Don't you have a very hard time with people whose ego appears unchecked? On many occasions, we are in the presence of people who feel by the benefit of their place in the employment world,or their economic successes, or their standing in the community, or some other accomplishment large or small, that they are in some way special. I am not overly fond of those people. I think I have become one of them.
When I turned to writing these short essays earlier this year, I met with immediate positive feedback. The first piece I penned (I understand nobody really pens anything) was quoted, in part, in a national magazine. This spurred me on to consider myself a writer of untapped potential. The pieces began to flow on virtually a daily basis. While none found their way to an audience of more than a dozen at most, if anyone (including those within my household) gave me any positive feedback, the size of my stature as a writer grew, at least in my mind.
I found myself quoting pieces I had written to anyone who would listen. I discovered ways in almost every conversation to make reference to something I had recently put down on paper. I noticed that my very closest friend, who had read my early essays religiously and was an almost daily part of my review of everything me, stopped reading my blog. He was too busy, or too distracted, I thought, not disinterested or fed up with my self congratulations.
I tried to figure out a method to be writing with both hands, but still be patting myself on the back at the same time. I was witty, I was incisive, I was voicing opinions that all of us think but can't articulate clearly. I was taken with myself.
Then, within the last several weeks, I learned that one piece might find its way to being published in a book full of essays of various writers. More recently, a response I wrote to the NY Times regarding an op ed of Warren Buffett, was included in the letters to the editor. I frantically sent out e-mails to 40 or 50 of my closest and dearest, announcing my accomplishments, like I had just given birth to sextuplets, or been awarded the Nobel prize.
I have decided this must stop. I know people don't need, or want, to hear me talk about myself or my writing. They want to hear about anything but that. I want to hear about anything but that. I hope I don't need an intervention. I want to be like one of those smokers who quit cold turkey. If you hear me discuss anything about my writing the next time I am with you, I give you permission to make the L (loser) sign with your hand. It will be a little reminder to me to move the conversation elsewhere. I don't really mean to be this self absorbed.
Oh, by the way, if you like this piece, please comment on my website and pass along my info (tooearlytocall.com, that's tooearlytocall.com) to all your friends.
1 comment:
Writing at all is a wonderful vanity. Hush hush.
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