I suppose in the writing profession after a certain time you are what your record says you are. Maybe there are exceptions of undiscovered genius, like Kafka or Confederacy of Dunces, but in general if people aren't taking to your work it's probably because it doesn't warrant very much attention.
I haven't enjoyed writing in almost twenty years. Nobody much liked my first book, Concave Buddha, and I still have boxes of my second book, Detached Retinas, in my closet. I did have some early success in placing my poems in small press zines, but I think that was largely due to imitating the style of the day. The Bukowski style.
I really stopped writing as a serious endeavor in the early 1990's, and stopped submitting my work for the approval of others then. All my subsequent books are self-published, and all my poetry appears only here or at Zombie Logic Review. Occasionally I'll write something late at night and share it to Facebook.
I really like to leave some sort of permanent record here at Zombie Logic about what I watched, what I saw. I rarely have anything to say about my private life or interactions. I'm trying to keep it vaguely literary. Actually right now I'm just trying to get to 500 words to appease Google, because I haven't written in days.
Google, like the rest of the world, isn't particularly interested in what I write, either. I am reminded of that occasionally when I see a tripod page, long scuttled, and of poor quality of the first place, outranking one of my blogs on the same topic, written only weeks before. It's alright, though, because invisibility is a superpower.
Largely, when anyone bothers to comment on anything I have written, it is because they are angry and disagree with me. It's rare for me to ever make a statement out of sheer desire to incite the anger of others. I write what I want, and I say what I believe. Is this 500 words yet? Should I post a picture also...
 |
| Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls. |
Pin It
No comments:
Post a Comment