I didn’t know how easy it was to post a blog on LinkedIn until early Monday, and I had about 20 minutes to write my first before I had to get the kids up for school.
LinkedIn, through its Kevin Bacon algorithm, reports I have about 1,000,000 potential readers.
I was groggy from the Super Bowl and halfway through my coffee and figured this would be a good Coming Out moment for all the people who knew the old Bill but not the real Bill, it was time.
As with any blog post, I’ll plant hooks and string them together, stop, go back, reread, revise, and keep building. I don’t know how to knit but that’s what it feels like. I probably look like an ant moving things around, from up above.
My post was reeking with realness, wrapped in an imagined LinkedIn voice which is all business, how to make it, but trying to be more than that, trying to be human and resonate, because that’s what gets through, irregardless.
And I read it and realized I didn’t know who the new Bill was yet, really. I wanted this Coming Out to be like see, this is who he really was all along and we just saw a façade, but the truth is, I’d be sharing a draft with 1,000,000 potential job-influencer types. So I saved it and got the kids up and found myself especially cranky. And I doubt I’ll go back to it.
Instead, I went to the library to the reference section and set up shop with the others, in the zen of the library, that protective film from the real world.
And I got a copy of the 2015 Writer’s Market and started reading from the foreword, by a guy who looks like me, bearded, messy hair, sweater. Probably lives in Portland.
I started laughing as my chest swelled and I had to kick myself for taking the easy route my last 15 years or so, by doing what I was good at but not what I liked, which are two very different things.
I went across the street to a bar for a bowl of chili and a beer and watched the rain as Dream Weaver came on overhead, and I had to just soak it up, the thought I could be crossing a street finally, a metaphorical one. I got chills for the first time in a long time — it felt like a Geiger counter going off, a stud finder, a metal detector, we hit something.
When I rewrote my resume the first thing I put at the top was I am a writer, which is the trailhead you need to start from if you’re to get to where you want, or at least enjoy the journey. All other trails just take you farther away.
I touched on this a couple years ago here, too.