12 frogs

I think this might be the fear social software stimulates.

It’s easy to imagine how this happens. There is something about apps with “friends” or the text entry box on a wiki or blog that can feel like being called up to the board to solve a problem in front of everybody — it’s that trapped in junior high feeling. And I think it’s safe to say for most of us, well, those weren’t our best years. Avoiding public embarrassment was both paramount and impossible. Of course people will be reluctant to play with anything that tickles that teenaged “oh crap” part of the brain.

I also think it’s why you see those [deleted] notifications on flickr: people put something out there, freak out, and take it back. (I get it, I’ve considered doing it myself, but so so far I’ve resisted. Uploading my sunburn may or may not have been a good idea, but oh well, I did it. The 365 days project is an interesting beast that way.) All those “you’ll never get another job again” media stories don’t help, telling us Google will remember every foolish webbified thing we’ve ever done for all eternity.

Thing is, I’m human, so I’m going to do it anyway.

We make things harder than they need to be when we deny our need to fuck up and try again, when we insist on punishing every misstep — even when we’re just doing it in our own heads. I don’t post as often as I used to. No tirades about the pope and socks. (The lack of weapons in the mail posts is, really, a good thing: my family now drives up to Augusta when they send me things UPS.) The snark and the New England Gothic isn’t the point, writing more about what’s on my mind is. Maybe I’ve gotten too careful, and that annoys me.

The danger of knowing better

Sometimes I spend too long thinking about the post I need write until that spark of an idea fades into a “want to” instead of “need to” and gets buried in a crappy to do list, never to be crossed off. Then I see something like this, a kid’s drawing of a computer laptop with keys for electronic pets, and think… I used to do stuff like that. Okay, not keyboards. Robots. I few years ago, I found a drawing of mine my Mom saved — it was bright and scratchy and red and I had labeled it My robot. It inspires me to ask two questions:

• It’s the twenty-first century, where the hell is my robot? How is a fucking roomba the best we can do here? It’s a glorified hockey puck.
• Why don’t I draw like this anymore? No, I don’t mean literally with crayons. Though, hey, crayons are cool and I do have some here in the house. I mean: Why is it so damn hard to make time for unfettered creativity and be fearless enough to put it out there?

The answer might be that I know better now. [You robotics specialists, get on the first question, will ya? And don't just focus on creepy jogging hobbit-sized things.] I don’t draw very well, and I’m self-conscious enough to care now. I don’t believe I’m going to construct some awesome gadget. I’m not going to throw a blanket over the table, repurpose a toy for my control panel, and fly off in a rocket ship… but maybe I should. Then I should blog it.

Shitty first drafts

Anne Lamott, who writes nonfiction that makes me snicker and makes me cry, talks about shitty first drafts [warning: link is to a pdf, but small file and worth it] in Bird by Bird. See why I love her:

I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much. We do not think that she has a rich inner life or that God likes her or can even stand her. (Although when I mentioned this to my priest friend Tom, he said you can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.)

When I read this, I feel itchy but hopeful about what I’m not doing, even though I’m not sure what that is. Very annoying, really. I can do more to be figuring it out, though. Like cranking out a few ‘wtf was I thinking’ posts to get ideas out of my head so they can breathe and walk around in the world. Drawing new pictures. Taking more photographs. Being even less fearful, and yes, being more stupid.