Finding a New Path as a Writer

Here’s something you might find interesting, I’ve written a book. I haven’t gotten it published, I did try of course but there was a lot working against me, including my lack of social skills and inability to sell myself as any sort of skilled individual. I did some research into publishing after my failures and found out some frustrating things. The most frustrating is that a first book is supposed to be “put in a drawer” and then never heard or thought about again while I work on my second book which of course will be superior in every way.

Yeah right, that all sounds like high and mighty garbage to me, excuses written by kool-aid drinking pompous publishers who sit around talking about the art of writing in absolutes, as though there is only one obviously correct way to do things–or at lest that was my knee jerk reaction.

Oddly, I’ve never been the kind of person who does things the way everyone else does, heck I’m so untrendy I sound at least ten years older then I actually am with how out of sync I am with pop culture. But for some reason I’d always bought into the standard path that a writer must take, and I don’t know why. You know what I’m talking about right? Get a book published, maybe write a few articles, and then win an award or something. It all sound very easy when your listening to a story about someone else success.

None of this should have bothered me, and heck, maybe it wouldn’t have bothered me save for one issue. I had changed my story to be more appealing to publishers. I had added in artistic elements that I might not have even bothered with had I just been writing the story with no thoughts of publishing in my head, and honestly writing that book was miserable.

I’ve never been able to fully figure out why I was so unhappy writing that story. It could very easily have been a combination of factors. But when it came time to try and get my book published I–Just didn’t want to think about it anymore. The thing I thought would make me happy, had somehow made me unhappy. And I had to start thinking about why this was and what I needed to change.

After going through a time where I wasn’t really writing much of anything I decided that I needed to find a new path, a new path for me as a writer. And I had learned that the traditional way of writing, and the traditional way of publishing made me unhappy and just plain frustrated. And there’s an old truth that came to mind, don’t buy stock in a company you don’t belive in.

So I started this blog, I started posted poetry that I had saved up across, many years of writing. I had always hoped that I might get my poems published in a collection or someplace important. But I wasn’t really sure that I believed that was the correct way to do things anymore.

And then I started writing and posting stories on here, including NEXUS Monsters (Don’t worry I intend to write more about the inspiration and reason behind that story soon as well). And I’ve started to experiment with poems that tell stories in interesting ways as well. And the best part is I’m happy with what I’ve been writing and how I’ve been writing it, I’ve let go of any expectations of being published and am more then happy to just have my stuff posted somewhere on the internet. I no longer care about how my poems and stories might appeal to a wider audience, I can write for me, and it’s been a blast so far, even when things have’t worked out, or when I’ve run into issues.

Now none of this is to say that my path and your path need to be the same. Heck–the more traditional publishing path may be the perfect one for you, it clearly is for a lot of people. And now that I’m out of the way and not competing for a publishers attention it might give you more of a chance in the futuer, who knows.

If there’s one thing I’ve taken from all of this is that we should never be afraid to look for new ways of doing things, Even when it seems like we’ve hit a dead end we just have to back up and try to find another way forward. But that’s just what I think….

Secret Night

I guess I should have told you,
When this all began.
But never in all these years,
Did I think this would be our end.


And I should pray for a miracle,
Too save your life.
But if I were to see you again,
I’m not sure if I could.


This secret that might kill you,
makes me so ashamed.
That even now,
I can’t think of what to say.


But what nightmare await me in the dark?
should darkness ortake you in this secret night.

Something

Something on the horizon lies, it speaks, it lives, and it breathes.
It wills to go on and whether or not the will of it succeeds, it finds its way. It finds its place, it finds its time, or finds its self not to be.   

Authors note: Fun fact, this was one of the first poems I ever wrote. I was surprised when I found it still sitting on my hard drive.