As you, my faithful readers, know, I am an amateur neuropsychologist. A student of the brain, as it were. An untrained student, but surely that only leads to freedom of thought. Because of this interest, as I go through my days, I consider brain issues. Thus, when I was listening to the Tanis Podcast (which is excellent by the way, if you don’t mind frequent tangential asides that have nothing to do with anything) and they were talking about mass hysteria, it occurred to me the brain might be to blame.
Here’s my thought. I’d like your (amateur) opinion. Unless there are actual qualified neuropsychologists out there in reader land, which, if so, please chime in. The theory being as follows:
We have fears. Some are of our own devising. Others are manufactured, such as an occult movie that watchers believe will make them lose their mind if they watch it (this, the Tenebras Occulta, was the subject of the Tanis episode, and, in fact, has its own podcast). Such fears are often persistent or, though of limited duration (such as with the movie) intense. The fears pound and pound the brain, assaulting it. The brain knows the fears aren’t real—for example, nothing indicates we are going to catch ALS and lose the use of our limbs—yet they persist. And persist. The brain wards them off for a while, often for a long, long time.
But what if the brain finally gives up? What if it says, okay, you idiot. I know this is just a fear. But if you insist, I will make it so. And whatever we’re afraid of becomes reality. We watch the movie and actually do lose our mind. We fear we will get ALS, and, in the most ironic twist of fate, we do. Or is it irony? Perhaps it’s the brain that eventually mistakes fear for directive.
I shared this theory with my husband as we rode in the red Mustang humming down the highway listening to the podcast (but paused so I could voice my amateur neuropsychiatry theory.) I asked him, do you think that’s possible?
No, he said. If it were a legitimate theory, all the true, professional students of the brain would have discovered it.
But I am a stubborn amateur. And I continue to believe it is a possibility. Do you?
I alternate between super excited and terrified. That’s because it’s both hilarious and super embarrassing, this new podcast I’m about to release.
I mean, a print or e-book is one thing. The reader is safely tucked away in the privacy of their own home, curled in an overstuffed chair, giggling as they read.
With an audiobook, I’m talking to them. My voice is saying things out loud. I am present as they experience my words. They know how I sound. They know ME. It is so personal. That is the mortifying part.
At the same time, the podcast makes me giggle, and I already know the joke.
Season 1 of Ellen’s Very Southern Voice: Novels Told Write launches Friday September . Season 1 features Tracking Happiness: A Southern Chicken Adventure. Each episode has 3-5 minutes of deep background on Chapter 1, Chapter 2, etc. The actual chapter follows. So: me introducing a chapter, followed by the chapter itself. Like an audio book with benefits. Some writer talk. Some truth or fiction? talk. Some random outtakes. Lots of Fun Chicken Facts and Helpful Train Hints.
And, most amazingly, the podcast features an original musical theme written and sung by the incredibly talented Corinne Alexander Sampson. “Get That Chicken Off the Tracks.” If you can’t stand my writing, if humor in a book makes you wanna barf, if you’ve hated me since you first laid eyes on me in the 5th grade, you need to listen to the podcast to hear this theme music.
Season 1: Tracking Happiness: A Southern Chicken Adventure. Join single-again Lucinda Mae Watkins as she takes off on a wild—if slightly ribald—cross-country train ride to clear her dead daddy’s name from a drug scandal erupting at the local fried chicken joint. Hopefully along the way, she’ll discover the secret to happiness. Spiced with Fun Chicken Facts and Helpful Train Hints. It’s all good.
See, hilarious and also I might die of mortification (which is kind of redundant, since mortification is death).
But there’s no stopping it. We’re gonna do this thing. Ellen’s Very Southern Voice: Novels Told Write will be found on the Oam Network, iTunes, Stitcher, and other fine places. I’ll share the URL Friday.
I did it. I recorded the podcast that will accompany the release of TRACKING HAPPINESS: A SOUTHERN CHICKEN ADVENTURE. The podcast, which I’ve named ELLEN’S VERY SOUTHERN VOICE: NOVELS TOLD WRITE, offers an extended version of the novel. Each of the 26 chapters has accompanying commentary with Helpful Train Hints and Fun Chicken Facts. The whole thing is, as they say, “in the can.” Soon, you’ll be able to tune in and hear my fabulous fiction in my very own voice. And it scares me to death.
I considered this fear as I drove to The OAM Network studio in Crosstown Concourse to record. Something about my fear was familiar, this feeling that I was hacking a path though the jungle with a machete. Podcasts are a thing; everyone listens to podcasts; podcasts are not unusual. But I know no one personally who has created a podcast to support her novel. So, for me, this was new ground. And I realized that this is the way it’s always been. This is the way I do things.
When I was practicing law in Mississippi in the 1980s and 1990s, male lawyers didn’t often make room for women to succeed along traditional paths. So I made my own way—I succeed by hunting for voids. The State Bar Association didn’t have a Health Law Section, so I created one and became its first Chair. The primary health law publication was dominated by a male lawyer, so I pitched a column to a different paper, and they launched a column with me as the contributor. When I hit a ceiling with my law firm—a firm I had dearly loved—I joined a new firm and established its Jackson office with me as the Managing Partner.
These memories helped me, really. To see a bigger picture and remind myself this is nothing new. I have been here before, and by “here” I mean that point when you’re in the middle of doing something you basically made up in your head and you look up and wonder, what the hell do you think you’re doing?
Entering voids, forging new paths, going your own way. Brave sounding, but also a bit like floating in the darkness of outer space tethered to the mothership by the slimmest of cords. Wish me luck on my re-entry.
This is the last week of the rollout. Look back: the first story launched on June 26 (of this year, as my friend from writing group would clarify.) We sustained a hiatus when my daddy died, then resumed with vigor. When the current week is done, we will enter PHASE II. The collection will be made available in full on other host sites. The work will enter the wider world. So let’s enjoy this last moment of intimacy. When it’s just you and me and the stories, whispering in your ear: “Listen, I want to tell you a story.”
Cds arrive this week. Business cards with download info arrive this week. Final decisions on party food will be made this week. Soon, people will be listening to my stories. They may like them, they may not. The success comes with the listening.