I've Outgrown Many Aspects of Publishing I Used to Care About

I've had a mind shift recently, which I believe signals the end of my interest in publishing. Firstly, my author email account is bursting with unread messages, and while I occasionally scroll through them, none of them appear interesting enough to open. (In fact, I have 96 of them!) These tips about growing my email list, various "opportunities", even Jessie Cunniffe's daily blurb writing solicitations, which are a fun read, have no relevance to me. 

I hate being "that person", the one who reminisces about things they used to do, which is why I rarely mention my songwriting career. "Well, son, in my day...." No one wants to hear that---it's tedious. And times and methods change. I can't relate to the way songs are written now, so what possible advice would I have to offer a new songwriter? So, I refuse to become the old-timer who waxes poetic about how stories used to be written. 

"You're saying you didn't use AI, Grandma?"

"What's AI?"

(Spoiler alert: I actually know what AI is, but you get my point.) 

My trouble is, I still like writing, which is why I try to post here at least a few times a week, but is that all there is? No offense; I like my blog. In fact, right now it's my favorite writing form. But I'm starting to feel useless, used up. If I don't, at some point, open and read those 96 emails, I'm going to run out of topics to comment on. 

On the subject of emails, back when I fell for the writing contest scam, I apparently entered one that offered free feedback. Oh, goodie! So, the other day I received a communication from one of the contest judges, which began with something like, "Keep in mind that this is not written from the perspective of a reader, but rather..." And that's when I closed out of it. Why do I want or need to read this anonymous judge's criticisms of my novel? What benefit would I derive from that? It probably ends with, "For your next book, you might want to..." There is no next book! So, all you're doing is dumping on me; making me feel bad. Who the hell are you, anyway? I already know that no one wants my novel. That's what sales reports are for. Maybe I prefer to end my career on a happy note; not be subjected to more rejection.

As for the reboot of my third novel, while I want to republish it (just for me), I sure don't feel like working on it. I know it needs fixing, but the thought of that is approximately as appealing as a visit to the dentist. And the pain involved is pretty much equal. Maybe I could ask AI to rewrite the first chapter (kidding!) Looking back on it, it's clear that I had no idea where I was going with the story, so it took a really long time to get to any semblance of a point. Once it got there, the story picked up dramatically, but that long trip down the deserted highway is making me sleepy. There aren't even any interesting roadside attractions. So, while it'd be a shame to waste my nicely-created cover and my pretty good blurb, I'm not seeing that reboot happening anytime soon.

Speaking of blurbs, I inadvertently found myself in a political argument with a person on X, and we traded (I guess) insults for a bit. Then the guy's last insult audaciously included a note that he'd "rewritten" my novel's blurb for me. I didn't think anyone ever delved into the long-form bio that X allows a user to include. For the longest time, I didn't even know that feature existed, but once I found that option, I went with it. Although my account is under my real name and I obviously employ a pen name for my writing, I figured, what could it hurt to expound on my "other self"? Maybe someone on X who liked me might buy a copy of my book.

I hadn't anticipated that this info could be used against me by someone I disagreed with. So, okay, smartass, you rewrote my blurb. This'll be fun (aka "mean"). And he didn't do it via a DM, but as a comment for all the world to see. Shit. What had I gotten myself into? Now I'll be a laughingstock.

Except, here's the thing: He wrote a really good blurb! What's up with this guy, this enemy? I was already formulating a snarky retort in my mind before I chanced to read his version, but now all I could say was, "Actually, that's pretty good." And I thanked him. Turned out, he's a decent guy. His tone completely changed, and he set about trying to convince me of his political stance. While it didn't work, I responded that we could agree to disagree, and I thanked him again.

Will I use his version? Maybe. I'd have to reread it. But I did do a screen capture. I'm rather knocked off balance by the experience, albeit in a good way. 

As you can tell from this post, my thoughts are scattered right now. I've veered from self-pity to realization to...whatever else I wrote.

Oh, and if you're looking for a follow-up on my former teacher search, I've now decided not to contact her. Not the ending you were hoping for, no doubt, but the downsides outweigh the potential upsides. It was a fluke---a two-or-three-day fluke, sure, until I finally tracked her down, but if you feel the urge to try to convince me otherwise, I'm open to your thoughts. I think, to me, the hunt was the prize in itself. 

Today, my goal will be to sift through those 96 unread emails. I need to establish some order in my life, dammit!