Yep. That’s me.
Most people in my life call me one or the other, and as you can probably guess, I came about this nickname because of my personality. I’m normally a very outgoing, and you guessed it, bubbly person. I’ve always been a people person and talking has been a specialty of mine since I uttered my first word. In fact, beginning as early as elementary school, I got bad marks on my report card for talking too much. I grew up loving to be around people and making new friends, and to be honest (not bragging), it’s always been easy for me.
But here’s what may surprise people who know me:
I’m a homebody, and I’ve found since I’ve been actively writing my novel, I’m more of a homebody than ever. If you gave me the choice of going to a party or staying home, I’d most likely choose to stay home. Being in my own surroundings, writing, is my safe haven. Don’t get me wrong, I love being around friends and family, but my social life isn’t what it used to be.
Being inside my fiction world, spending time with my characters, and manipulating words to tell a story is what I love most. Thankfully, I have a husband who understands that love and respects how serious I am about writing. Finding a balance between my fiction world and reality hasn’t been as hard as you would think. His understanding of my process and what I need to do to get a story written makes all the difference in the world. As for my friends and family, I think most of them understand, but I’m certain some of them shake their head about my lack of going out and being social.
I would definitely make a fabulous recluse. I have no problem staying inside for days on end and I’m completely okay with having no human contact (okay, except for my husband). I absolutely love cloudy, rainy days; they help justify my need to stay in and write. I know… I know… this doesn’t seem normal, but I believe for a lot of writers, it is. I feel I’m my truest self when I’m alone with my many pens and notebooks, while stories swirl in my head, begging to get on paper. To some, this may sound sad and pathetic, and maybe a little crazy, but for me, it’s my normal.
Do I consider my reclusive tendencies an affliction? No, not at all. However, I do find it interesting. Being an extrovert for most of my life, I feel that’s the face I have to put on. That’s what people in my life are used to, and having the nickname Bubbles, comes with somewhat of a required action. It’s always been the case that “if Amy is quiet, something is wrong”. That was definitely true before I started writing, but now, if I’m quiet and distant or held up in my home, I’m probably working on a story. It’s not easy to explain how characters work inside my head, and all I can say is, being quiet and listening to them is critical to my writing process. And when a chapter isn’t coming together like I want or my characters are being stubborn, it’s pure hell for me, which means even more silence and pulling away until it works itself out.
For me, being solitary is a positive thing and something I crave, but of course, I’ll never be a true recluse. Sharing my life with my loving husband, family, and friends means too much to me. Their support of my writing, and the oddities that come with it, gets me through the tough times when words don’t come easy. They’re also the first to celebrate with me when the words flow like a waterfall or when one tiny idea sparks into a full-on story.
I guess I can kinda be a recluse and a bubbly one at that. That’s possible, isn’t it?
Until next time…