Friday Fricassee

I probably don't come off this way to you, but I'm an introvert.

Not a really introverted introvert, like my beloved critique partner and friend Adam Heine, who writes amazing stories while hiding under a table.  (Okay, not really.)  But I'm definitely worn out by crowds and need alone time to recharge.  Depending on my mood, I may or may not initiate a conversation with a stranger.  (Though, more likely than not, I will be absolutely chatty, which makes it even harder to convince people that, yes, I am an introvert.)

And small talk?  Don't come near me with that.  Nothing will wear me out faster.

Seems to me I'm not the only member in the introverted writer's club.  While introversion isn't a prerequisite for writing, it does seem like there are an awful lot of us out there, quietly scribbling our stories and avoiding the parties we've been invited to.  Also, cats are frequently involved.

(Lucy, who is also an introvert)

So here's the thing.  I may not be down with the office party or the neighborhood get-together, but give me an opportunity to share written words of encouragement or a funny story or my thankfulness for someone's kindness, and I'm all over it.  Time and again throughout my life, people have thanked me for my words.  It's my modus operandi, and I've finally learned to embrace it.

In the past, I've been made to feel somehow inadequate because I choose to write instead of to talk.  I hate phones -- HATE THEM.  (Go ahead -- ask my agent.)  Years ago, when I worked as an administrative secretary, my boss used to purposely assign me lists of people to call for various reasons, because he knew I hated calling them.  (He wasn't being mean--he was stretching me.  Not that I remotely appreciated that at the time.)  Honestly, I have to force myself to call my own mother, whom I adore.

And, yeah, I was often made to feel like somehow something was wrong with me.  My main argument--that, for thousands of years, there was no such thing as a phone, and people somehow managed to maintain relationships anyway--fell on deaf ears.  I often felt like I needed to justify my anti-phone-ness.

Then, somewhere along the way, I snapped.  For one thing, I began to discover that there were other people in my life who ALSO HATED PHONES.  And these were nice people--friendly people.  People who were warm and caring and normal.  So, if others could be normal and still hate phones, so could I.

For another, though, I finally embraced my gift of expressing myself through writing.  Writing is a huge part of who I am.  Why in the world wouldn't a natural outgrowth of that be a desire to write to people instead of talking?  (Mind you, I can talk your ear off.  I LOVE TALKING.)  Why am I somehow lacking if I choose to write a letter or an email or, heaven forbid, send a text message to someone who's on my heart?

(May I just say that TEXTING IS THE BEST THING EVER INVENTED.)

So that's how I roll.  If I need you, I'll text you.  If you leave me a voicemail, I'll text you in return.  If you've invited me to a party via Evite, I will happily click on my RSVP, rejoicing that I don't have to call you to tell you I'm coming (or not).

(May I just say that EVITE IS THE SECOND BEST THING EVER INVENTED.)

I imagine this is why I've successfully reached out and encouraged so many of you over the years.  I'm in my SPACE when I'm writing things to people--it feels natural.  Now, if I were speaking at a conference and hundreds of you were sitting there listening to me, I WOULD BE FINE WITH THAT, TOO.

Because I love microphones as much as I love texting.

Funny dichotomy, isn't it?  So many performers are also introverts as well.  And I've spent a lot of time performing in my life--from band concerts to musical theatre to piano recitals to chamber groups to wedding solos to symphony chorus performances.  I've also been a teacher, so being in front of a classroom doesn't faze me, either.

It's the parties that do me in.  And phones.

But I really am fine with who I am--finally.  My words reach the people I care about regardless of how I deliver them.  There's nothing "wrong" with me.  Words are my thing, and writing them is my favorite way to express myself.

That's a good thing today, because I've lost my voice, so I'm on a self-imposed no-talk day (which is really the only way to allow your vocal cords to heal--in case you were wondering).  I'm not happy about this--I have an audition a week from tomorrow, and I've been singing every day in preparation.

Full stop.  So frustrating.

I'm thankful the scratchy-throat-and-gunked-up-vocal-cords is the only part of the respiratory crud that flew through here in the past week I've been hit with, though.  I'm drinking lots of tea with raw honey and staying as quiet as humanly possible.

Good thing I'm so proficient at texting, yes?  It comes in handy when it's the only way you can communicate.  :)

So, my friends.  If you're happier behind your keyboard or phone or quill pen, YOU'RE OKAY.  Don't let anyone tell you something's wrong with you because you tend to write more than you speak.  God gave you a particular voice, and that's the one you've got to use.  As long as you're not hiding behind the keyboard or phone or quill pen (which is a different story altogether), you're fine.  Share your heart in the best way you know how.  It's all we can do, really.

(And if you're a phone hater and feel the need to say OMG YES YES I HATE PHONES, TOO?  Please shout it out in the comment box.  Solidarity, folks!)