Building the Writer

 Ugh!

There are two things I really don't like.  One of them actually makes me a good teacher and the other makes me a good coach.  Neither of them is helpful to my writing career.

First, is the task of bragging about myself and my writing.  I don't know why it's good or what makes it good or how to describe what's good about it.  I just know that I love to do it and people enjoy reading it.  

"Summarize the skill and provide a sample."  

I mean, I can give you a sample of the piece I wrote about Tolstoy or Michael Perry or Mitch Albom, but how do I summarize the way they have spoken to my soul and pulled out a piece of my history?  There is no professional way to say that Andrew Bridge unwittingly acted as my counselor as I worked through my history in foster care.  My review of their work helps others to see through my experiences, but how can I put a value on that?  

Similarly, I can tell someone else your story.  I will ask you a thousand questions and find a theme, a consistency, a layer of the story beneath your answers and write it full of adjectives, adverbs, and actions that will make every reader think they have become your best friend.  Can I summarize my work that way?  Which company wants that on their website?

This makes me a good coach.  Knowing how hard it is to brag about myself, and thinking you may be just as uncertain, I can help you with a hundred adjectives about how great you are and what you bring to the table.  

The other thing I hate, that makes me a good teacher, is I had to take tests.  I doubt and second-guess every answer.  And 9 times out of 10, my gut reaction was correct.  I understand the second-guessing on tests which is why I try to make them more logical.  

I say all of that to say this.  Although I am really working to get my name out there as a freelance writer and although I'm really trying to market myself as a valuable asset to people who need someone to share their story, I really don't like it.  

I love writing.  I can do it almost effortlessly.  I have something to say that is valuable and helpful.

But, wow, it's hard for me to pinpoint why it's worth your effort.

So, dear readers, if you know anyone who needs an article, a skit, a white page, a book review, a paper edited, or a lesson planned... pass on my name.  If you want to be my publicist or agent or summary writer, please reach out.  

While I'm waiting for the fish to bite, I'll just be over here answering every LinkedIn, Upwork, Writer Access, Indeed lead I can find.  

As challenging as it is, however, I am thankful for this season of rest, refresh, and reset.  God is good.  

I Lost My Voice

It’s inevitable.  It’s Spring.  I know it’s going to happen it’s just a matter of when.  My kids always found great amusement in teasing me when it would happen. 

“Is that a mouse in the house?”

“Too bad mom isn’t up and calling me to leave because I’m totally ready.”

I would try to respond, but only a squeak or a hoarse whisper would be returned. 

This losing my voice thing has always been with me.  I don’t know the medical cause.  I’m sure someone who gets paid more than me could figure it out, but since it comes and goes I’ve never felt compelled to solve it.  Give it a day of not talking, some tea with honey and lemon and it will return.

As a writer, it shouldn’t make much difference.  After all, writers use words on paper, not verbally. It’s the perfect opportunity to use talent instead of vocal cords.

This time, however, it occurred to me that not only did I lose my voice verbally, but I have lost my voice on paper.  That’s a much greater problem.

I looked back on my blog and see there are scant posts for the last several years.  No attempts to explain, interest, engage, or exist outside of my bubble have been made.  I didn’t realize it was happening.

So, how did I lose my writing voice?  I became very intensely involved in teaching, mentoring, guiding, and helping a school and all of the people in that community.

It wasn’t a bad thing.  In fact, it was often quite good.  I watched several students find their purpose, their voice, their talent.  That is the real reward of teaching.  I poured my time and ability into them.  I wrote the best lesson plans I could.  I found activities to stretch them and bond them together.  I searched for opportunities to pull them out of their circumstances to see the greater good in the world. 

I watched the K-8 school slowly expand to high school adding one grade level at a time until this year there will be high school graduates.  I’m so proud of the progress. I’ve worked with colleagues that stretched their own imaginations and abilities to create tools to build successful students.  We cried together over losses, laughed with each other in joyful celebrations, and dug up old mindsets to create growth.

It has been a wild and rewarding ride.

All of those good things were good.  But it didn’t leave time or energy to write.  The miasma of activity circled me and pulled me higher and higher into its grasp.  There was no time to think, no time to play, no time for relationship building outside of the work. 

It’s what was needed.  It’s what was required.  It’s what was important.  Until it was done.

Now, in the stillness after the rush, I hear the words pulling me to paper again.  Perhaps this is the season of my life where writing will give back enough to keep body and soul together.  Or, perhaps, this is the season when the words will bring rest to my exhausted spirit. 

A good cup of tea with a dollop of honey and a splash of lemon will soothe my voice and help me to speak again.  A good hour of prayer with a dollop of reading and a splash of music will soothe my soul and help me to find words again.

Have you lost your voice?  I recommend you take some time out to rest, refresh and renew in the One who gives life.