You know what's funny?
I mean besides three mini knights with plastic swords in their drawers running around calling me "my lady" and slobbering on my hand?
It's funny that I used to be a publicist and yet I've never actually been interviewed myself.
It was my JOB to land people interviews and then train them to handle their time with the media. Back in the Fast Company tech boom, I actually got paid ridiculous sums to spend entire days coaching techies on what to wear on camera and how to sit and how to answer questions, even if they happen to be exactly the questions that you hoped wouldn't come up.
Still, I never had to sit in the hot seat myself.
I was like the PE coach who sips her coffee on the sidelines while her students run laps.
Don't ask me how I got into that line of work. I'm still not exactly sure. I went to school to become an elementary school teacher, and before I knew what happened I was hawking software companies to the Wall Street Journal. Go figure.
Needless to say, when dear Molly of Mommycoddle asked to interview me for her Bushel and a Peck column on Momformation, I was equal parts thrilled and nervous.
Me? Give an interview? What on earth would I have to say?
I would surely have dug up my old media training notes, if they weren't in a big box, pushed WAY back in the dark creepy attic that formerly housed the you know whats.
But, because it was Molly and because it's not everyday, actually it's not EVER, that I get to say that I'm being interviewed, I jumped at the chance.
You can see the results here.
You can also see, pretty darn quickly, that I neglected to remember one of my cardinal rules of interviewee strategy… make your point and shut up. Do NOT blather on.
Please. Blather is one of my middle names. (The other is Pie)
It was too darn much fun being interviewed. I might have to do that more often, especially if it involves Molly. I'm certain that anything we did together would be fun. I could probably even scrub toilets with Molly and still manage to have a good time.
Besides, particularly given my current crafty, merry-making slump, it's awfully nice to be considered even marginally worthy of the title "Creative Mom".
"Creative" is not one of those nice ways of saying something that isn't so nice at all, is it? It's not like "special" is it?
No, don't answer that.
Go and have a look, but you might want to pack a lunch. It will take you a while to wade through it all.
If you make it to the end, you might even get a few hints of the good things to come, down 'round Blue Yonder way in the new year.