Can you spot the imposter in the picture? Couldn't pass up a chance to include a guinea pig in my post!

My daughter recently got an internship with a big NYC literary agency. It is exactly the internship and the kind of job she wants and she is thrilled. Busy, stressed, but thrilled.

It’s all “virtual” in that she still lives in her apartment near the LSU campus and is taking classes, but she works two or three days for the agency, reading manuscripts they send her and stuff like that. All online.

Last week, she had a conference call for something they call “Intern Academy.” It’s apparently a chance for the interns to ask questions about the publishing industry and books and such.

She was totally freaked out by this because, as she said, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” I told her she’s an intern and by definition she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Plus, I said, “I don’t think anyone in any kind of creative, ‘thinking’ job thinks they know what they’re doing.”

I know several multi-published authors who finish a book and are convinced that’s the last one they will ever write. I worked as a Kelly girl for years and I often DIDN’T know what I was doing because it was my first day on the job or sometimes my only day in that office and the training was little to none. But there were other times when I worked some place for months and still often felt like I was just making it up as I went along.

I was in the Army for two years and always felt like I wasn’t REALLY in because I was in the Intelligence and Security Command and after basic training, it wasn’t really very military, and I was terrified someone would realize that I wasn’t really a soldier. To this day, I’m a little chagrined to stand up on Veterans’ Day with all the guys who served in war. I was in during “peace time,” if you can call the Cold War that, and don’t feel worthy to stand with people who literally risked their lives for the country, but that’s a different story.

The point is that EVERYONE, I think, who is doing “skilled” work, sometimes feels like an imposter.

Maybe if you are a dog walker or mow lawns or flip burgers for a living you might not feel that way about your job, but you might feel it about something else.

None of us, I maintain, ever REALLY feels like a grown-up, and therefore, we never really feel like we know what we’re doing.

I know I don’t.

What do you think?

Some of my friends know that I love to sew. I mean, LOVE to sew. I had actually forgotten how much until this weekend.

Our house has this HUGE rec room (30 x 24) and roughly half of is has been taken over by my craft stuff. This includes an old dining room table I “inherited” from my friend when she got a new one. It’s got a burn spot in the middle where she let a candle burn too long and the side leaves don’t stay level with the rest of the table, but it’s great for hard use like to cut out patterns or for craft stuff.

Anyway, over time, because it’s a horizontal surface, it’s become covered with all kinds of stuff – papers, magazines, boxes, whatever.

When my mother died, I inherited all her sewing stuff as I’m the only one in the family interested. My mom was a widow, lived alone and sewing/quilting was her passion. So, now I have a computerized sewing machine and TONS of stuff added to the ton of stuff I accumulated.

At the end of last week, I found myself sitting at the table which has now pretty much been cleared off so I can use it to take pictures for my Etsy shop and just to show my husband that there actually is a use for it other than as a landfill! I pulled out a length of fabric from on of the five cabinets he bought me to store my stuff. I decided to make something out of it, so the next day I went to Hancock Fabrics and got a blouse pattern for myself and a pajama pattern for Noah. I KNOW there’s a lot of stuff I bought to sew for him.

Yesterday, I spent the whole day playing with my fabric and rediscovering projects I’d forgotten about. I found a dress I cut out for myself years ago, which was all ready to go, and started working on it.

I realized that there was only half the instructions and started to panic. Then I calmed down and thought, “Hey, I’ve been sewing almost 40 years. I know how to do this. I don’t need the instructions. I wasn’t really reading them anyway; just looking at the pictures.”

I think I need to think this way more often in my life. I know what I’m doing and I shouldn’t let the lack of confidence paralyze me. In fact, I shouldn’t even have this lack of confidence. The worst thing that could happen is that I make a mistake and toss the dress, and where’s the loss then? I didn’t remember I had it; I don’t know how long those pieces have been waiting for me; no one would be hurt.

It’s the same with everything. Take a chance, trust yourself, and you might be surprised what you can do.

Recently a few of us on one of the writers’ loops I’m on were discussing how we, as writers, are different than other segments of the population. Specifically, we were talking about how non-writers are always amazed at how we can create a book or “think up all those words.” It kinda came as a revelation to me that some people don’t have stories in their heads.

I have run into a few people in my life who are not creative or don’t have the “creativity gene.” Those people are always impressed by the littlest things like the time I took a peanut jar and turned it into a vase by wrapping the paper that came with the flowers around it and tied it with a piece of string or yarn. The owners of the home we were staying in (and to whom Beloved and I were giving the flowers) were truly stunned. In fact, the wife actually asked where the vase had come from because they didn’t have any.

I was the one who was stunned because it truly was nothing, and in my mind, totally not creative at all.

Anyway, this past week I have been engaging in art projects that I never thought I’d do. My sister-in-law is visiting my in-laws from California. She is an artist, and makes her living at it. She paints murals for homes and businesses and is always expanding her wings and looking for new projects.

Her art is very tactile and visual – painting, jewelry making, some sculpture. Outside of writing, which is my main form of art, I deal with fabric and threads – sewing, cross stitch, knitting.

Anyway, for this visit, she decided to get the whole family involved in an art project. To be honest, I wasn’t sure that’s how I wanted to spend my weekend. Weekends, to me, are: Writing on Saturdays and relaxing (cross stitching) on Sunday. My weeksdays are generally too busy for me to do any reading or stitching so I look forward to the weekends for that.

However, once I started making the mosaic flower pots, which was what we all did, I found that I loved it. I actually made two. Here is the second one I made. I don’t have a picture of the first one,

[caption id="attachment_386" align="aligncenter" width="252" caption="Santa getting ready to do his thing."][/caption]

Since moderation is not a word I’m all that familiar with, I immediately began planning all sorts of pots in my head. Halloween, Mardi Gras, Easter, gifts for people, etc., etc.

In the midst of all this creativity, I talked to my brother on the phone. I thought about making a pot for his wife for Christmas so I asked him about it.

He said, “She doesn’t like arty things.”

This kinda surprised me because she is a musician and a teacher. She is heavily involved in performing in several professional musical organizations and I always equated that with just another form of creativity. Every writer I know does other kinds of art as well, Several members of our local RWA chapter paint and others, like me, do needlework. I always associated creativity and passion in one area of the arts with interest in other areas.

The family discussed this and we hypothesized that possibly my brother’s wife is not a visual person. Maybe she gets her joy from auditory stimulation, where I get mine from what I can see and touch.

This would explain why, when we were cleaning out my mother’s apartment after she died, my sister-in-law wasn’t interested in many of the things my mother collected, while I was snatching up every one I could. I like seeing things around me that hold memories. I like knick-knacks and framed family pictures on he wall.

This difference is not a bad or a good thing, but it is just surprising to me because up until now, I never realized there was a difference.

What about you? Are you a more visual person or are you more auditory?