For a while there, multitasking was the buzzword for success. Women could have it all — career, marriage, kids, friends, hobbies, beauty — through the magic of multitasking. But like shoulder pads and greed and everything else that “worked” in the ’80s, it turns out cramming a thousand things into every single moment is actually a pretty bad thing.
Friend via text: How have you been?
Me: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
Friend: That quote feels familiar…?
(Charles Dickens rolls in his grave.)
Recently, a friend mentioned in passing that she’d written a review for my book, “The Name of the Game.” I hadn’t even realized she’d read the book, let alone left a glowing review. I thanked her and apologized for not acknowledging it earlier.
Then I had to admit an awkward truth: I don’t read reviews. At least not anymore.
Feedback is the broccoli of writing. I know it’s good for me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
Even though I grew up in the South, I spent most of my time there avoiding country music. As an aspiring writer, I just couldn’t connect with the lyrics of saloon tunes like “Achy Breaky Heart” and “Boot Scootin’ Boogie.” But over time, I came to realize that those silly line-dance songs were actually outliers in a genre full of rich storytelling.