I Can See the Headline Now...

I haven’t blogged for awhile. Actually, I haven’t written anything for awhile. I’ve been doing something I don’t usually do a lot of: sleeping. I mean, actually going to my bed and slipping into the world of dreams for as many as eight hours at a stretch. In my whole life I have only done that when I was sick or pregnant.

At the moment, I am not ill, and I am certainly not expecting a child. I’ve passed the procreation torch on to my children, and trust me, they are doing a fine job at the task.

But I don’t really want to talk about babies or sleeping. Those were just random thoughts I needed to get out of the way so I could talk about my real subject: self perception, and how it is affected by those around you.

I don’t think everyone is affected by other’s opinions equally. In fact, from my observations, it seems there are some people in the world who are pretty much oblivious to other people’s opinions about them.

There are times I wish I was one of them. Especially times like this, when it is three o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep because other people’s words about me keep running through my head, making me doubt myself. I had thought I had reached an age where other’s opinions no longer bothered me much, but then today came along…

First there was a very harsh criticism of my book, “Rainie Daze.” Well, it wasn’t actually a criticism about the book; in fact, the lady in question said it was well written, the characters well developed, and that it was worth the read. But before she said all that, she made a personal attack on me.

Now, I can take personal criticism okay; I don’t like it anymore than the next person, but the truth is I spend plenty of time criticizing myself, so there isn’t much another person can say about me that I haven’t already pointed out. But this lady said something about me that simply wasn’t true: she called me a liar.

Okay, that hurts, because like Rainie Lovingston (yes, I know, there are many similarities between me and Rainie… it’s just coincidence, I’m sure) I am a lousy liar. For one thing, I don’t have the self-confidence to lie. The mere thought of getting caught telling a falsehood makes the heat rise in my face, so if I actually try it… well, you can imagine. People will either immediately know I’m lying or call an ambulance because they fear I am about to stroke out.

Also, there is the fact that I detest liars. Once a person lies to me, after that pretty much everything that comes out of their mouth is suspect; the trust factor is crushed, destroyed, maybe never to be regained. So this lady didn’t just call me a liar; she called me detestable and untrustworthy.

What did she say, you ask? Well, for one thing, she said I “really wanted to sell that book.” Anyone that has ever witnessed me trying to self-promote is probably chuckling to themselves over that statement. It is ridiculous in the extreme, and if it weren’t for my family and friends telling people I’m a writer, probably no one would know it even now.

Secondly, she said I misrepresented my book, that I deliberately told her it was not exactly what it is. Really? I did that and didn’t burst out laughing or faint? Sorry… didn’t happen.

So anyway, I know I am not a liar, and therefore I know that her criticism of me is unjust and… well, a lie. So it shouldn’t bother me, right?

The problem is, she said it in a public forum, where people who know nothing about me (just as she clearly doesn’t) will read it, and then other people will believe I’m a liar, and therefore detestable and… well, you see where I’m going, right?

So there I am, my shaky self-confidence now wobbling like a top running out of steam, and I have m next encounter.

I am not an accomplished public speaker, as you might guess. And I am bad at self-promotion, as you might also guess. But nonetheless, when I was approached with the idea of giving a talk about my writing, after some consideration I realized that yes, I could do that. Writing is one subject (caregiving being another) that I am passionate about, and I can absolute talk about it.

But then I spoke to the woman organizing the event, and she seemed somewhat determined to talk me out of it. I’m not sure why, but I think it’s because she has been made aware of my difficulty speaking in public. Perhaps she is concerned that I will be a spectacular failure at it and embarrass her, since she is the one presenting me. Or perhaps she is being kind, and doesn’t want me to humiliate myself. I’m not sure, but the thing is, the phone call started with me only expecting details about the presentation, and ended with me realizing that it was crazy for me to even consider giving a talk. Of course I will fail; of course I will make a fool of myself and her and everyone will laugh or be uncomfortable or I will forget what I wanted to say or simply pass out from the stress and they will have to call an ambulance and there will be a big write up in the local paper with the headline “LOCAL WRITER MAKES A FOOL OF HERSELF” and…

Whew! Give me a minute… I think I’m having a panic attack…

So, I handled the first lady with an email, telling her in my most diplomatic manner that I did not believe I had done those heinous things, but that if she was dissatisfied I would gladly refund her money. (Even though at the end of her attack she said she would probably go on to read the rest of the books…)

As for the second lady, I have about twelve hours yet before I have to give my final answer on whether or not I will give the presentation. I am leaning strongly toward taking her advice and chickening out. She is probably right, it will end in disaster.

Then again, there is that headline, and the possibility of a pic of me being stuffed into an ambulance… and really, there is no bad publicity, right?