There is no real question here. As a writer and reasonably deep thinker it is a given that if I take the time to write something then I would truly like someone to read it. The issue is at what level is that work of art to be published. I have a couple of blogs, a web site, and HubPages where I maintain a presence and that keeps me appropriately busy in a number of areas. I have my personal feelings on two. I maintain a political opinion focus on another. I enlighten the world on how to perform certain life functions on the third.
There are the social networking sites I am a part of, Facebook being the most used. I surf Twitter and belong to perhaps nearly a dozen others with varying amounts of use. These have been a boon to my writing career and I gain followers with every effort I engage in from the publishing point of view. This is certainly not of a meteoric level of participation. I have 19 followers on Twitter with at least one porn star anxiously awaiting the wisdom I have to tweet about.
While these are not exactly impressive, from a public relations point of view, it represents about a 600% increase in the last thirty days. Therein lays my answer. I have been pretty steady in putting written pieces out there and have taken my own advice from my own writings on how I apply the talents I possess. Write Write Write!
Having said this I find myself at an impasse. I began writing today in order to maintain fealty to my mantra …Write Write Write! My conundrum is that I have no idea where I must put this piece. Today I sat down and just began to put words on a page and what you are reading is what has come out. I am a mind to complain and rail against the unfairness of it all. I want to blame someone other than myself for the situation I am in. I want to give up.
Having made the leap of faith necessary to become a full time writer, I have experienced a most profound case of the Starving Artist syndrome. I have also found little respite from the life on life’s terms that have been directed my way. Yesterday I went out to go to the doctor and while out took the time to go and speak to several of my creditors to inform them of my lack of finances at this moment. It was the honest and right thing to do, yet, I came out of the experience humiliated. I have spent most of my life in financial straits of some sort or another. I always bounce back and things get better. I am in serious trouble right now with the added issue that my health is such that I physically cannot work at anything I have expertise at except sitting at a computer and writing.
Fortunately, I have this available to me at home. When, that is, I can get there.
The last several weeks have found me in bed a lot, and unable to get around to deal with my responsibilities. There are some who will read this and instantly wish to come and give me the “third degree” about my situation and offer assistance by way of suggestion on what I should do. I am grateful for the love and affection of the people in my life, but this is not an aid to me. Everything I am physically and mentally able to do about this situation has been done, and is continually being done.
It was not out of conceit or arrogance that I made the choice to stay at home and write. It was a result of years of contemplation and much prayer. I have the ability to put words on a page in an attractive manner and I truly believe that the God of my understanding wishes me to do this. For those who would tell me that “God Will Provide,” I must report that this statement is of no use to me either. He has most certainly provided for me already. He has given me the ability to put thoughts on paper, even when those thoughts are of a negative nature.
I am exhausted right now. This week saw me lose a day and a half to my infirmities, a complete lack of any form or remuneration, humiliation, and the worst day I have had in a long, long time. Boo F&@%ing Hoo!
In the spirit of “Always Look on the Bright Side of Things” I can report that all is not lost. I know where to publish this, and you who are reading will now that. Baby Steps.
Please pray for me.