Sunday, January 1, 2017

An insult to the written word? Brush that dirt off your shoulder

I have no idea why I read it. The minute I saw the title I rolled my eyes and I swear I meant to close the window. Instead, I clicked onto the page and stupidly, read it. And sure enough I was pissed off, completely and utterly pissed. When I finished I muttered questions about the writer's intelligence, her parentage, and several other rude things. Then I got up flushed the toilet-it seemed fitting I read it in the morning during my daily constitutional. But by the time I had washed my hands and began to get dressed I was giggling and by the time I was putting the coffee on I was laughing. Then the coffee was done and I didn't give it another thought until I saw references pop up in my facebook feed as I went about my day and whenever I saw it I shrugged it off. This was the exact same reaction I had to my first troll review. 

And here's the thing, that article, essay, post whatever it is, is just that: a troll review of the self-publishing community and the writers within it. Troll-make a deliberately offensive or provocative online posting with the aim of upsetting someone or eliciting an angry response from them.

The writer didn't make any insightful revelations, did not offer any valid reasoning, or educate the reader. This person knew what she was writing was offensive and didn't care. (I had to delete a Trump joke-it wasn't easy) What this writer wrote isn't new-JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I HAVE HEARD THIS SHIT BEFORE. Sorry, deep breathe then exhale. 

Although writers everywhere on facebook were defensive-as the troll wanted them to be, slightly hurt, as the troll wanted them to be, and for maybe just a second questioned their very existence and the way they do things-as the troll wanted them to do. They also took a deep breath and then went-Fuck that bitch, she doesn't know what she's talking about. I have worked for years, hour upon hour, given up time with my family and friends, went to work half asleep so I could write through the night. I have put in the work and just because I refuse to let someone who hasn't written a fucking book tell me if I'm good enough to get past a gate make or break me doesn't mean I'm not good enough. Here's the thing, those gatekeepers don't care about prose, they care about being able to sell something. How the fuck else has Snookie become an 'author' if that were really fucking true? Yeah, I've read a lot of bad indie authors but I've read a SHIT TON of bad published authors too. I want to name names but I won't because it isn't the point.

Yes, writers were defensive and hurt but only because although we've heard this shit before it's been a while. It was a few years ago when all that whining that indies aren't real writers shit finally stopped because the publishing houses started paying those indies to publish and they wound up right beside the author who had previously pissed on indie authors. Then the indie authors started selling their insults to the written word to television and movies. To name just a few-Wayward Pines, The Martian, Still Alice, 50 Shades-ok 50 shades isn't a great argument but whatever, it happened. To name a few and there are dozens more still in production. So hmmmm....the insults maybe weren't that insulting after all?

What the troll believes doesn't mean a thing to me and it shouldn't to any other writer. Writers don't write for agents or publishers or other authors, they write because they need to, they have a story to tell and they are writing for readers. A reader who seeks to enjoy, to get lost in the story, to believe in love, to believe in magic, to believe in themselves and the world, that there is good and evil but that good wins as it sometimes so rarely seems to do in real life. To believe they could be as brave one day as they would like to be and to believe that love is real and exists and it might not be easy but it's worth all the work. 

I have written since I was eight years old. All I ever wanted to be was a writer. In fits and starts, for months then years I wrote even when I never believed I would be able to publish. I read the masters-not all seemed that masterful-I read for knowledge, I read for fun. I didn't read to please anyone but myself. I write to please no one but myself but somehow that doesn't matter because I'm lucky enough to have readers love what I write. 

I have written fourteen titles as Fiona Murphy and everyone of them taught me more about myself then I had known before. I started writing them to please readers but I ended up writing them the way the characters demanded to be written and when I was done I held my breath and I hit publish. In responding to readers I have chatted with they have told me they read all fourteen of the books I've written. That humbles the shit out of me. I'm floored. I'm in awe. I thank them with tears I'm glad are hidden by corresponding through email and I have asked how I can pay them back. The question came out of nowhere but came up every time-how can I pay you back by giving me the gift of liking what I have written enough to read it all? Their response each time is simple: don't stop writing. 

So I'm not going to stop writing and self-publishing. The troll and all the other trolls are just some dirt to brush off my shoulder.

And by the way, I tried ONCE to read a Brad Thor book and it was so shitastic I didn't even make it half way through. 










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