Something is wrong with me....
There has to be, because I just don’t care.
Let me back up a little bit and explain. I’m a daydreamer.
I always have been.
The very act, in my mind, is magic. You can go anywhere and do anything faster than the beat of your heart, before one breath can escape your lungs. You can touch, see, hear, smell, and even taste your daydreams if you allow yourself to drift deep enough.
I never put much thought into this ‘skill’ of mine. I mean, seriously, how could daydreaming take me anywhere in reality?
It took me nearly thirty years of life, but I finally figured out if I wrote a few of these dreams down, I could hold them forever.
So I did.
The words flowed and a story was born. I will not drag you through the process of each tiny step that was taken from the first dream until today. I will not tell you how or why I chose between independent or traditionally published. I will not wear my rejection letters like an armor showing my battle scars. I will not tell you of the times that I rejected partnering with others within this field. I will not tell you how many blogs I read, or the analytical data that is black and white about the benefits or downfall of my choices.
I will not tell you how many rants I have seen on the topic of what I should or should not call myself inside this field, or what choice I should have made, or should make now.
I will not.
Because it’s stupid. Because if I am telling you what I did and how I did it—if I am defending my choices then that must mean I care about a title.
I must need vanity.
And for those that do, I shall quote Hozier now and say “That’s a fine looking high horse you have there—whatcha’ got in the stable?” and furthermore, why do you care what is in mine?
I just want to write. I want to take this God-given gift—desire, and do something with it.
Call me a tree-hugging hippy, free love, it’s all-good soul but when it comes to this I have a duality viewpoint. We are all right. And we are all wrong.
Not everyone can write. Not everyone has the courage to sit down and let a part of their soul spill out onto the pages. To stand up and allow others to pick apart something that would not have existed at all unless the author imagined it.
Those that do—you deserve a nod. Way to go, you rock. Now no matter what, a part of you will always be here with us on this blue spinning ball. A thought that originated within you has accomplished immortality.
Are some ‘writers’ better than others? Hell yes. Do some need to grow? *raises hand* Yes. We all do, it’s part of it, and always will be.
Bottom line, it’s a craft. And it is one that should be honed daily. One than needs attention, not titles.
Every field has competitiveness, it’s what makes us grow, and it drives us. I get it. But my point is the only person you should be competing against is yourself. You should be growing your skills. Your gift.
Get offline. Like, seriously. Limit your time there each day. Get in, get out. Live your life (so you have something to inspire your writing!) and then live your craft, and with the five seconds that is left at the end of the day go and check your tweets, say something witty and cute. Do that. Make an appearance here and there, like, comment, and move on. If you are scrolling, if you are keeping score—you—just stop.
I don’t care if you’re traditional, or indie, or hybrid, or—yeah, whatever, if you’re here for a title, if you’re here to make sure your tweets are RT’d, your posts are liked or #reposted, if you care more about re-blogs and where your ranking is this hour, if you noticed that author A shared author B’s cover but not yours even though you shared theirs last Tuesday at 10:13 am, and even tagged them—if you care about any of this, you are missing the point.
Glorious muses about are whispering to you...listen to them.
Go into your writing cave and close the door and find a way to steal my breath with your emotions, with the words you lay down.
If you’re here for the right reasons you won’t care what they call you or who shared what or said what or did what, you will just be grateful you were able to steal a moment to write. You will smile for no reason when you see the next mile in the story, you will create...and create some more.
Daydreaming Artist who just does not care what you call me.