Warning: this is long, even for me. It might help if you read it as fast as it has poured out – imagine a breathless English woman speaking far too rapidly to be entirely normal. You’ll get to the end faster and it’ll be more authentic.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve felt like there’s a lesson that the universe is trying to teach me. But mostly I’ve been thinking that I’m just mad and that I should just carry on as normal. “Nothing to see here Em, move along.”
Then I spoke to my best friend about it. I asked her if I could tell her about this stuff so she could tell me if I was being mad. I explained that I couldn’t decide whether I was getting a helping hand from synchronicity – a heads up if you will – or I was making that classic mistake of imposing a pattern onto random noise, and thus making something out of nothing. Human beings are extraordinarily good at that after all.
So it started a little while ago. I told the delicious Chris Guillebeau about my competition win over Twitter. I don’t know why – I think it was because I was high on the success and because he has said that he likes hearing about cool news from people. So anyway, he replied saying he couldn’t see a picture of me on my site and wondered why. When I told him that the thought of a picture of my real face online freaks the hell out of me, he said “Nothing to be afraid of, my friend.”
Gentle, touching, personal. That’s Chris, and that’s why we love him. It made me think though. One of the golden rules of appearing to be a real person on Twitter, and on blogs for that matter seems to be “Show your face – be a real person.”
I can’t. I just don’t like my face enough. And anyway, I look at myself in the mirror and am often surprised. “Who the hell is that?” I think, and turn away quick. So to put that image out online seems… counterintuitive. I prefer to show my words instead of my face – they fit me much better.
Then the lovely Alex Fayle from Someday Syndrome put out a call for interviewees, and in a moment of madness I volunteered. I received the questions, then wrestled with them for days and days. They were hard… and personal. I doubted whether I could be brave enough to answer them truthfully. I wondered whether it was madness to put myself in the spotlight of someone else’s community, regardless of the fact that community seems wonderfully supportive. It was scarier than an empty house late at night after watching a horror film.
Then (you still with me?) the quietly marvellous Marc at Welsh Scribe wrote a response to a meme – you know the ones, the “let’s find out more about you” kind. And he tagged me.
I freaked out. Why on earth would anyone do that?! Why on earth would anyone want to know more about me? So I asked him, and he gave a perfectly reasonable (and if I’m honest, flattering) answer that was so non-scary, non-invasive and just, well… nice. And it’s not even like the questions were too deep.
But I still haven’t responded. You guessed it: too scary.
Then (gasps for breath) there was a great post over at Blogging Without a Blog asking whether we would be prepared if our blog hit the big time, and suddenly everyone was watching. I got to thinking…. hell, maybe that would be a bit too scary…
So what about this message, this pattern I mentioned? Well, it’s all about being more visible. And why do I think this is particularly pertinent now? Well, maybe I’m being gently prodded to think about what it would be like if I did get published. What if that happened, and people suddenly saw me for the first time? Would they be happy to just read my book and be done with it? Or would they want to know more than I am willing to share? I keep having an image of my book, published in a six foot tall version, big enough for me to hide behind. It’s my book that I want to be seen, not me.
So, back to the conversation with best matey. “Oh,” she says. “Did you see Havi’s post yesterday? It’s all about this, and she links to you in it.”
You know that bit in films where the hero sees something terrifying, or rather realises something, and they do that cool contra-zoom thing where the background sort of tunnels away at the same time as the shot closes in on their big, wide eyes. Well that was me 20 minutes ago.
My friend wasn’t lying. One of my biggest online heroes wrote a post about this very thing and said I was already doing it just fine.
How weird is that? How cool is that? And, if you’ll permit me, I’ll conclude that the universe was teaching me a lesson, and I am slowly learning it.
I wrote the response to Alex by the way and the interview will be published on Monday. I doubt if I’ll be as brave then as I feel now, especially as the majority of you will be seeing what I look like for the first time.
But right now, right this minute as I type frantically and as I look out on the rain and realise that I will be playing table tennis in less than half an hour and haven’t eaten yet – right now, I think I will be ok if I become more visible. Because all of you (you gorgeous, sumptuous feast of readers who reach the end of my rambling posts), you are showing me that being out there is absolutely fine. I thank you. From the bottom of my quivering, camera-shy heart.
It’s synchronicity. Well, you did say “a heroic quest”, right up there ^ and that’s fighting talk.
I think the universe is tipping you the wink, and that’s a great thing. Enjoy!
Hey Em, I think you’re dandy … no matter who is behind the lightening bolt avatar (besides, I’m really not going to cast aspersions on showing one’s actual face online … glass houses and all that).
BTW, useless fact (because I’m full of ‘em) … the zoom you refer to is called a Vertigo Zoom … because the inestimable Mr. Hitchcock made it famous in the self-same film.
There. You learned something NOT about yourself today.
christy’s last blog post..Putting the “How” in How-To
God, it is hard, isn’t it? But I agree, especially after reading this, that you do appear to be doing it just fine.
(The weirdest part is when other people think that about you when you don’t think so yourself, eh?)
And, btw, I’m totally having this struggle right now too. I’m glad there are other people thrashing around in those waters with me.
fatnutritionist’s last blog post..Holier-than-thou, and getting holier.
I actually think this is a pretty big deal. And, just to be awkward, I’m not convinced that public visibility is okay for everybody. As someone going through a need for anonymity and privacy (hence no posts and little online interaction this week), I trust the urge to retreat. Some of us are built to hang back and watch. It’s a common contradiction that many published novelists have a hard time promoting their own work. A random example: I went to a press conference with Joanne Harris. She was clearly uncomfortable with it and treated every question as an accusation. Personally, I’m with JD Salinger and Thomas Pynchon. There are distinct advantages in the shadows.
Jason Weaver’s last blog post..The story of the writer
You have a beautiful face.
That is all.
Kate’s last blog post..Brida
hmm, you wouldn’t believe how many photos I took trying to get one I could live with for my blog. The one I used is the ONLY one I could live with, and now I have different glasses. Oh, what to do!
Diana’s last blog post..Reposted: 30% off at Etsy
Emma,
It was not difficult at all for me to reach the end of your post – you are writing in such a way that I could not reading!
I liked your avatar on Twitter, and I think you are sharing a lot of you via your posts here on the blog and on twitter, so stick to the avatar if you feel more comfortable with it. On the other hand I must admit that I am curious.
Ulla Hennig’s last blog post..How I changed my Mind about YouTube
Emma,
just noticed the typo: “could not stop reading”!
Ulla Hennig’s last blog post..How I changed my Mind about YouTube
I don’t think you should feel obliged to put a photo up. I know at least one very experienced blogger who doesn’t ever put photos of herself on her site because she doesn’t want people’s judgements of her appearance colouring their judgements of her writing. And not just in terms of naive stereotyping. All of us respond to visual cues in significant and complex ways.
Plus, I get to feel all smug and in-crowdy because I’ve actually seen you and most of your readers haven’t!
This is most definitely synchronicity. Think of it as the Universe’s way of preparing you for the big-time!
I do feel for you – I think being ‘out there’ on the net is pretty scary – perhaps especially so for us ‘stiff-upper-lip’ Brits. So show only what you want to show for the moment, and the rest will follow as you get more practised at it. Havi says it all, really, and I can’t say it better than her!
I don’t know (obviously, not having seen a picture of you) what you look like but I DO know that you have a beautiful soul as it shines through in your writing. And therefore that you will be beautiful to us your readers, no matter what you personally might think of your face. (Don’t forget that most of us hate ourselves in photos. And I’m forever wondering about that ‘other woman’ I catch glimpses of in mirrors and shop windows! That’s not REALLY me, is it?)
Keep on shining, Em …
And so your internet fame begins! Glad I caught you at the beginning of the rise! Woo hoo!
“quietly marvellous” What a great compliment. Thank you!
You sound as introverted as I am Emma. I’ve been hanging around online for about 12 years now. I only uploaded my mugshot a few months ago.
The best bit of advice I can give to you is to trust your instinct and to do what you feel is right.
As for the meme, don’t worry about it. I clearly danced around a couple of the questions myself!
I can understand that those kind of questions can be personable and rather direct but here’s the secret; we’re already getting to know you through your blogging and we’re coming back for more. Doesn’t that tell you something?
Thanks for such great and kind and… well… just scrumptious comments everyone. When I get a proper amount of time (and a cup of tea the size of a baby’s head) I will respond properly. Until then xxx
I have an extraordinarily large cup of tea next to me…
@ Queenie: You’re right, that is fightin’ talk! I find the best way to overcome my fears is to say / commit to things in a moment of madness and then deal with the consequences… I guess this is a good example.
@ Christy – thank you, I’ll put that in the box with other random facts. Apparently it’s also called a ‘Dolly zoom’, and has nothing to do with Barbie whatsoever. I think it’s the camera, or at least something to do with it.
@fatnutritionist – Yes, let’s all thrash together, who knows, one of us might learn how to swim and then save the others ;o)
@ Jason – I think that time away from this stuff is an absolute must. I’m just finding my way through my fear about doing it, because if I ever do end up in the position of that author, I want to have figured out what to do beforehand. And for me it’s also so tied up in mood. Some days I want to light up a room, some days underneath the nearest rock is the only place I want to be.
@Kate – Thank you my lovely, I will try to accept the compliment graciously and not comment upon how you are likely to be rather biased ;o)
@Diana – What to do indeed! At least you managed to settle on one – the photo for Alex’s interview had to be cut from a family photo that I had been coerced into – I couldn’t bring myself to actually have a picture taken for online shenanigans.
@Ulla – I’m glad you like my lightning bolt, I’m very fond of it. And your curiosity will be satisfied tomorrow over at Someday Syndrome!
@ Dom – That’s a fine point you make Sir. And yes, you can be as in-crowdy as you want, as long as you don’t tell everyone about the weird and wonderful things you have seen me wear over the years ;o)
@Caroline – Whoa, that is some seriously nice stuff you’re saying to me there. So nice in fact, that I am reading it and saying “That’s not REALLY me is it?” ;o) Thank you x
@ Alex – That made me laugh, then get nervous… Gah, I can’t take myself seriously for that long, so I’m fine now!
@Marc – It’s a strange paradox isn’t it – I worry about this out loud here, in the open and yet those questions make me nervous. As for what what your coming back for more tells me… hrm, that’s food for thought (though I’m keeping it a long way away from my greedy ego)…
Just read your interview over at Someday Syndrome and it was great. I’m glad that it led me to your blog, which is also pretty darn great. I love the long post; I have a serious long-post-writing problem so I am happy when I see others writing long posts too!
Positively Present’s last blog post..who’s afraid of the big, bad past?
OK. Now I HAVE seen a picture of you.
And I agree with Kate.
Nice interview, by the way! (But come next November I shall be back here reminding you to take more care of yourself over the winter. That pattern definitely needs breaking … )
@ Positively Present – Welcome! How lovely to have someone find me through that interview – it’s a soothing balm for the burning nervousness about it that I’ve felt all day. I keep telling myself to write shorter posts, but it never works out that way, does it?
@Caroline – I’m blushing. Literally. Thank you!
Just saw your pic. Emma you look just like I imagined..you are adorable! Congrats on such a lengthy interview! Whew!
Diana’s last blog post..Practice makes imperfect, part two