I Hate Crowds- Life of a Writer

Every year I’m reminded that I’m more suited to the life of a writer. I hate crowds. And just thinking about the holiday shopping season, especially Black Friday, makes my skin crawl. And since most great writers of the 20th and 21st centuries were either hermits, or should have been hermits, I realize I have something in common.

Now, I’m by no means considered a hermit. I love my friends, I spend an incredible amount of time with my family (and I love it!), and I don’t have panic attacks when I’m out in public with more than ten people around me.

I love movie theaters (not necessarily waiting in line to buy tickets or watch the next blockbuster), and my fondest memories of childhood involve swimming and diving meets where an insane amount of people are all crammed into a sweltering natatorium cheering on teammates.

But I can’t stand crowds. Not because I’m afraid, but because I lose all patience with the shove of a shoulder. I become not just the wicked witch, but the EVIL witch with the shotgun temper and lead-foot.

While the individuals in a crowd may be nice, gracious, and loveable people, the crowd itself is rude, impatient, thoughtless, and brutal. The epitome of a mob. As evident on Black Friday every single year, we witness these horrible people on the news every time. Crazy crowds with guns, bats, and pepper spray. All for the sake of stupid toys or electronics that may not even be that great of a ‘deal.’

The creation of online shopping has been a gift from the tech industry. I’m sure this has been every writer’s greatest gift in the last decade, as well as their greatest crutch. Anything to allow me the convenience of continuing my love of shopping while avoiding the crowds I detest, I will glorify.

I don’t see myself becoming a hermit at any point in my life, but I can totally understand why a lot of great writers were. And whatever reasons they may have had for living that way back then, the sad thing it’s probably much worse in today’s age. People are crazier, meaner, and could care less about others.

Another tick in the ‘Upsides of a Writer’ column.

Life Throws Curveballs

And I already suck at batting. So this is just more of a humiliation to suffer through nasty curveballs.

It really hurts to say it, but I need to suspend writing for a while. I’m not sure for how long, but that means I will not be able to complete National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I got half way through it with a lot of momentum still in me, but sometimes we have to adjust to an ever-changing life.

My disappointment can hardly be expressed in words, and not just for the suspension of one of my passions. Something infinitely more dear to me needs more attention.

I’ll admit one of my weaknesses is fear of failure. Or perceived failure. Or that my best is not good enough. And as irrational as that concept is, I can’t help but internalize certain situations that don’t go as I’d hoped or expected. And even worse is when I believe someone else is suffering because of my actions or inactions.

I have the best support system in the world: my family. My friends. Which is why, ironically, it hurts more to ask them for help. If I’m surrounded by so many wonderful people with incredible talent, it’s bound to rub off on me and/or my family. So why would I need help?

Stupid thoughts, I know. But in moments where I need to vent, this is where my mind wanders. And I realize that I will have considerably less time to myself to vent, let alone catch a breath.

Since I’ve struck out during this round at bat, beset by the nasty curveballs, I’ll lick my wounds and change into a cleaner set of clothes. Ready for the next set of curveballs, or sliders, that I’m certain will be thrown at me again very soon. I just hope my passion for writing will still be there when I’m ready.