Just random shit today. Whenever I try to stick to a blog theme it all just kinda evolves into a squirrel brain free-for-all. I mean, that's how I think. It's a constant barrage of noise in my head. There has always been a constant barrage of noise in my head. Good, bad, comical, horror... music lyrics without the lyrics. Do not ask me what I mean by that. I couldn't tell you if I tried. My brain works fast. It doesn't stop. It doesn't matter what it is. It's like 1 2 3 4 skip topic 5 6 7 now that thing that happened in 3rd grade that you forgot about is here, let's change to shame and 8 1 2 oh shit we're out of dogfood.
Today has been very long. I have been up for nearly 12 hours. My brain is firing on all freak out cylinders while my body is collapsing.
I made the mistake of going to Amazon to look for something to read in KU because right now I have a free subscription. I found a person I used to know, who sat in front of me and told me how jealous they were of my writing career while fan girling over me and said "I don't want my career I want yours". Well, I guess she got it. I mean I wasn't doing anything with it, so does it matter.
But I never could look at her again without thinking how much she scared me. She wasn't a friend. She wasn't a fan. She was, well, worse.
And here I am comparing myself to her, and her shitty books, and yes I do think her books from back then were shitty. She just had a good marketing team. That is all.
If I'd ever had a marketing team... where would I be now?
Probably right where I am, because most of the reason I don't write isn't about marketing. Well, it is. But it's about shit in my personal life that kicked me until something gave out.
I don't talk about my experience with my 15 minutes. And that's what my "career" was. a very quick blink and you'll miss it 15 minutes. That I had no idea how I achieved, or how to keep it when it started slipping through my fingers.
Do I want it back? I'd be lying if I said no. But I can't say yes either. I liked the money. I did not like the fame (as miniscule as that was). I could not handle people like that friend up there. Fawning at me to my face. Talking shit about me behind my back. Was she the only one? No. Did I ever do anything for her to help boost her career? also no. Honestly, I didn't like her. We lived in two very different worlds. I felt uncomfortable around her. And when we ghosted each other, I forgot about her. Until I saw her pen name again.
And that's the rabbit hole I went down. The writers I've met and friended and where they are now and where it all went... and for the most part it was just mutual ghosting. People who moved into my realm and out again. But the ones I thought were friends. The ones I actively worked with and helped and thought this is my circle this is my group... who never once returned the favor and when they got theirs... well... at least they didn't tell me to my face they were jealous. If I'd figured that out then maybe I wouldn't distrust everyone now.
Ahh, so that's the thoughts for tonight. I knew it would pop up somewhere in here. The theme of this night is pity party... of one.
I think I just got de ja vu... twice.
SIGHS!
I have no circle. I have no team. I've never really had a circle. I know that now. I never had a team. What I did, for however brief a time it was, I did it without any of that. Sure there was word of mouth back then. There were people who came to me. Who left when I couldn't give them whatever they were looking for from me. Because I literally can not and do not understand how to handle the social part of it all.
Of being trapped at a book con in the bathroom, with my back to the sink counter, by a group of people raving about my book, to each other, without looking at me... like. Okay. How do you deal with that?
I wrote this thing. I'm happy you liked it. The degree to which you like it is stunningly terrifying to me. The degree to which you hated it, well, that I understand. That makes sense. It's terrible. It's shit. I can't write for shit. I don't trust those people in the former category at all because... well... for one I was trapped in a social situation that triggered a panic attack and all there was to do was flee. But hell, yeah, I absolutely understand the hate.
You have absolutely no idea what it's like to have someone smile at you and say pretty words of praise but you can see the absolute hate in their eyes. The "this fat bitch has this thing she does not deserve while I'm so much better and she has what I want"... you can feel it like a slap in the face. Full force. I saw it. I recognized it. I let her go. She got her team. She's made big best seller lists that I will never get close to.
And, for tonight. Just tonight. I'm the one sitting at that table looking at her with jealous eyes thinking you got something you didn't deserve, but hey, that's nice for you. I wish you well. Just as I wish the few who I called friends, well.
But does that mean I'm going to get off my ass and write something new. Because I saw someone and felt the bitter feels for what I've lost, through my own faults... probably not. Because now, it's not about my ability to write a story that will ever bring me back to where I was. It's about marketing. And marketing is about socializing and playing nice with others. And I absolutely do not have that ability, or need. It's not enough to write a book now. You have to have... well, there's this guy down in Australia that got on booktok and all the booktok girlies went nuts for him so he got a three book contract without ever having written a word in his life.
And that's the world of publishing that we live in. Ability need not apply, there's an AI app for that somewhere.
Peace,
Mercy
No comments:
Post a Comment