I'll Be Signing Autographs...

I tend to start new ventures by imagining that I will become world famous at whatever I’m attempting. This is not confident self-assurance. This is just the goofy way my brain works.

In a few days, I will be submitting one of my blog essays to the University of Dayton-sponsored, Erma Bombeck Writer’s Competition. Already, in my head, I have accepted the prize and published my first book, which of course has received rave reviews and a Nobel Prize for Literature. It’s already in its third edition and has been translated into fourteen languages. I’ve embarked on a lecture tour where I 'll read my work to vast audiences who will nod to one another in agreement over my well-crafted, salient points, and then explode with applause and a standing ovation as I humbly gather my papers and head for the champagne reception.

Two seconds later, I’m thinking, “Who am I kidding? There’s no chance I’ll even get an honorable mention!”

The mind is tricky territory.

So is the fragile psyche of the creative impulse. It feasts on manic swings, going from wildly imagining adulation and celebrity to doing a crash and burn of self-doubt and defeatism.

I have been an artist with widely-acclaimed exhibitions at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. I’ve toured as a tap dancer with the amazing Savion Glover.  I’ve made it on TV as a chef who gives the redoubtable Martha Stewart a run for her money. And I’ve been a fashion designer with spectacular collections worn by aging, yet still glamorous actresses like Helen Mirren and Meryl Streep.

In my head, that is.

The rest of the time my brain is saying helpful things like, “Forget it, loser! You’re a no-talent hack!!”  

Statistics show that a good percentage of highly successful people suffer from this dichotomy of thinking. Even though they might be pulling in six figures and have a penthouse office with 200 staff around them, they actually perceive themselves as frauds who will eventually be found out as know-nothing, lay-abouts whose teachers and parents predicted they wouldn’t amount to much in life.  So, if highly successful people have moments of self-doubt, this means that a stay-at-home amateur writer such as me shouldn’t sweat the occasional dip into the pit of pessimism. A good yank up of the literary bootstraps into the buoyant stratosphere of sunny confidence and optimism is just the remedy.

Hmm, maybe I could be the next Erma Bombeck.

See what happens? As I said, the mind is very tricky territory. I wonder if Erma thought this way when she first started to write.

The always amusing writer and commentator, Erma Bombeck, lived and worked in Dayton, Ohio. The University of Dayton holds a biennial workshop in her name for humor and human interest writers. This year I will attend the workshop for the first time - and hope to learn a thing or two!