Be Yourself

Are you weird? Probably not, if we're grading on a scale. We've all had authentic weirdos cross our path. They're pretty easy to spot. Not weird as in "dangerous", but someone we prefer to avoid. There were a couple of people like that in my workplace. I'd see them heading my way and panic a little, desperately searching for a polite way to get rid of them. One was a whisperer. She'd hang on my cubicle and veer off into uncharted topics, half of them delivered so quietly that I would just nod my head, even though I couldn't hear most of what she was saying. Once in a while I invented a meeting I was late for, just to get away. Another was a downer. Every single thing in her life was the pits. But my sympathy could only go so far, and I just wanted her to leave. These people weren't classic weirdos, but they deviated from standard behavior.

Weirdos can be weird in a good way, too. Individualistic. Fascinating to interact with. Another co-worker I'd find myself outside smoking with also had almost exclusively negative tales to tell, but her telling of them was so vivid (even though I think a lot of the details were made up), I found myself thoroughly entertained.  

As authors, we can't go wrong by being ourselves, so why do we sometimes try so hard to avoid it? Oh, the reader won't like that. How do we know? The reader most likely would enjoy something unique, and who else can provide that except weird thinkers like us?

I admit to having censored myself at times, but for language rather than content. Admittedly, I can be a bit salty in real life, but except for the rare instances of dialogue that call for it, I avoid profanity. It's lazy, for one thing, and tiresome if used too much.

What brought to mind the topic of being oneself was my previous post about newsletters. I have not been authentic, and I'm wondering if that has been my downfall. When conversing with someone you don't know, it's natural to be guarded. That's why, I guess, we talk about the weather. We don't spill all the details of our private lives. My newsletter is a "conversation" with strangers, but what would I have to lose by being authentic? Show some humor. Most people like humor, right? In my books I use humor sparingly, if at all, and it's only the self-deprecating kind; the main character misunderstanding something and making a fool of herself. Humor is subjective, but if it fits the scene and is directed inward, it stays.

I'm going to take a whole new tack with my next newsletter. If subscribers don't like the real me, they are free to unsubscribe. Some have unsubscribed for less. Plus, I'm boring myself on this current road. One can be offended by boring content, too.  

My stories are my imaginary world. My correspondence needs to come from me.