Something occurred to me recently—yesterday?—or maybe it’s been the culmination of several deep thoughts over the years that were distracted by chocolate or coffee or maybe just life in general. The thing that occurred to me is that NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO DO THIS FOR ME.
There. I said it. Or yelled it. But at myself. Definitely not at you. (Most definitely NOT at you x 1000)
NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO DO THIS FOR ME.
Ah, feels even better saying/yelling for the second time.
It should be obvious. It’s *super* obvious but I kind of figured just writing would be enough and that my part—the main part—only needed to remain there. The writing-of-books-part. I figured I’d write them, throw them into cyberspace and wait for the fangirling (or fanboying—I don’t judge) to commence, which would inevitably be followed by a major publishing contract with a big fat check. Easy-peasy, right? Except—oh yeah—that hasn’t happened. Because that’s not how things work. Because you can’t do only some of the work (drats!) and I’ve been doing… eh… maybe a third? (Mind you I did work fulltime and I have Appa, who is *basically* my child). But I don’t advertise my words at all. I literally write them, feel good about them and then chuck them so hard into cyberspace I hope I forget about the next part:
I hate talking myself up. I hate compliments because, like, what do you say to them? You have a nice a hat? I don’t know. Getting other people excited about something I’m doing or have done or made or wrote seems like I’m bragging and I *hate* people who brag. It’s like yeah, we get it, you’re kind of good at something, but so is everyone. That’s why I shy away from promotion. I don’t want the spotlight. I don’t want to be passed the mic. I will hot-potato that shit so quick, someone’s going to get a spud in their eye.
But I can’t keep doing that.
Past all the doubt and weird attention disorders, I am really proud of what I did. What I wrote. What I keep on writing and if I want it to be something in this field, no one else is going to believe it until I do. They’re not going to get interested unless I’m telling them why. I get it now. I probably should’ve gotten it a while ago but we all learn at different rates (shut up).
Moral of the story?
It sucks to wake up and realize you’re the only one who can change things.
…But it’s kind of liberating too.