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Introversion

How Introverts Gain Visibility by Tackling Writer’s Block 

A Personal Perspective: Here’s to sending your inner critic out for coffee.

Sara/Pexels
Sara/Pexels

More than a year ago, I collaborated with an impossibly gifted writer/actor/video expert named Michael Kinney on a video in which he played my inner critic, Ludley. This is an open letter to Michael since I dropped the ball on our working relationship. The video was to accompany a proposal for a second book I struggled to write.

Dear Michael,

I’m ashamed of how long it’s taken me to follow up. I loved, loved collaborating on a teaser video for the book proposal I was wrestling with for Top Ways Not to Bore Your Virtual Audiences Silly: How to Dazzle on Zoom (et al.).

Remember the literary agent Maude [a nickname as are all names in this post]? She was psyched about my book idea and said she could “sell” it to publishers once I sent her a formal proposal. After a year, I finally completed that proposal, which included several chapters of the book plus our five-minute teaser video.

She was so excited that now she’s up and retired.

Why did I take so long? Writer’s block.

Writing has always been my biggest challenge – harder even than self-promotion for this introvert. Also, I got distracted by personal emergencies. One included my father dying. He left me feeling I should reach for the stars: If I couldn’t win the Nobel/Pulitzer-You-Name-It Prize, I shouldn’t bother. It’s easy to blame parents. However, it feels more alive to defy their projections.

I dusted off the names of three other agents who approached me – a dozen years ago when they pursued me.

But now? “Nancy, who?”

I ran the names of the three agents by my agent – if I can still call Maude that. I told her I pissed off the Plan B one, Ludmilla, when I turned her down for the less fancy Maude. Maude said she’s known Ludmilla for decades and that she always sounds pissed, but she’s just passionate. We checked Ludmilla’s Fancy Literary Agency website: She’s no longer taking on new books.

Plan C: Simon, who approached me 15 years ago. From a Google search, he’s still in business. His website states a “don’t call us, we’ll call you” policy and that authors can submit “cold” but should never, ever, follow up.

Agents are like that. After Maude said Simon looked impressive, I submitted my proposal to him.

Weeks went by. Nada.

Now we’re at Plan D, Rory, who reached out to me back when. I pinged him on LinkedIn. Ten weeks later, nada. I’ve been ghosted by more important people.

Harder to admit: Maude sent my proposal to agents in her circle before I groveled my way down the Old Agent Reachout path.

One wrote they were trying to sell a similar book idea – without success.

Another wrote that the idea sounds more like a magazine article.

Yet another wrote that the time to have come out with this book was the start of COVID-19.

Back to you, Michael. I buoyantly created that video with you promoting a book that may never happen.

I still loathe social media, so I’ll never be an influencer. I’m not even on Instagram. Should I aspire more to TikTok? So, I don’t know about this introvert selling a book on her own. Or paying the equivalent of college tuition to have someone pretend to be me and sell it for me.

Of course, first, I need to write the balance of the book. Maybe I should autogenerate it with the AI chatbot phenomenon chatGPT. While my head is in the cyberclouds, maybe I can find an avatar to sell the book for me. Yo, AgentGPT!

I’m still not up for self-publishing. Why? Ludley is a snob. Yes, I know a zillion authors and can ask for introductions to their agents. I introduced many to Maude over the years. But she never “bit.” The Fussbudget Agent Theory is confirmed. They’re always looking for something else. I got lucky to have Maude, Ludmilla, Simon, and Rory knocking at my door ages ago.

I miss you playing my inner critic with humor – and regret having replaced you with the real McCoy over the past year while my fingers froze on my keyboard. While waiting for Maude to retire.

I’m going out on a limb, sharing a glimpse at this teenage diary rant-whine. I feel exposed, yet this is a stretch that is worth making.

I’m taking a risk to be vulnerable, even as a quiet introvert – in case others can relate, offering this letter to possibly touch a heart, a mind.

I miss you as my inner critic. What do you say?

With gratitude,

Nancy

Armin-Rimoldi/Pexels
Source: Armin-Rimoldi/Pexels

PS to self:

Ludley, go for coffee for a few minutes (so I can’t hear you trying to drown me out).

Here’s what I know Michael relates to: When I’m asked how long it took me to write Self-Promotion for Introverts, I jokingly reply 40 years. But it’s no joke. I’m wailing inside. Then there’s the self-promotion piece. I know I wrote a book on that – especially for introverts. Like me, Michael, and half the population. So, I have all the answers? No. I’m not suggesting “do as I say.” Instead, like many things, self-promotion, especially for introverts, is a work in progress, not “one and done.”

It takes feeding the beast – or, better, remembering your gifts, and getting out and offering them. Fine, from the comfort of your keyboard or Zoom. Don’t let fear be the reason you’re not getting where you want to go and serving those who need your gifts.

Here’s my checklist to get back on track when Ludley fusses at me:

  1. Inhale, exhale.
  2. Feel my feet on the ground.
  3. Focus on something other than my inner chatter and replace negative messages with something productive, claiming that mind real estate for something more alive – that blossoms and bears fruit.

Let’s share in that bounty.

Oh, hi, Ludley. Thanks for the coffee. Could you go back and add some sugar to that?

2023 (c) Copyright Nancy Ancowitz

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