Sensitivity Readers and the End of Literature

How To Talk To Yourself

I read that intelligent people talk to themselves. It’s true. I know because I’m intelligent, and I talk to myself. A lot. I also know because I read it on the Internet, so it must be true.

One of my granddaughters asked me, “YaYa? Why you talk you’self all the time?”

“Because, kid, I’m the only one listening to me.”

And to figure out if I’m worth listening to at all.

Talking to yourself is good for developing arguments, working through puzzles, reviewing conversations, and testing out syntax and vocabulary. It can also make you look as crazy as a loon.

But brainstorming with your own brain is efficient; your less likely to have to endure the eyeroll of disdain from your own eyes, or the shoulder shrug of indifference from your own shoulders.

It’s less group. More work.

And there’s no one to tell you that you can’t  turn that project/idea/experiment upside down and inside out to see if it glitters better in the moonlight than the sunshine.

Talking to yourself, I’m for it.

However . . .

As a dedicated self-talker I’ve run into a bit of a snag. I’m at the point where I’ve talked to myself so long, that sometimes I say things out loud that I only think I’ve thought, and then I repeat myself and people say, “Hey, you just said that.” And I say, “No, I just thought that in my thinker, better known as my brain.” And they say, “You’re nuts.”

So, that’s what I think about that.

Excuse me, I have to go talk this over—with myself.

Linda (Chatty Cathy) Zern