Coming To Know What I Don’t Know
It’s possible to go to the Breathe Writer’s Conference and remain clueless.
In fact, it’s possible to go to that aforementioned conference twice in a row and remain clueless.
I’m Cal, and I’m a clueless Breathe Attendee.
Now, I’m not so deluded as to expect that by sheer virtue of attending any conference, one immediately puts the pieces together, springs into a frenzy of creative output, and then your magnum opus comes forth, fully formed, like the nekkid gal rising from the sea just wearing that dreamy smile.
(Apologies to those of you that know me for the mental image of anything related to me rising nekkid from the sea with a dreamy smile. Send your therapy bills to the Breathe Writer’s Conference – they started it.)
You then begin your stellar writing career, dropping your astonishing works behind you with such frequency as to make authors wring their coffee mugs in despair, all while beholding the glory of your droppings, a path of nuggets of gold on pathways of silver.
Hang on – gotta check something…
(Turns to Book of Proverbs, electronically flipping “pages”… Hmmm… “A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.” – Proverbs 25:11 (NIV))
Well, that was awkward.
So, after three Breathe Conferences, still without much writing output to show for it, one could conclude that this writing thing is a dead end, or at least not worth dropping some serious coin on. (Relative to our household budget, that is – the conference is a true bargain for all it includes!)
But, at least for this Calbert, that would not be a good conclusion to draw. Or paint, using the cool numbers and little paint cups.
Besides, crayons are more my jam.
What I’m realizing, as the calendar turns and pre-registration is open once again, is that I’m just now coming to know what I don’t know.
I really don’t know what direction my writing wants to go. I don’t know what my “platform” is, and I’m slightly afraid of heights anyway. And I don’t know what aspect of my “unique perspective” should be my main writing “voice.” (I do know that one of my more grievous writing sins, of which there are legion, is overuse of quotation marks… I tend to overuse dot-dot-dot too… A lot… Yup… And don’t even get me started about italics.)
For some folks, maybe one conference is all it takes to kick start that puppy, shove it into overdrive, and launch that campaign of world writing domination, making all weep in awe of one’s wordsmithing bodacity.
For we Calberts, not so much. For us, the process seems to take a bit longer. And by “longer,” I of course mean “turtles whipped into a feeding frenzy by imbibing energy drinks.”
So I’ll be signing up for Breathe once again, finding out more about what I don’t know. Someday, the seeds will sprout, and writing will spring forth.
Lover of God, Teller of Stories, Player of Whistles, Appreciator of Wonder, Afraid of Spiders.Cal is the Keeper of the Fluffy Goodness at: www.calolson.org