I could start off by apologizing for being such a bad blogger, but heck; you’ve heard it before, more than once. So I can’t see the point in wearing out the typing fingers any quicker than they’re gonna be worn out by repeating myself. Suffice to say, I’m here now for a visit.
In all honesty, out of all the stuff I do on the internet, blogging is the thing I really don’t enjoy. It seems crazy to get on here and talk, when I’m not particularly good at it. I don’t even pick up a phone that often, because I never have anything to say. Why would writing a blog be any different? Regardless of my lack of something to say… here I am.
I thought today I’d give a little insight into myself. Not that I’m particularly interesting, but I was reading a book this week and the main character really annoyed me. Really, really annoyed me. She was full of self-doubt, worried about what others thought of her, assumed what others thought of her and wouldn’t put herself out there because of ‘what might happen’.
Why didn’t I like her? Well, beside the fact that she drove me nuts, I realized something in a moment of revelation. (I actually get those a lot) She annoyed me, because I could relate to her. She was me. (And no, before you ask, I’m not going to mention which book, because someone is bound to go and read it to see what a neurotic, nervous mess I actually am.)
With this in mind, I thought it might be interesting, if not particularly entertaining for me to give a bit of an insight into D.S. Williams and what makes her tick.
Read at your own peril…
1. I can be obsessive.
When I get a thought in my head, it overwhelms me to the point that I live, breathe and eat the obsession until it runs its course. In the past, this has included hobbies such as stamping (I had to have every piece of equipment available, most of which never got used) and scrapbooking (ditto). My wonderful husband puts up with this craziness and kindly doesn’t mention the whole pile of stuff in my craft area. (Some of which is still in the packets it arrived in.) I don’t do anything by halves. Not ever. For most of my life, I have had an all or nothing approach to every hobby I’ve ever taken on.
2. I’m not confident.
This is a tricky one, because to the outside world, I can appear very confident. My wonderful husband says I have an ‘exterior’ I put on for the world, assuring everyone I can do everything I put my mind to. It’s an illusion, people. On the inside I’m a quivering mass of indecision, indecisiveness and inability to see my own qualities as anything particularly useful or good. A friend told me that she and I are similar, in that to the world, we are graceful swans, floating across the lake and looking elegant and poised. What the world doesn’t see, is that beneath the water, we’re paddling like we’re bat-shit crazy to keep afloat. I thought it was a wonderful euphemism for how I feel about my life.
3. The voices in my head talk to me… constantly.
A lot of writers would probably say the same, although I don’t profess to know how everyone’s particular desire for writing comes to the fore. For myself, the characters all live in my head. All the time. And when they want their stories told, they keep nagging, usually around the time I’m trying to go to sleep, to make sure their stories are going to be told… NOW!! Which gets pretty tricky when characters from different stories are all trying to be heard instantaneously and don’t care who they’re interrupting. It’s how it’s always been for me, and I don’t imagine it’s going to change. (For the sake of clarity, I have asked my GP and no, I am neither schizophrenic, nor psychotic.)
4. The things that interest me?
Titanic. I was engrossed in the story of the Titanic’s sinking, before it became popular. Every now and again, a story pops into my head about the disaster, but to date it hasn’t come to fruition.
Pompeii. The eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in AD79 has been another long time interest. To know that the city lay buried for all those centuries, the discoveries they’ve made – it’s all utterly fascinating.
Cemeteries. Yep, I’m a cemetery lover. Genealogy has been another (passionate) hobby in the past and gravestones are an amazing thing. I even have a Pinterest board dedicated to gravestones which ‘speak’ to me.
Murder. Not as in ‘the thought of murdering someone makes me go all goosey’ – I’m weird but even I’m not that weird. But the stories of some of the most famous murders in history, particularly serial killers have held a long time fascination. Jack the Ripper, the Black Dahlia, Lizzie Borden, Jeffrey Dahmer… I read everything I can get my hands on.
5. My name is Debbie Williams… and I have a stationery addiction…
Yep, it’s true. I am addicted, utterly and totally to stationery. Notebooks? Can’t resist ’em. Don’t write in them, but that’s by the bye. Who wants to ruin a beautiful notebook by writing in it? That would just be crazy 🙂
Pens? Never met one I didn’t like. Although there’s a huge difference between a ‘good’ pen and a ‘great’ pen. I searched for weeks for the exact pen that the grocery delivery guy had, just because it wrote so beautifully. Finally found them, and now I specifically drive half an hour to buy them from Officeworks. I adore pens. All sorts of pens. My daughter got a huge collection of gel pens in a bazillion different colors for her birthday… and I was jealous. I covet the pens in the bank, hotels, businesses. It’s an illness, I tell ya.
Add to the notebooks and pens my obsession with highlighters, stickers, address books and diaries and you can see why I need to find my local branch of ‘Stationery Anonymous’ and get myself a 12 step program…
So there you have it. A little insight into D.S. Williams. Hardly startling information, but it is a blog post!
Till next time,