Curdled Awesome Sauce

Man standing wearing a protective bee suit

What is it about pending horse shows that bring out deep emotion in me? If ya figure it out, could you wisen my brain box?

See, at present I should be packing the car. My daughter has her last 4H show — ever *cries* — and she and I are leaving town for four days. In preparation, I had  blog post written, locked and loaded so I could awaken and head down the road. Then a deep uneasiness set in and necessitated this hasty post. 

What brought this about? A combination of things, symbolized by my new website, which I was to announce today. That’s right, peeps. I’ve purchased my dot ca domain and put up a placeholder site as a means to refer people here.  (Don’t bother looking. I’ve taken it offline for the present.)

My website’s pretty, I worked hard to make it so, and people use vanity sites all the time; but my Imposter Syndrome is flaring and whispering that I’m all sauce and no sizzle. (I modified the saying because I’m vegetarian, dontcha know?)

When I get back, this…regrouping will spawn a few blog posts.  In the meantime, have you had a time in your career — writing or otherwise — where you’ve barreled down the road, windows open to admit the sweet, sweet, summer air, only to reconsider when you drive past a farm that keeps bees?

Someone possibly more important than you. 😉

Please share in the comment section below! Just know one thing: I’m going rural, folks. Deep rural. Which is to say, I may not be able to see your replies or respond until Tuesday. Doesn’t mean I don’t care, but rather, contrary to popular opinion, even the Tart cannot fight spotty Internet access.


4 thoughts on “Curdled Awesome Sauce

  1. Curses on that sneaky Imposter Syndrome, taking advantage of your vulnerability brought on by big life changes. Quick–toss the fiend into the nearest pile of horse manure and let it get shoveled away.

    You’ve made huge strides in just the last couple months, Jan, what with your unboxing and unpeeling. It’s only natural to take a step back and look at your progress. And as an old boss of mine used to say, if thinking about what you’re doing doesn’t make your palms at least a little sweaty, you’re not pushing yourself hard enough.

    I fell off the writing horse in June, not moving stuff from my brain to paper. But thanks to the Tarts and July goals, I opened my MS last night and started seeding in the subplot. Hurray for the online support system.

    Begone, IS! We’ve got work to do here.

  2. I know what you mean. That nagging sense of uneasiness that tells me that I don’t know what I’m doing, I only think I know what I’m doing, and it’s really not true and people will tell immediately. I’m heading to a music festival — my first — in a matter of a week and I am nervous because I did not get serious about my music until a year and a half ago or so. I guess I’m afraid that people will think that I am an impostor know-it-all who really doesn’t know anything.

  3. Like many parts of me, my IS is a great procrastinator. She fails to notice how hard I’m working until it’s all been said and done and sometimes put into print. Then I’ll review some of my own material from months or years ago and she’ll whisper, ‘did we really create that? Because that’s amazing. It’s so good it can’t possibly be your work.’ At least she’s a fan (I think.) It sometimes requires looking at my original material to convince her. Then she goes back to her tea and crumpets, ignoring me until it’s time to rain on my parade once again.

  4. MJ, so glad to hear you’re back working on your own writing. As for the IS, you’re 100% right about what’s predisposed me to it. Gosh, it’s sneaky. Thankfully, with time, the Tarts and a little perspective, I’ve foiled it for another while. Mwoohahaha.

    (((Abby))) Hope your festival went well. There will always be people who think we haven’t paid our dues or earned whatever success we earn, and trust me, that applies no matter what risk you’ll take. And as far as I’m concerned, having the guts to sing in public is a HUGE marker of bravery.

    Phyllis, ha! Your IS definitely has a different MO than mine. You sound like you’ve learned to deal with her using humor, though. Good for you!

    As for me, peeps, the time away flew. I’m very glad I went, yet thrilled to be home. More to come as I get back into the groove.

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