Hiding Behind Average
There is safety in meritocracy, no risk in hiding behind just okay. Living up to average can give you an excuse not expose yourself. I took a chance on something that in my head for years I held back on. Lots of people can do what I do, some more skilled in the art definitely more schooled and some so stuck in proper form and rules that they miss what I think I hit most of the time.
I once felt that my writings were pieces of me and that by letting other people read my struggles, me fears, my hurts and all that imprisoned me that any and everyone would see what a mess I was. I also on the other side of that sword had hoped if that I ever got enough guts to cast my writings out there that the ones who I wanted to see beyond the flesh; I wanted them to see that I was human. A lot of the poems were about people who deeply affected me and I had hoped that when I shared my words with them that they in return would be affected by me.
Being an idealistic daydreamer feeds the manic surge in most writers and artists but the real world doesn’t give a shit about all that unless of course you’re savvy enough to market your personal thoughts for profit. I was able to pay the gate keeper to allow my book to be published and I was thrown out in the deep to market it on my own which was something I wasn’t really prepared to do. Let’s just say things haven’t gone the way I had hoped and I may be a tad reluctant to try again, not because I feel my writing sucks but because my marketing skills sucks.
I am in the process of writing another story, this one completely different and I am taking my time with. I don’t know if I will stick my neck out on the line again, investing a lot of money for next to nil profit but I will know what to expect or in my case what not to expect
I once felt that my writings were pieces of me and that by letting other people read my struggles, me fears, my hurts and all that imprisoned me that any and everyone would see what a mess I was. I also on the other side of that sword had hoped if that I ever got enough guts to cast my writings out there that the ones who I wanted to see beyond the flesh; I wanted them to see that I was human. A lot of the poems were about people who deeply affected me and I had hoped that when I shared my words with them that they in return would be affected by me.
Being an idealistic daydreamer feeds the manic surge in most writers and artists but the real world doesn’t give a shit about all that unless of course you’re savvy enough to market your personal thoughts for profit. I was able to pay the gate keeper to allow my book to be published and I was thrown out in the deep to market it on my own which was something I wasn’t really prepared to do. Let’s just say things haven’t gone the way I had hoped and I may be a tad reluctant to try again, not because I feel my writing sucks but because my marketing skills sucks.
I am in the process of writing another story, this one completely different and I am taking my time with. I don’t know if I will stick my neck out on the line again, investing a lot of money for next to nil profit but I will know what to expect or in my case what not to expect