special because of the community aspect it implies – and we are so lucky to know many of the same wonderful, supportive bloggers out there. But you don’t have to limit yourself.
I have a post brewing with similar thoughts… about how our experiences build upon each other. But the evolution feels very unsettling because I always want to know where I AM and where I AM GOING (in call caps). Ann, I’m thrilled to get to know you as you step up and into this role as the “Mother” of “Listen To Your Mother”. Cheers to the journey and where it all takes you!
It’s a journey, a journal, a life. We don’t quit writing because, well, we’re WRITING RIGHT NOW. We just change. And you have ALWAYS been an adolescent. About 14 years old, I’d say, maybe 15. But nicer than most teenagers are. At least, nicer than MY TEENAGER is.
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Ann,
This piece is a stealthily profound wisdom-bomb. I love it.
It is of course perfect for New Years, that time when the promises to quit this and to start that encompass the twin poles of desire and often skip the creamy middle path of simply staying the course.
It is officially about writing but is, underneath that, about every practice and relationship we might have (I can apply it to work, yoga, exercise, eating, yelling, spouse…. all the objects of desire and distaste).
For me it’s a beautiful meditation on and circumvention of the binary bind of yes and no, attraction and rejection, and the daring, scary and intense middle path. I’ll be on that path too–okay?–and looking for your tracks. thanks so much for these; See you down the road!
Yes, Ann. Me too. I love this so much.
I feel this one. I am in the floundering phase … is that a phase? Love you. Happy New Year.
Misery loves company-like smoking with the cool kids. Blogging, like smoking, is a habit that gives me what I think is pleasure but it could be taking years off my life–misdirecting energy and time.
Member when the smokers hung out at work in their own little clubs, ignoring titles and corporate hierarchies in favor of a light? While the non-smokers used to sweat it out over Power Point presentations in their cubicles, the smokers networked and collaborated during ciggie breaks.
I don’t smoke anymore, but I blog. How else can I hang with the cool kids?? It’s a habit I just haven’t chosen to break, yet. Is there a Blog Patch?
I can relate to this a lot. A lot. I think taking the expectations out of blogging has helped me continue…I don’t chase page views and numbers like I did in the beginning, but after all this time it does lose it’s luster a bit.
Growing pains, my friend. We evolve. Go with it. The writing on my blog has changed a lot over the years. I’m far less political and angry, and more into pieces that inspire and short fiction. I don’t check my stats and don’t care about them. Just the act of writing has taken me so many pieces I never could have predicted and brought people into my life that I treasure. I write and blog for the joy of doing so. And really, that’s the only reason to do anything, isn’t it?
Happy New Year, most dear Ann.
Evolve is the theme here and it’s actually exciting. People usually burn out of blogging long before their blog has evolved into something else. You catapulted to an incredible, national show that helps showcase other writers. You may not be writing as much, but you’re creating and helping others create. It’s different parts of the same desire that brought you to this site.
I love this. I have so much I want to say. I just don’t know where to start. I love this so much. I’ll follow you anywhere.
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