How much is just right?
I've been thinking about this so much lately. But really, I've been riding that line my whole life. This week I was invited to KCBX, our local NPR affiliate where I have freelanced, to do an interview about my historical novel Murray. I LOVE interviewing people. I will talk to people for hours just to produce a 5-minute story. I love meeting new people. I love traveling new places. But, I've always been terrible at being interviewed. And so, just like I have with almost any interview in my life, including almost every job interview I've suffered through, I blew this one. I mean, was it TERRIBLE? Put it this way: if it had been an interview for a job, I would not be hearing from them except to hear them say, as I have so many times before, Thanks for interviewing, but...
I saw my friend Joe play music this week, and his performance on stage, just him playing electric guitar and singing into a mic alone on stage, was so raw and beautiful and rocking, that I found myself wiping tears throughout the whole thing (I glanced over at his wife, Cheech, and she was wiping tears from her face too). It was as if he were pouring out all his struggle and grief and hope and fears in a 30-minute set. The whole thing was intense and lovely and cathartic. Afterward, he told me that performing on stage like that feels like purging something. I told him I was reading Susan Cain's book Quiet, and we talked being introverts, how hard it is to perform. But when it comes to music, he said he has to do it, like it's not even a choice. He just has to go through the gauntlet.
Later Joe and I continued the conversation through email, discussing how we might be wasting time on things that ultimately don't feel good even though they might seem like they are good for our careers or personal growth. We both questioned whether these things were things we had to get better at doing, or whether they were things we should give up and let go and say no to, to save time and energy and emotion for the really truly important, rewarding work we're both more capable of and happier doing. I told him that maybe this bad interview I had was just a sign that I'm not meant to be interviewing. Maybe like two of my favorite writers, Cormac McCarthy and Donna Tartt, I needed to say no to any press. I could just focus on the writing... Joe wrote back that he was heading toward doing only what he was good at, but what a long weary road it had been:
"I continue to push my comfort zones, but I believe I pay more attention to the feedback they give me these days. Each time I go too far it gives me that signal to change direction a bit. It takes failures to get me to really commit and believe my heart. I just wish I was a quick study ... the failures are stacking up! Yes, we continue to make squirrely decisions...part of the journey."
When I was in my 40s and teaching at Cal Poly, the play The Vagina Monologues came to Cal Poly. Even though teaching was already a highly stressful job for me--I was not a natural orator or confident in front of a classroom--I thought I needed to branch outside my comfort zone, and decided to audition. On the given day, I walked in to a room with two beautiful, confident Cal Poly students, about 19 or 20 years old, holding clipboards. They told me to read from a scene from a script they handed me. I did.
When I finished one of them said, "OK, thank you. Now we'd like you to act having an orgasm." I wanted to say, "No problem, Honey, I've been acting that my whole life." But rather than make a quip or excuse myself from the audition, which is what I really wanted to do, I launched in to what I hoped would be a very well-acted, convincing orgasm. It might not as compelling as Meg Ryan's in "When Harry Met Sally"--I didn't have a table to slap--but I gave it my all.
After I finished my performance, I opened my eyes and looked up at them. They were both frowning and writing on their clip boards.
"Thank you," one of them said without looking up. "We'll let you know."
I walked out completely humiliated, more embarrassed than I'd been in decades. In that moment, I realized: It might be better not veer so far from your comfort zone!
They did not call me back.
UPDATE: When the KCBX interview aired, I let myself listen. And although I bumble a little, it was not half bad! A friend texted me while it was airing: "Currently listening to your Murray interview! Love it! Telling everyone to listen. And of course, loved the book." Here's the interview if you want to judge for yourself. The interview starts around minute 6.
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