Nancy Newren, Master Editor
If you want to know more about Art of the Written Word you’re on the wrong page. If you want to know more about me, you might be on the wrong page for that too.
You see, I’ve been wondering (for a freaking year and a half) why it is so difficult for me to write my own about page. No problem writing others for others, but my own? Forget about it. No really. Please. They’ve all been really bad. I’ve had lists of my accomplishments, places I’ve worked, my favorite colors (pink, green, light & medium purples, royal blue, and most metallics), and at one point I even said, “I’m just a regular gal…” but nothing could be farther from the truth. I am definitely NOT a regular gal. I’m, I’m…
And then it dawned on me after reading Johnny B. Truant’s about page: I don’t know who I am AND I don’t really care. It doesn’t bother me except for when people ask me to describe myself. “A sassy single chick out to live a life of adventure (Hey, reading can be an adventure!) and mischief!” doesn’t seem to satisfy them either. And something about my spelling mistakes bothers people. Maybe it’s the “Master Editor” title I gave myself.
So I’m not really sure what I am. I love writing, editing, and reading, though I hope that would be an obvious one. I’m really good at soccer. I LOVE playing soccer. The world seems to fade away and it’s just me, the ball, my team, our opponents, the annoying ref, the score keeper, the crowd, and the current unpleasant temperature.
I love buying new clothes, except for when I have too many. Guys who own more pairs of shoes than I do impress me because, including my soccer shoes, I only have 10-12 pairs of shoes. I should buy more shoes.
I spend what some people would deem as way too many hours playing video games with my little brother, watching movies with my friends, playing with my nieces and nephews, reading completely irrelevant books, and day dreaming… and every hour is totally worth it!
I love hiking, and camping, mostly in mountainous areas and only with my family and close friends. I love trees and conservation. And I love making fun of people, good-humoredly — if you make a funny mistake around me I will jump on it and won’t let it go. Like when my older brother gave a cashier $2 (that’s two, one dollar bills) for something that cost 65 cents. He immediately turned to me and said, “Don’t say anything.” His finger pointed and everything. All innocent like I said, “Who me? Me say anything? I won’t say anything… Oh yeah, 65 cents… How many dollars is that again?” Then proceeded to tell everybody about it. Good times.
I love my family, my friends, my God. I talk to God a lot and we have a lot of interesting conversations. Sometimes I just talk to myself when there is no one interesting around to talk to. Stimulating conversation.
I also crochet, paint (with my fingers mostly), draw… I’m a really good mathematician and I’m teaching myself Java. I’m also kick-ass at retail. I’m kick-ass at most things I put my mind to.
But it doesn’t define me. None of it does. I don’t know how to define me. Most of my life I’ve spent trying to figure out just what to do with my life because I never had any one thing that really defined me. Not even just two or three. My name isn’t even sufficient to the task of definition, though it does its best. When I asked a high school friend to describe me (It was for an art project. We were supposed to draw what we were.) she said, “You’re Nancy: kind of like the sun, all bright and sunshiny. Even when there are clouds you’re still bright and yellow.” I don’t know about the yellow part, but at least I’m usually bright.
I know I’m part of Johnny’s tribe. I fit right in with his crowd. I’m also part of Anisa’s, Leslie’s, and Brian’s. I fit in a lot of places. There are a lot of places I don’t fit. I can tell you some things I’m not: I’m not into hunting, the news, cleaning, being mean, bullying, or bad writing. But that only tells you what I am not. Not what I am.
Man, I hate to do it, but I feel like stealing Johnny’s line – or maybe he stole it from me by traveling back in the time warp and made me think I’m doing the stealing: “And when you figure out who or what exactly I am, be sure to let me know.”
You can start finding out who I am by reading all the crap I put on this site that, as it turns out, is apparently really useful, interesting, encouraging, inspiring, or at least entertaining. And if it turns out that you vibe with me and you want to hear more from me sign up for The Newsie, or if you want to hire me, please do. But if it turns out that we don’t vibe then that’s okay too.
And well, when you’ve figured out that I can’t be figured out, (Literally I believe only God knows.) don’t worry about it. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe if you were able to define me it would irrevocably damage the time-space continuum and we’d all be thrown to a dimension where we’d be chased by dinosaurs with incredibly short arms, have to eat insects to survive, have no indoor plumbing or air conditioning, and there wouldn’t be any books (GASP!!), or blogs (Double gasp!) to read so we wouldn’t be able to escape that cruel, cruel world. Yeah, we’ll have to let “defining Nancy” go. It’s okay.
Maybe you relate. Maybe you’re multitalented, a good writer or soccer player, you enjoy making fun of people, and/or you can’t define yourself either. Then leave me a comment below and connect with me on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, or YouTube. It’s nice to know you’re not alone. It’s also nice to not be alone, especially on Facebook. It’s no fun messaging yourself about dinosaurs with short arms.
That’s it for now.