contributed by Dana Detrick
In my teens, I never took to babysitting the way my friends did. I was tagged pretty early on as “most likely to end up a crazy cat woman”. True to form, decades later, I have scrapbooks full of the rescued and adopted felines to whom I’ve been caregiver and confident (I’m pretty sure most of my contemporaries are doing that with their babies, but I’m usually too busy cleaning up hairballs on the kitchen stool or scooting someone off the countertop to notice). I knew it was my thing. And it was obvious to everyone else, too.
Passion doesn’t adapt.
I’ve read countless stories from women who became mothers because it seemed like the right thing to do, only to realize that they just weren’t cut out for it. It’s not really a job you can quit once you get started, so they adapt, but it’s with a knowing that they never had their hearts 100% in it, and probably didn’t do the best job possible.
Being just as passionate, sometimes to a fault, about my work, I’ve tried to take that same straight-forward approach within it. Sure, there have been times clients have needed something that I know I wasn’t the right fit for, and I’ve given it that half-hearted shot, knowing there was a monetary prize at the end. Sometimes it was a jingle on the fly, or a voice out of my range. They each taught me something in the process, but ultimately, I love working most on and do my very best at the projects that are obvious fits for me.
Start with 10 Words or less.
In one of my college music composition classes, we had a day where we went around the “circle” (it was a small class) and described each of our fellow student composers’ styles in as few words as possible. I will never forget the terms I got: “sultry”, “edgy”, “percussive”. All were obvious, and true. I enjoyed experimenting with and perverting conventions of rhythm and instrumentation, and I dabbled a lot in altered scales and extended chords.
I see myself invoking these things still in my commercial work, sometimes subtly, sometimes not. But when I have to “play it straight” I do…but it’s never as fun. My heart doesn’t race and my fingertips don’t tingle on playback. I get the job done, and that’s it. And usually, my clients are happy, but not ecstatic. Not like when I make my special brand of magic, and they *get* it, and we all realize something awesome has happened because we’re such a solid match.
Life’s a niche.
Each of us has that thing. Our zone. Whether it’s the kind of narration voice that turns an e-learning project into a virtual, interactive academy, or a knack for writing modern sea shanties that set attendance records for local theater productions.
The more time that narrator focuses on beefing up their movie trailer voice because they think they should in order to have a “well rounded” demo, the less time they can be marketing to as many e-learning producers as possible to further spread their natural gift. Not only will it be detrimental to their bottom line, but it robs an audience of what that talent was meant for: teaching.
Fearing that niche that we’re naturally inclined for is human (we don’t want to limit ourselves, do we?) but illogical, and for once, I’m going to say illogical = bad. Focusing on not only what we’re really good at, but also love, will help us see more opportunities where we’re a good fit. This will equal more money, and equally as good, more happiness.
Being the crazy cat woman is not always easy, but it is natural for me, and the rewards are out of this world. Glad it was a fit.
Yesterday and today - Quincy, 3, who was tossed from a car at 5 weeks, only to now live the life of a queen, takes a few moments to remember her much older brother Conner, lost to hyperthyroid a year ago.
