“Solitude matters, and for some people it is the air that they breathe.” 

This quote is from a talk by Susan Cain who is a former corporate lawyer and negotiations consultant—and a self-described introvert.  She posits that introverts have much to offer the world but that our society typically places more value on the socially outgoing personality.  Cain argues that we design our schools, workplaces, and religious institutions for extroverts, and that bias creates a waste of talent, energy, and happiness.  Yet some of the greatest contributions to society have come from introverts—from Chopin’s nocturnes to the invention of the personal computer to Gandhi’s transformative leadership. Her new book, Quiet, is based on intensive research in psychology, neurobiology and prolific interviews.  She explains why introverts are capable of great love and great achievement, not in spite of their temperaments—but because of them.

In my opinion, introverts (like me) are often made to feel that there is something intrinsically wrong with preferring quiet contemplation over social interaction.  When I was still in the corporate rat race, I remember sitting in a meeting with a room full of extroverts, all talking over one another as they tried to get their points across.  I sat quietly listening to the various viewpoints and weighing the merits of each before forming my own opinion.  Oddly enough, I like to think before I speak.   But that trait was not valued in the company.  Quick, loud and insistent ruled the day.  After a few minutes, my boss turned to me and said, “Are you here with us, Val?”  The implication was that because I hadn’t dived into the verbal barrage like my peers, I was somehow removed from the scene.  It’s true that I have a tendency to tune out high-energy people when their actions become too overwhelming.  But in that particular meeting, I was very much in the moment, formulating a coherent statement that would benefit the discussion rather than weighing in with an opinion not fully formed.

As a writer, I’m freed from the pressure of expectations that run counter to my more contemplative personality.  I am allowed, even encouraged, to remove myself from the chattering masses and release my inner muse.  Coupled with reading and research, it’s a bliss that I treasure.  But interacting with people , even taking the spotlight to give speeches, readings, and workshops, as well as participating in other marketing efforts are part of the job, too.  Although one-third of the people we know are introverts, Cain points out that they can, and often do, engage in activities that require skills outside their comfort zone.  As she says, “Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Gandhi—all these people described themselves as quiet and soft-spoken, and even shy.  And they all took the spotlight, even though every bone in their bodies was telling them not to.”   They did it because they had a cause that was greater than them.  I don’t put myself in their company, but I can relate to what they must have felt.  The jobs I’ve had over the years (especially teacher, management trainer, and concierge) have required me to push beyond the boundaries of my inward personality to a more outward, socially-focused temperament.  The stretch has been good without discounting or diminishing who I am naturally.  As Susan Cain has said, “The world needs you ( introverts )and it needs the things you carry.” 

If you would like to hear Susan Cain’s 19-minute video on this subject, go to:  http://www.ted.com/talks/susan_cain_the_power_of_introverts.html

If I'm still thinking about the characters in a book or movie long after the final chapter ends or the credits have rolled, then I'd say the author or actors did their job.  I saw the movie We Bought a Zoo a few weeks ago and something the main character (Matt Damon) said is still rattling around in my head.  He told his kids to "Just give me 20 seconds of courage and I'll guarantee you something great will happen."  I find that line compelling, especially when I feel uncertain about my ability to accomplish something.  But we usually associate courage with facing some kind of danger.  The characters I write about in my mysteries are always thrust into dangerous situations that require courage or, at the very least, a clever way to overcome an obstacle or the murderous villain in their path.  We may encounter obstacles in real life but rarely are they as dramatic as those found in fiction.  However, they can require just as much courage to overcome.  The dictionary defines courage as "the attitude of facing and dealing with anything recognized as dangerous, difficult, or painful, instead of withdrawing from it."  I read a book recently titled Heft, which was about a 400 pound man who was afraid to leave the confines of his home.  A virtual recluse who'd withdrawn from all human contact, he ordered his necessities over the Internet and had them delivered to his doorstep.  No one ever visited him.  The story of how he summoned the 20 seconds of courage to change his life still resonates with me today.

I believe courage is about attitude.  It's about developing a frame of mind that allows you to believe in yourself.  With belief comes action.  With action comes the possibility of success.  And yes, the possibility of failure.  I've known both.  What gives me comfort is what Theodore Roosevelt once said:  "The credit belongs to the man (and woman) who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming . . . and if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."  So when I'm afraid, when I suffer from doubt or worry, when I think I can't go on any longer, when the goal I seek is still far from my reach, I remember this:  Twenty Seconds.  Give me twenty seconds of courage and great things will happen.