First off, I’m not actually a “published” or “signed” author or even as many would proclaim, even recognizable as a legit “author” by what most of society deems as being an actual author. So writing this little blurb(more or less a rant) based on our topic of the month at hand might seem a bit unnerving and silly.
I am however a writer; a self-published writer, but still a writer. Because what do writers do? They write. Sometimes until their genitals bleed. My “self-published” status is mostly due to the fact that I don’t actually intend on ever being “signed” or “published” by any of the big names or any names at all if I can help it. I don’t want a contract with deadlines controlling my every move, I don’t want someone telling me “what’s hot” or “this is what’s selling, so write about this”; in hindsight I would cease to be a writer, in turn surrendering over my material. I don’t want “what the public is currently into” to dictate what I have to write about in order to make a buck. And after a hundred demanded rewrites and re-edits, whatever words I’ve splooged would cease to actually be my material. Of course the aforementioned is not how the gun show plays out every time, but it’s just not the road I want to go down. It’s not the kind of risk I’m fond of taking when my words are on the line.
With that said, luck has absolutely nothing to do with my writing/publishing process…I simply get inspired by life, write my ish with whatever verbatim my literary libido prescribes, get a few opinions from close friends, edit the piss out of it once, twice, thrice…(maybe this is where luck comes into play, as in editing my own work it is impossible to catch every single little tid bitty of a lyrical error)…and finally upload my manuscript and cover designs to Lulu’s media platform and BAZINGA….out comes my spawn in the form of a paperback 🙂
Simple, methodic, religious, and a bit tedious at times…but it’s better than being just the flavor of the week. I prefer doing all the work myself. 100% control is my bitch….perhaps to a fault, perhaps not; I haven’t decided, maybe it’s best not to decide. Maybe it doesn’t matter at all and it’s completely and irrevocably irrelevant; I’ll leave it up to Black Jesus to decide.
Of course, my literary loves, this does not mean I respect you professionally-signed peeps any less or at all; I love you all because we all share a love for the written art. And while I don’t give “luck” a second’s thought in regards to my writing or everyday life, I do believe that being optimistic plays a key role in our respective literary worlds. In the end, I like to hope that luck plays a very minor role in our respective positions…as we are all artists, and as artists we must create from life…not depend on luck.