To Being on the Fringe

Last night I found Laurell K. Hamilton's blog.  You'd think, since I've been obsessively reading Anita Blake books faster than my fingers can turn the pages, that I knew she had a blog.  Since I finished the last Anita Blake book (I have a been a very bad Dawn and not posting what I've been reading), I've come up for air.

I could start her Meredith Gentry series, and I probably will, but there's another investment in time and money, and my family kinda misses me.  (By the way, I had written "...and I might" and changed it to "... and I probably will.")

So I found her blog last night by way of Amazon.  I quickly moved from the Amazon posting to the actual blog site, and, lo and behold, Laurell has been blogging since 2003.  And I'm reading every single post.  I'm only up to January 2004, but I'm devouring every word.

A few notes

• I feel somewhat obsessed.  I adore her Anita Blake series, and I'm fascinated by the glimpses into her personal life.
• I feel slightly intimidated by her as a writer.  Not because I suck, but because she is so intense.  I love intense, but I'm not at that place yet with my writing.  And maybe I never will be.  I'm not one to just do one thing.  I like variety.  Could I hole up and write book after book after book?  I don't know.  Would I want to?  I don't know.  But there is definitely something about that those who can and do that makes me feel slightly small.
• I wish I could meet Laurell.  From what I know, she sounds like someone I'd like and could connect with.

Here's one piece I wanted to share.  It's very long, but there's no other way to link to just one entry in her monthly archives. 

Richard [a character in the Anita Blake series] is that part of me that hated myself. That part that wanted to be "normal". That part that didn't want to think differently from the vast majority of people on this planet. That part of me that really did cling to the life my up-bringing told me I was 'supposed' to have. I spent a lot of my adult life arguing with myself. Not wanting to like what I liked, enjoy what I enjoyed, or be fascinated by what fascinated me. Not wanting to embrace myself, accept myself. Wanting to reject everything that made me comfortable in my own skin, in my own head, in my own self. Richard is that part of me that is still fighting the good fight. Still trying to pound himself into a square hole, when he is so a round peg. That's why part of me hates Richard, because I still hate that part of myself. It's also why I love Richard, because I've been there, fought the fight, lost the war, and there's no t-shirt, no medal. In the end is only the knowledge of who you are, what you are, and that the things that make you happy aren't evil. You aren't evil for wanting them. And the only person that can stand in judgment of you, is the people you allow to stand in judgment of you. Don't give them that power over you. Don't accept it. Be who you are. I went through therapy to find myself, and not to hate or be ashamed of what and who I am. Richard is at the beginning of his therapy, and that is a frightening, painful place to be. I do not envy him the journey, but I know the destination is worth it, because I'm there. I'm happy. Not only do I embrace who I am, but I get paid good money for some of my 'strange' ideas. The very things that made junior high hell, and high school not my best thing, and made me an outsider during college, and hell, an outsider at every parent meeting, or herd event. I finally realized that I'm not a herd animal. I'm the animal on the fringes watching the herd, and thinking, hmm, did that one limp? Predator sometimes. Sometimes I'm the animal in the tree trying to figure out how to shove a stick in a hole and get the termites out, while the herd passes under that tree. I have friends, and they are my pack, my group, but all my close friends share that odd way of looking at the world. We are the fringe animals, not the ones in the middle following the crowd. And that's okay, it's okay to be the predator, or the monkey in the tree trying to invent a new way of doing something.

From January, 2004, monthly archive.

Comments

[catherine mchenry]

Edit: Par. 1 Strike the "a" in "I have a been"

Otherwise, good stuff. I came over to your blog to find a place for a friend to learn better writing online. I'll recommend you.

Cheers,
/catherine

[Dawn Goldberg]

Catherine,

Thanks for the catch. I try not to obsess over mistakes in my blog posts, but since you pointed it out, I'll happily fix. :)

Thanks also for the kudos. I'm always happy to talk about words and writing!

Dawn