The Reason I Love Podcasting is the Same Reason I Love Writing

When I was 16, I placed in my first writing contest, runner-up in the youth fiction category of a community contest cosponsored by the Kalamazoo and Portage libraries, Kalamazoo Gazette, and Barnes and Noble Booksellers. That story is actually sitting next to my desk right now. A teacher laminated it for me, and I later framed it to hang in my office space. There is a small picture of me that my parents provided and a custom illustration by a local artist. The story has nothing to do with food, but that is the section of the paper where it was included. (Prophetic?)

I was anxious, but excited, to accept my award at a ceremony held at Barnes and Noble. (I also received a $25 BN gift card, which I used to buy the newly published hardcover edition of Triangle: Imzadi II by Peter David. Yes, it's a Star Trek novel.) However, I did not find out until after my parents and I had arrived that I was expected to read an excerpt from my story before the assembled crowd as part of the deal. If I had known beforehand, I never would have shown up.

I abhor public speaking. Throughout high school and college, if I had to give a presentation in front of the class, my knees shook so badly that I nearly fell more than once. Now, I am usually ok if I am not alone on the stage. I have participated in several panels at local steampunk conventions. But alone? No thanks.

My parents could see how scared I was, so we told the presenter that we had to leave early, and I wouldn't be able to read my story. I wanted to hear it read, though, as well as hear people's reactions, so I hid among the stacks with my new book and listened as the presenter did a fantastic job. He took his role very seriously, going into a private room to practice before taking the mic to do the story, and me, justice. I am still grateful to him.

It wasn't until a few years ago, at the second Motor City Steam Con, that I finally did read from my work. I read from two stories super fast and, apparently, stopped too soon as the very small audience wanted me to go on. (I believe I told them they had to buy the books.)

The thing is, I don't mind speaking. I mind people seeing—watching—me as I'm speaking. I am highly distractible. When you look up "distractible" in the dictionary, it says, "children with ADHD can be inattentive and distractible as well as impulsive." Distractible and ADHD are practically synonyms. I am aware of everything while I am in front of an audience. I feel every eye. I see every movement. If anyone coughs or sneezes, I tune into it.

I also know that I don't communicate in the same ways that most other people do. Something that seems completely clear and obvious to me isn't so for others, and vice versa. I often become frustrated because I have explained something in the plainest, most logical way I know how, and my listener just doesn't get it. People also fail to grasp my "leaps" in topic and the connections I've made when, in my head, they made perfect sense, I just got there faster than neurotypical people. (Being around other neurodiverse people is nice because we often make the same leaps together. It is refreshing and gratifying, and we don't have to explain as much to each other. We sometimes communicate so quickly that others listening in are mystified.) I like communicating, but it's less stressful for me if I don't have a live audience.

So, writing. Writing helps me work things out, and I can better understand the wonky world. I can take as much time as I want to articulate what I am trying to say. And there are few rebuttals. In a live conversation, I need more time to respond to new things than other people. In writing, I can process at my own pace.

Likewise, with podcasting, no one can see me. I can fidget all I need to, and the listeners can't tell. I don't have to worry about my audience judging my appearance or my behavior. If I get lost, that part can be edited out, just like I (and my editors) do with my articles and stories. (And blog. I cannot tell you how many edits I have made to this thing, and I haven't even finished writing it.)

I don't actually edit any of the three podcasts I am on (Cinema Guano, Haunted Mitten, and Back Up A Second), which means even less stress for me! I can really relax and enjoy myself as I chat with friends. I do a lot of reading and do my best to research the stories we cover on Haunted Mitten, too, which allows my indulgent hyperfocusing to run wild. I do the same with my writing. (I know far more about the latter 19th century Great Lakes region than anyone else I know because of some characters I'm developing, let alone the history of fashion.)

There is a certain level of spontaneity that I enjoy in podcasting, even with a script, that I don't get in writing. You can't go back and change what you said like you can with writing. You can choose to edit it out, re-record it, or not to release it at all, but it's much easier to just let it go. (Although listeners may note that "letting it go" is not a strong point of Back Up A Second. I love you nerds!) I have only a 50/50 chance of remembering what I've just said two seconds ago anyway, whereas with writing, I can go back and read, ponder, stew, and rewrite indefinitely.

Well, I've certainly had a lot more to say than I thought I did in this post. Maybe it's the extra time at home that the pandemic has given me that has allowed me to pursue this new artistic avenue as much as I have. (Though the loss of our studio space dur to pandemic closures did create a hurdle in Haunted Mitten's first season.) I know a lot of other people have also gotten into podcasting over the last year, such as our new friend at Paranormal Patio as well as my cohosts at Back Up A Second.

Do you have a podcast? I'd love to check it out.