In case you don’t know me, I’m Polly and I write. And I have no problem saying that.
“But Polly,” you might be thinking, “You’re a dog. Why would you write? Shouldn’t you be chasing squirrels or barking at Amazon delivery people?”
Been there, done that. I’m 18 years old, about seven scrawny pounds, and I:
- chased my share of rodents (and UPS drivers);
- almost got snatched up by a hawk (twice!);
- hiked parts of the Appalachian trail;
- was an on-air, minor celebrity at a community radio station AND a star fund-raiser (yes, you can read it all in my bio).
After all that I think I’ve earned my sassy moniker, a quieter life, and my own platform.
As for the writing, well, everyone needs to feel as if they have a purpose in life, right? It’s part of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.
I had a soft bed, plenty of kibble, and adoring fans. I knew it was time for something more. It was time to share, and maybe give back a little.
Oh, and earn a bit of coin to pay for all that heart medicine I’m on.
Let me explain.
Just like many people, my mom “writes” too.
- Little snippets of brilliance here and there, scribbled on the backs of utility bill envelopes or cocktail napkins, inspired by a glass or two of Creativity Juice.
- Essays no one will ever read, that live on a dented USB drive, stuck to the bottom of the kitchen junk drawer.
- Websites that still aren’t live, but cost $21.95 a year every time she renews the URL.
You get the idea.
And it’s all because she won’t hit “publish.”
Why? Because she’s afraid.
- If she lets a typo slip by, people will think she’s careless. Or illiterate.
- If she gets a fact wrong, people will think she’s careless. Or ill-informed. Or . . . an imposter.
- She might make a reader upset or angry.
- She’ll be boring, and put her readers to sleep quicker than a mug of warm milk and Kahlua – I mean, honey.
And the big (illogical) one: Getting cancelled. (News flash, Mom, you need to have readers before they decide to stop reading you.)
Sad, I know. Occasionally she puts a few words out there for people to read – and then she’s shocked when she gets compliments and biscuits. Sometimes someone will say, “Hey, can you do that for me? I’ll even pay you.”
That works out for a little while. Until she gets afraid that they’ll hate everything she wrote and want their deposit back. Which she already spent on her monthly allotment of Creativity Juice.
And the spiral of fear keeps going . . .
But when I write for her? I give her my voice and together we have superpowers.
You see, we’re both sort of old and can be cranky at times, so I take that prickly attitude and wrap it up in sassiness and charm. Instead of sounding like a flea-ridden bag of fur and bones – or, heaven forbid, an arthritic boomer wearing slide-on Sketchers, waving a hiking stick at “those darn kids” – we sound approachable and even maybe a little hip.
But not too hip. Nobody’s falling for that.
Our writing shares stories that are full of adorable slice-of-life imagery. Even “informative” posts are made more memorable, so our readers are entertained instead of lulled to sleep.
If we offer opinions or advice, they don’t sound like lectures because I share good old, little dog common sense. Who can argue with that? *
So, what does this mean for you?
If you just can’t get yourself to hit “publish,” maybe:
- You just don’t have the time. It’s one more thing on your plate to worry about.
- Deep down, you don’t really care about writing. It’s not your thing, but it’s something you need to do for your business.
- You need to find a voice that makes you feel bold and fearless. Not a voice that makes you someone else, but one that empowers you to communicate in a way that makes you irresistibly more of who you already are.
Or maybe you just need a good team to back you up. And no, you won’t sound like a yappy little mutt with a Napoleon complex. I can rein in my innate sassiness and give you a real Belgium Malinois vibe if that’s more your style.
It’s just a thought.
But here’s a final one.
I think it’s sort of like that whole “tree in the forest” thing. If a tree falls and no one is there to hear it, did it make a noise? And, if you write something but no one reads it, did your words change anyone’s life? Did they make someone laugh or cry? Did they bring you any fans? Did they convince a prospective customer that you’re the right one for the job? Did they ultimately make you any money?
They never got the chance.
*Let them argue. No one is ever going to “cancel” or dox me. I’m a dog. Dogs are “fur babies,” loved by everyone. Nowadays, it’s people who think dogs shouldn’t be allowed to slobber all over the bins in the supermarket produce aisle who get cancelled. I also have sharp little teeth and PETA on speed dial. Game over.