No Can be a Positive Experience

I am a writer. Do you know how I know? Because if you took away everything I owned but my computer and Internet service (and husband and son), I could still be happy. My back can ache, my feet can swell, my throat can feel constricted and my nasal passages clogged, but if my hands retain their agility, I would still keep merrily typing away until carpal tunnel set in.

Sometimes I awake in the middle of the night in a fever because I have a great idea for an article, book, ad campaign or press release. On occasion my husband has awakened to find an empty spot beside him with an indentation attesting that someone did sleep there, he wasn’t hallucinating. When we were newly married, he would sneak out to find out what was bothering me. Had he said something inadvertently harsh that still resonated several hours later? Was I feeling all right? Now he knows. That’s just me, plying my craft.

So considering that writing is my vocation as well as avocation, would I allow someone else to deter me from pursuing my creative freedom? No. But would I suffer through several detours along the path? Absolutely! Because I’m a sensitive person, as are most writers, and criticism (oral and written) hurts like the Dickens. You know the pen (and tongue) is mightier than the sword. Now, I thank G-D that I have never been on the end of a sword, but I have been on the end of a “poison pen” letter and a figurative tongue thrust in my direction. And let me tell you, I bear some scars. But do you know what I say to all those detractors? Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah. Because I am still writing and getting published. I have been through the tunnel and emerged into the light tougher, stronger, more certain of my direction and more creative for having suffered. Somehow suffering fuels creativity, although I don’t recommend you try it as a first choice.

Now let me tell you about an experience I had that propelled me towards a career as a Freelancer. I had taken a job as a publicist – one of my specialties is PR – in Manhattan at a boutique firm that was at its inception. My interview was conducted at the employer’s home and I found, to my chagrin, that this was to be the employment site as well. ‘All right,’ I thought, “I can handle this.” Then I saw the cat. Not a little, cute, cuddly, cat, but a long and lean, inquisitive cat who would wrap itself around you and peer into your bags and under your sweater. Now, I cannot say that I am a cat lover. Yes, I know I’m probably in the minority, but cats creep me out. And this one was definitely creepy. Nevertheless, I hid my revulsion and maintained my composure throughout the interview, even as the cat attempted to unravel the lunch I had brought with me (to be eaten in Central Park.)