We Heard You...Another Thought On The EBWW

Now that the euphoria of the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop has begun to fade I find myself wondering if it had somehow been a dream. Over 300 of the funniest women around sprinkled with just a handful of men brave enough to withstand such an estrogen filled space. 

 At my first workshop in 2012, I made a lot of friends but was still somewhat shy when I found myself in the company of a famous person. Most of the pictures that I took that year were from the back-- from the back of the ballroom, the back of the classroom and even from the back of the Bombeck family.

Yes, I was so in awe of this family that I followed them around and took pictures of the backs of their heads because I sat behind them whenever I could. 

Fast forward two years and my how things had changed. No more sitting in the back and stalking the Bombecks from behind. In fact, I never really got close to the family this year. (I don't know if they had called security on me or not.) I did exchange greetings with Betsy once in a hallway as we walked past one another. 

No, this year I felt that I had a right to be here--more so, than just having paid the registration fee.  My humor blog, Reflections On A Middle-Aged Fat Woman has been around since early 2008. I have now successfully published two books with several more in the works.  As I had been repeatedly told at the first conference that I attended that "I was a writer", I actually did feel like a writer.  I was writing. I was producing--maybe not as successful as I would like to be, but the words were there-- for the entire world to see.

If only they could find me.

If only they could hear me.

That's the tough thing about being a writer, it's tough to get noticed unless A.) You've done something really stupid that was caught on tape or B.) You're a celebrity and have done something stupid that was caught on tape and are now going to write a memoir.  Anyhow, unless you sell a million copies of said memoir, you're new found fame will be as fleeting as a shooting star.

So, that brings me back around to where I started. I know that the EBWW wasn't a dream, because I have the credit card receipts to prove it plus a few unflattering photos. Everyone wants to be heard, to tell their story and that's what I learned at this year's workshop.

From the first night at the EBWW awards ceremony, I heard stories from women that just want to be heard. From the winners that read their story aloud to those of us sitting in the audience, happy to be with other like-minded individuals that just wanted to share a laugh or even tell their own story.

   

We wanted to be heard.

And so I listened.

And I observed.

And I listened some more, interjecting a helpful comment when I could or a smile of encouragement when the conversation lagged. On several occasions, there were multiple discussions on every imaginable topic that you could think of. 

How many months or years had some of these women struggled to be heard by someone other their mother, a three-year-old child or a husband that was only concerned if dinner was going to be late? They needed to heard, and hopefully as others reflect back on our time together that will be a highlight for some. 

That they were heard and we did listen.

One evening I sat outside with Dr. Gina Barrecca and Judy Carter and observed two masters at work. They observed, interjected when needed and offered thoughts to help out "the newbies"--those that want to achieve a modicum of success in the humor world.

 But, mostly, they listened.

The camaraderie of the workshop is something that I wish I could bottle, put away and then pull it out anytime I felt like I'm not being heard or the daily routine begins to suck the brightness from the room.

I think that is why Erma Bombeck left such a lasting mark on the feminine culture. She took the daily routine and put it out for the whole world to see and she was being heard. Not only was she being heard but she was selling it too and people were buying it

.

Even though 50 years has nearly passed since Erma started writing her columns, women are still struggling to be heard. No greater instance to this fact can be observed than the recent hiring of Stephen Colbert as the new host of The Late Show. What about Tina Fey? What about Chelsea Handler? What about Whoopi Goldberg? Or Melissa McCarthy? Or Judy Carter? Or Gina Barrecca?

What about Erma Bombeck? If alive today, would she have been a candidate for the job? I'd like to think so, but in all reality, she probably wasn't blond enough, or stacked enough to get the male demographic that seems to control most of the purse strings in show business.

But wouldn't it be ironic if they had approached her with an offer and she turned them down. "I don't want this job," she might say, "11:30, that's way past my bedtime and I've got a house to run, a column to write, and dinner to cook. Besides, everyone knows that television adds ten pounds to a person; I'd have to be on a diet the rest of my life."

Listening is something that can be done every day. So, I encourage you to keep telling your stories, to listen to others when you can and to keep laughing.

I'm not sure who said it, but laughter is indeed the best medicine.

(And if you find yourself in need of a dose of sunshine from the EBWW, just look me up. I have it available for sale for only $19.99 and I'll be happy to listen.)