If You Can't Be Successful...

At this point in my "career", I have nothing to lose. So, why not just blow up the status quo? I'm a rebel at heart, but you'd never know it, because I'm quite good at masking my anarchic tendencies. 

I'm a dichotomy. I prefer a neatly laid-out world, where one adheres to the old-fashioned notions of propriety. People should practice common courtesy and keep their opinions to themselves. I'm a master at that. I can be whoever you want me to be at any given moment. It's a matter of survival, really. When I existed in the corporate world, I followed its dots. It wasn't hard. Just employ a lot of weasel words and keep one's true opinions to oneself. Yes, it itched. When I had to announce to my staff that their jobs were being outsourced, I longed to rail against the heartless company that was dooming our futures. Instead I played nice. And then I went outside, got in my car and bawled my eyes out. 

And the next day I quit.

And so goes my writing life. Hardly anyone appreciates my perspective; at least judging by my dearth of sales. I'll play along ~ to a point ~ but in the end, I can't help myself. It's more important to me to be "real" than to be part of the team. If I was forty, I'd still play the game. But I'm not forty, and nobody's going to quash my career ambitions if I stray from the the corporate line. I have no career ambitions. 

If I can't write the truth now, when can I? 

Growing up in a dysfunctional family was a a minefield. It's hard to explain to someone who wasn't there, but survival depended on not voicing the "wrong" thing, lest one craved scathing punishment. Conversations were pure emotion ~ heightened emotion. I've avoided heightened emotion ever since. Maybe in my writing world, that was a mistake.  

No, I'll never write a story that's a pure temper tantrum, but if I can't mine true emotion, what was all the pain good for? Life has been a series of tempering myself; towing the line. Do my books have to be fake, too?