I’m not a private person, after six sons and living in a small town, nothing in my life is private. Being a big mouth broad doesn’t help either. I’m taking a marketing class designed for writers. Most taking the class are already published, I of course am not and I almost did not take the class. Add in a hateful three days with Yahoo, then I read the first five lessons and have no clue what I’m even reading and I think, now why am I here? I wanted to cry. I wanted to quit but I’m just stubborn enough and serious enough about writing that I went back and tried again. This time I broke it down and tried to think what it really meant. I did some soul searching and I wish I’d have taken this class twenty years ago. I might be a published writer by now. Here are some of my observations and some of my progressions.
If I had a brand, it would probably be a happy face with a tongue sticking out and a dragonfly on top, something silly like that. No I’m just kidding, well almost. I like to laugh and have fun. When I first looked at this I thought, I’ll just tell her about our family motto: “If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bull shit.” We’ve lived by this, although my mom fusses and says, “Daddy never taught me that.” I tell her, “That’s because he was using it on you.” I come from a long line of story tellers and bull shitters. ( A lot of bull shitters)
I’m a college drop out. I have attended five colleges, some of them twice. I still don’t even have a degree. I could probably petition the college for at least an associate degree, probably have enough for a bachelor of art but it’s just a piece of paper and unless I’m going to use if for work or for furthering my education, what does it really mean? I’ve never quit learning or taking classes, or searching for answers. A diploma might give me a bit of courage dealing with the upper echelon I associate with but most accept me as I am, diploma or not.
But this class is whopping my butt. It is letting me know that I’m not a college graduate and maybe I should just scurry back to my little hole and pull the grass and twigs over it and hope no one notices the country mouse hiding in here.