Hello world! It is many a day since I visited this site to enlighten those in need of such aid. Not since the Feast of the Patron Saint of the land of my ancestors have I sat to intentionally compose some words of wisdom. The Ides of March have come and gone with not a single knife shoved in any part of my anatomy except, perhaps, the feeling of inadequacy that results from a writer not writing what they love. As such, I offer today’s harangue. I have been delving into the field of writing to the exclusion of all other pursuits. I have busied myself with such activities as joining online companies that hire freelance writers, developing a portfolio presence on the World Wide Web (http://about.me/tlloydreilly), and attempting to write, primarily, articles and essays that could return some funds to this starving artist.
I closed one website and began another. I have plunged into the social networking that all seem to deem necessary if one wishes to be a recognized author. I have written some excruciatingly great material only to have three quarters of it sent back as rubbish. Well not rubbish so much as the standard rhetoric detailing that the work is fine, or well written, but that it does not fit their particular “vision” and they cannot see putting any effort into the work submitted. My personal response to the “vision” comments would be to tell them to drag their sorry asses to the Eye doctor for a set of glasses.
As my faithful readers of this blog will attest, I am not without a certain level of perspicacity where it comes to the written arts. I tend to be somewhat pompous about my acumen, but most of you love me and, I believe, love that ostentation. Even if you do not love my excessive use of large words or alliteration, the fact that you are reading this tells me that you do, in fact, love me. I am aware that my prose oftentimes requires that a dictionary be kept nearby, and offer no apologies. In that is another proof to me of the affection that is given me. You’re still reading, aren’t you? On the whole, I can say, unequivocally, that I am a fortunate man.
I have complaints in this life - chief among them right now is the absence of a living wage. “Starving Artist” almost fits the bill, but not quite. Those who know my rotund butt (well, not as rotund as it once was – weight lost after bariatric surgery creeping towards 170lbs.) can tell you that groceries are going to be in my refrigerator and pantry. My bills stay in danger of being at the disconnect state, and my truck is about to be repossessed. These concerns impede my level of creativity, and irritate me to no end. With my health being decidedly not healthy, the only avenue for revenue is through writing or to live with the axiom which Tennessee Williams character, Blanch Dubois articulated, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”
Hurdles in life to surpass are simply what one must do along this journey we all seem to find ourselves on. Overemphasizing the negative denies us the ability to enjoy the true succor we all receive in one form or another. I attribute my continued existence on the grace and mercy of a loving and merciful God. Someone else might have a different name for it but, they aren’t writing this blog post…I am.
In my search for the just desserts of my chosen trade, I have come across many of the less savory parts of the business of writing, and have suffered the indignity of thinking and announcing that I have been engaged to be a full time writer only to find out that children working in factories in China would be making more for less work then would be required for any of these positions. While this would seem disheartening to most, and I will admit to some depression over it, the thing to do is never give up. Winston Churchill said this during WWII and it fits this and any situation where quitting would seem easier than to trudge over obstacles to find success.
I heard someone tell me once that if you are not working at what you love, then you need to get a different job. In that light, I have found that there is an entire section of the writing for dollars cosmos that can and does pay appropriately for those who seek it. Short Fiction writing can earn one a living wage, and it is what I love most to write. Pursuant to that, I have put my efforts into that and will continue. I have posted some short fiction for your reading pleasure on this blog, but will be increasing my word count significantly. To get a taste of this, which contains many less big words then I spew on this blog, you can find it here:
It felt good to write this post today. I apologize to those who have a soft part for my ramblings here, and will try to do better. I love all of you and will leave you with an old Irish Sentiment:
“May the Lord keep you in his hand and never close his fist too tight.”