Deborah Sickle Hill

Tag: blogging

  • Writing Naked

    “You have quite the internet presence,” said the woman on the phone who interviewed me six months ago for a part time position.  “Well, this is complicated,” she continued. “I think you are exactly what we are looking for, but I’m not sure what I think of what you write. The topics you write about, you know? Granted, it’s not fair to judge you based on your writing vs not having the same criteria for all the other applicants. It’s just I’m more comfortable hiring someone whose beliefs and ideas are unknown to me.”

    I put down the phone in stunned silence. I told my hubby what happened. He said, “Well, you obviously are not getting that job.”  And he was right. “Just let it go,” he said. That was six months ago.

    I did think, well, if she thought the content of my blog and web sites were controversial ( I don’t see the controversy), wait till she reads my novel. They would have fired me for sure, if I’d been hired.

    Yes, I do have the internet presence, but hey, I’m out there trying to connect, trying to get my writing out, trying to share my inner sanctum with others who might benefit. I think it’s altruistic, in some respects. Does it make me vulnerable to scrutiny? Yes, and I knew this when I finally got the courage to write and put it out there. So what is the problem?

    The problem is… this is the first thing I have written in six months. All editing, plotting, character development, research and blog writing came to a crashing halt. You don’t want to see me when I’m not writing. It’s not pretty. This is devastating to me and I am the one who is keeping me stuck!

    “Do you stand by your writing?” hubby asks on the one hundredth conversation about the same topic.  Of course I do. “Then this is a no-brainer, just start writing again and don’t let anyone slow you down.” God love him, he doesn’t get it.

    I walk around in this state of malaise, passing by the proof of my novel on the desk, the dust covered storyboard of the next novel in the works, and think – is this what life is all about? That’s when I know I’m in deep doo-doo, when I realize my daily writing has become a once in a six month event and I’m contemplating the meaning of life – again.

    It’s easy to tell my clients to do reality checks on those insidious thoughts and hidden emotions. It’s even easier to help my expressive writing clients work through their writing blocks and put their life on the page.  Oh, therapist, heal thy self. It’s not like I don’t have the skills.

    This is where the nude writing comes in. I thought my problem is that I felt vulnerable and exposed as a result of that ridiculous phone call six months ago. Even though I was already willingly vulnerable and exposed, having it brought to my attention somehow changed things.

    Hmm, I often tell my clients to embrace that which causes us pain instead of hiding or running. So, I’m embracing feeling vulnerable and exposed. The next step is called flooding. It’s where you find a situation where you feel really uncomfortable with what ails you and work your way through. I can’t currently think of any situation other than writing this blog naked to feel totally exposed and vulnerable. So here I am writing again!

    Am I naked? Hell no! Its sixty-four degrees in this house and the heater is not on! Do you think I’m insane?  Which brings me to my last point, the imagination is an amazing tool. In a world of pure imagination you can conquer just about anything – and you get to keep your clothes on.

  • Oh No! Not Spam!

    As many of you know I have an internet business doing something called e-therapy. It uses an e-mail system for people who either do not want to make traditional weekly appointments in an office or are not able to. The key point of this is – e-mail is important to me. Very important.

    So, imagine my surprise to find some people are ending up in my Spam folder. It’s a crazy system. The web site has an e-mail address and they forward the mail from this to my e-mail account which has a different e-mail address. They are, what do you call it, in sync.  Only, after having this system in place for several months I find all kind of important information I have not gotten because SPAM ate it.

    This makes me a bit upset, peeved, ticked, pissed, you name it. No one warned me about SPAM. I grew up with SPAM. SPAM in a can. I have no idea what SPAM in a can really is. They tell me its ham but I like ham and well then there is SPAM.  There was also a bit done by Monty Python called Spam-a-lot. I only remember some pieces to this and I don’t think they were talking about SPAM in a can, but I know they were not talking about SPAM in my e-mail system.

    My mother never served me SPAM in a can and I had to learn about it the hard way, as a poor student in college. That’s not a good way to learn about SPAM in a can but I’m sure there are worse.  She also never warned me about SPAM in my e-mail system. Yes, I know there was no internet or e-mail back when I was growing up but I really don’t see this as a good excuse for mom not introducing and warning me about SPAM.

    Warnings, like, “Dear, when you get older, there will be this thing called the internet. People will send you things you normally get in the mailbox. You really need to be careful, especially if you open an internet based business, that you check this little hidden device called SPAM. No, not the stuff we see in the grocery store in a can. Now be a good girl and eat your ham.”

    Okay, maybe it’s not a good idea to blame my mother for my short-comings in regards to SPAM. Perhaps I should look at the inner recesses of my own sub-conscious. Could it possibly be I’m so confused about SPAM in a can, it’s not ham but it is, I like ham but not SPAM that I don’t think about my SPAM folder?

    Maybe I was traumatized as a young adult, sitting in my dorm trying to open SPAM in a can with my geometry compass tip (I didn’t have a can opener), and accidently swallowing it with SPAM that I fear flashbacks?  Maybe, I should have really thought harder about opening a business where SPAM was going to be involved on any level! Sh-t!

    It’s too late now. I’m almost finished my office so I can start seeing people face to face again. Still, I really wanted this e-mail system to take off… Damn…Damn you to hell you dirty, stinking SPAM! (That’s a spoof of Charlton Heston’s line in the film Planet of the Apes)