The World Has Officially Become Strange in My Absence

I went out the other day. And I don't just mean outside for some fresh air, either. I literally masked up, got in an Uber, and ran an errand before Ubering back home. I've voluntarily done almost everything I need to from home for years at this point, so up until now, I've been able to stay the hell away from the outside world without changing much about my routine. And honestly, I would have been happy to continue that way indefinitely, but I needed to get a new ID and couldn't avoid visiting a DMV field office in person.

The DMV errand went just fine, but holy shit, has the world ever gotten weird in my absence. I'm, of course, well aware of how things have changed since the last time I was out frolicking around, never even having heard of COVID before. I knew what to expect in every way. But this was my first time seeing it all with my actual eyes and experiencing it in person. Seth came with me and also hasn't been out since the pandemic began, so I at least wasn't alone when it came to the perceived weirdness of it all.

It's one thing to know everyone masks up and social distances now, pretty much as a rule. It's another thing to actually visit places I've been to plenty of times before and see people doing it. It was a strangely similar experience to nightmares I've had in the past. In these nightmares, I'd visit places I either knew very well or had found very comforting in the past, but something vital would be wrong with them, suggesting it only looked like I was where I was supposed to be. 

My sense of direction has always been terrible, so getting lost was one of my most persistent childhood fears. When I'm anxious, I still dream about it in various contexts, especially those that suggest I might just have to stay lost forever. So seeing definitive proof that COVID really has touched my town -- the place where I grew up and have lived off and on for most of my life -- was a little strange. I can actually kind of see why so many people have so much trouble accepting this reality and choose to deny it altogether because they don't know what else to do.

On the Closing of a Most Productive August

Typewriter - Geliy Korzhev-Chuvelev (1961)

A strange thing I've noticed about the effects of writing and publishing personal essays and similar material. When I am very candid in what I create, I'm left feeling like I've been picking at old scabs or otherwise aggravating old wounds afterward. But it's not as disgusting or negative as it probably sounds. On the contrary, it's actually kind of therapeutic.

For one thing, I find revisiting some of these themes -- especially the ones that are harder for me to think about -- is pretty validating. People relate to and sympathize with these experiences to a much greater extent than I ever figured. It's also allowed me to better understand my thought process at various times, as I've lost touch with it over the years. I used to wonder what the hell I was thinking when I did things like marry my ex or choose to tolerate other people's toxic behavior instead of shutting it down, but I actually remember now. And it makes it easier to be kind to my former self instead of simply writing her off as a coward or a dumb-ass the way I used to.

That said, I've actually finished all four of my entries for Medium's writing contest as of last night. All of them were very personal, and most also found me touching on experiences that are sometimes hard for me to talk about. I don't expect to win or anything (although I certainly wouldn't complain if I did), but I can honestly say I'm proud of what I put out there and think I represented myself well. I also really fell in love with writing creative nonfiction and plan on exploring it further in the future.

On Falling Back in Love With Parts of Your Writing Identity

Melody of Rain - Michael Cheval (2015)

So, I've been sucking to high heaven at staying on top of my writing goals lately. Kind of, anyway. I still have plenty of time to put together some decent stuff, but I have yet to do more than brainstorm when it comes to my essays for Medium's big August writing contest. It's not like I haven't been plenty busy, though. 

I've had more work to do for clients than I've taken on in a while, but that's actually been strangely refreshing. Like a lot of creative people, I really crave variety in my work, so it's never a bad idea to switch things up once in a while. I've been pouring so much into my blogging and personal work lately that freelancing actually felt like a welcome departure from the norm instead of a grind I desperately need a break from. I talk a good game about leaving copywriting behind forever one day when (and if) I ever experience a big breakthrough with any of the rest of my writing. But I doubt I ever actually will. 

If I'm honest with myself, there are things I do like about it and will probably always like about it. Some part of me enjoys putting myself in the shoes of different audiences, educating others, and finding the right words to make a specific product or service sound inviting. Plus, I know some of the bigger writers in my circle have fallen madly in love with big-ticket private ghostwriting -- something to potentially consider if I ever make it to that level. There's always another level to move up to, it seems.

That said, let this be a reminder to any writer who thinks they've fallen out of love with any style of writing they once loved to produce. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so it's worth taking a little time away from something and coming back to it later regardless of how "done" you think you are with it. (That's how I rekindled my interest in creative writing months ago, as well.) In fact, I'm beginning to think writers never truly outgrow aspects of who they are and what they like to do with their words. 

On Discovering My Competitive Spirit

Untitled by Vincente Romero

So, I finally heard back about my application to Medium's new fellowship program. I did indeed get in, so once I receive my contract and get that all signed, I can expect a nice little minimum payment guarantee for August, September, and October. That's great because the more I can count on making through their platform every month, the more time I can actually justify spending over there. 

As always seems to be the case with every online platform, many writers have their gripes with Medium, but I've really been pretty happy with my experience so far. The type of writing I like to do is exactly the type of writing that does well there. I've been flexing my blogging muscles more often and can tell they're getting stronger, as I've been finding it easier to post really engaging content more frequently. And much to my surprise, I even seem to fit into the community there, and fitting in has never been something that came easily to me.

Medium also announced a big Vocal-style writing contest to close out the summer a few days ago. There are four prompts, four hefty cash prizes, an even heftier grand prize that will go out to one lucky writer, and a generous handful of smaller honorable mention payouts. I don't really kid myself that I will actually win anything, but I'm still looking forward to participating. The prompts are all totally my speed and sound like a blast to work with. Plus, you never know. Somebody wins those things.

Granted, it's taken me most of my life, but it's been nice to find things to do with my time and my talents that actually inspire a little healthy competitiveness in me. I was considered very gifted as a child and allegedly had a genius-level IQ, but I hated everything about it -- especially the way I was expected to enjoy competing with other kids for so-called honors that didn't mean anything to me. In some cases -- as with scholarships, apprenticeships, and opportunities to be shipped away to summer school in some other state -- I actively didn't want whatever the prize was. (Anything that added up to being ripped away from my home and being given a ton of extra work to do honestly felt more like a punishment than a reward.)