Lighten up, people!
Maybe it's the season, with all that residual back-to-school feeling of needing to buckle down, but doesn't it seem that everyone is taking themselves way too seriously lately?
We have a polarizing political season. Facebook posts are shrill and preachy. Workplaces are edgy. Restaurants are pretentious. Sneers have replaced smiles. And everyone takes offense at the slightest slight.
Quick, please, someone throw a cream pie!
I'm just as guilty as anyone in this overseriousness. (Overseriosity?) I get crotchety when others ignore things I think are important, such as punctuation and pedestrian rights of way, and I'm far too glum about aging.
So let's all just take a step back and start to lighten up by stating what we do in the simplest, least pretentious way possible.
You're not a Chef; you feed people.
You're not an Artist; you make pretty things.
You're not an Attorney; you make sure people follow the rules.
And I'm no Author; I tell stories.
This Sunday, I'm participating in Brandylane Publishers' Book Bask, a wine-and-snacks party that will feature six of us authors - er, story-tellers - talking about our books. Some of these books have serious topics, so I figure it's up to me and the totally unserious Fish-Eye Lens to add some levity. To that end, I'm starting off my 15-minute slot with some audience participation.
Can't figure that one out? Well, if you're in Richmond, come on over to Book People, 536 Granite Ave., at 2 p.m. to see what colored index cards and Scotch tape have to do with telling stories.
Maybe it's the season, with all that residual back-to-school feeling of needing to buckle down, but doesn't it seem that everyone is taking themselves way too seriously lately?
We have a polarizing political season. Facebook posts are shrill and preachy. Workplaces are edgy. Restaurants are pretentious. Sneers have replaced smiles. And everyone takes offense at the slightest slight.
Quick, please, someone throw a cream pie!
I'm just as guilty as anyone in this overseriousness. (Overseriosity?) I get crotchety when others ignore things I think are important, such as punctuation and pedestrian rights of way, and I'm far too glum about aging.
So let's all just take a step back and start to lighten up by stating what we do in the simplest, least pretentious way possible.
You're not a Chef; you feed people.
You're not an Artist; you make pretty things.
You're not an Attorney; you make sure people follow the rules.
And I'm no Author; I tell stories.
This Sunday, I'm participating in Brandylane Publishers' Book Bask, a wine-and-snacks party that will feature six of us authors - er, story-tellers - talking about our books. Some of these books have serious topics, so I figure it's up to me and the totally unserious Fish-Eye Lens to add some levity. To that end, I'm starting off my 15-minute slot with some audience participation.
Can't figure that one out? Well, if you're in Richmond, come on over to Book People, 536 Granite Ave., at 2 p.m. to see what colored index cards and Scotch tape have to do with telling stories.