Wading Thru…

Being a writer, anything for that matter, puts you in the competition against 1,000,000 other people of similar ilk. Such is the cross we all bear. It took me a long time to quit looking at everyone abreast, ahead, or aback and just “stay in my lane” because, face it, that is a had thing to do. Especially when you’re inundated with sub-par people that’ll make you liable to be passed over by the jaded masses. Uh oh, I just did two faux-pas; a hater statement and put air in my own ego. Not so much… I’m secure enough to realize what is good and bad. I congratulate undeniable art and try my best to learn from them. If it happens to be something that is absolute trash but made it’s way into the shining stratosphere, even then I deconstruct it so that I can find out “the secret…” Second, there’s confidence and delusions of grandeur. I string together a few coherent thoughts, and I can imagine big; badda boom, badda bing, I make a few stories. With that being said (as I segue back to my initial assertion) it is frustrating being a writer where my competition is the likes of Rachett Girls Finish Last and Downlow Preachers 3 and they’re getting rave reviews.

Again, let me better clarify myself. Not that there’s anything wrong with the obvious market those writers are cornering, but at least take the time to get a decent editor to comb through your tome! You subject matter being what it is notwithstanding, I obsess over the placement of commas whereas there and their are misused with reckless abandon. It not only devalues the already taboo world of self-publishing, but to a greater social extent, reinforces certain stereotypes. I’m soapboxing, I know. I just wish that… hell I don’t know what I wish.


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