I agree there are times when being invisible is a welcome relief, and it really does have to do with what sort of energy you’re putting out. If you don’t want to be noticed you do everything you can to avoid, whether it’s looking down, acting withdrawn or being extremely focused on your goal. If I don’t want to be bothered I find myself doing all of these things and more. Yes, being invisible definitely has its good moments.

As someone who feels the same authorial pain on this subject, I’d like to suggest that maybe invisibility is a positive indicator in a weird way. I can’t remember where I read it, but I saw the point made that reader communities love to pat most newbie writers on the head, offer them encouragement, etc. Once that newbie has become somewhat *established*, the head patting, back rubs, what have you, STOP (until the author gets into the highest stratosphere and mere sightings of her pulling out a pen can cause even the most caustic soccer mom to faint dead away with pleasure).

Perhaps you came on the scene with an aura of being established. No one thought it was necessary to stroke your writer’s ego with words of encouragement. At least, this is what I try to comfort myself with when I feel invisible (pretty much always) as a writer.

Ann

I’ve been invisible since high school, because I’ve never been the popular one or the beautiful one. I’ve also gained weight and gotten older. I’m shy, but I started saying “hi here I am!” Amazing how people don’t overlook you when you get in their face. The good thing is that I can turn it on and off, so when I want to fade into the woodwork, I can.

Women don’t have to be overlooked. Don’t let yourself be.

Jennifer’s “sisters stand up” lecture for the day.