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 |  Blog and other works of literary sense |
| Here is a collection of ruminations and whatnot. |
| I'm thinking deeply about this career as a writer. I find it very unrewarding. I took my MFA and graduated with Distinction. I felt confident that my work was good and that my stories were interesting enough to gain an audience. However, i was met with resistance from literary agencies and publishers and made to go with POD publishers who wanted my money and I had to spend inordinate amounts of it to get my book published. People smelled money and started to invite me to go with them instead. It was a mess. Now I'm unable to support myself with whatever 'royalties' that I receive. I have written several novels and nonfiction stories and can't afford to promote except through my own social media. I do have followers for my FB pages but I suspect these are people who only want to see me fail. These people aren't sincere and never really comment on my books. I've been reduced to ask for donations from people who look at my website. It's not a problem to ask for donations as many people do this regularly. But I am afraid that I am getting hacked. My book ideas have had the risk of being hacked by those who sell these ideas on the black market to give for a handsome sum of money to established authors. One of them is a man whose books have been best sellers but he's struggling with trying to get some more story ideas so he goes into the black market. I cannot prove this however, but there is that big thought that many authors are doing this regularly. Some of them have won awards that are prestigious. I'm aware that there is a time lag between the time a new author gets to publish her first book and gets an audience. I'm meeting with silence and I am not sure why that is. I wish people would make any comments so I know what it is they are asking for when they read a book I write. In my MFA program people in the faculty never really addressed the difficulties of getting recognized as a published author. They went through the usual folderol of how to get an agent and get published. My work is getting blacklisted I think by those Ivy League publishers and agencies that hate that I went to Yale to work. The Yale experience has been described in my book On Days Like This. I'm aware that some political people hate that. They've seemingly closed ranks against me. What I've gotten is a great sensitivity for haters and their thoughts. I'm constantly pained by their hateful thoughts. So much so that I cannot find a job that's a regular job where I could at least find an income to pay bills and keep body and soul together. These haters have grouped together to get to me every day and keep me under a cloud of depression and immobility. There are so many times that I've tried to put things together in some coherent way and these haters send me distracting thoughts that take away the potency of my words. It's as though the whole world is against me. I know it sounds dramatic, but I am finding it a huge obstacle to even keeping alive. It's very tough to be a writer and to get an audience. I'm not here to get rich or be famous. i'm here to be a voice to show that there are people who I feel that in a story I could find them to speak out for their difficult lives and how they've overcome their demons. I'm not sure how to go on with my writing life. I wish I could sell retail or work in a coffee house or even in an office. But the haters are ever so wishful of that because then I'd be caught in a trap where I'll be physically wounded by their evil thoughts. The last time I tried to get a job it was at Macy's. I reported for the job on the first day. I was filling out forms and getting oriented but I was attacked by an evil spirit who was good at making me feel as though my body was being stabbed and my fingers sliced off. I couldn't stay and left after two hours. Now I see that Macy's is closing stores and laying off a great number of staff. I think that God knew about what I went through and gave His judgment on Macy's. I do not wish to make everyone feel as though I'm whining or making people feel guilty. I'm wondering what it is that I have to do now that I'm finding it more difficult to get through this career. I don't want to be a whore about my career. I'm an upstanding writer who is honest and good. I wish people would give me a chance. But I don't know anymore whether the inspiration to write was from an evil spirit. Perhaps it was and now I'm trying to combat this evil that made my life go haywire. I was working at an office and doing well but I was marginalised and people were racially against me. i suppose i was also known to be the Queen of England and that made things more complicated. is the reason I'm not getting my books sold is that I'm the Queen and for whatever reason Queens don't sell books they write? I find this a sad thing because i've not really been informed by someone in authority that I am the Queen of England. It's all whispers at this time. I think the world is knowing that I'm Queen and they can't do anything to help, or can't be bothered, or both. Life is so filled with duties and other problems that people who might have had some significant roles to help me aren't able to do much. So I'm here left alone and I am not sure how my life will move forward. Each day is a battlefield of thoughts and haters. I can't even rely on those who I used to pray to so that they could help. Everyone's guarded. I'm guarded by good people but many of the other guards I have are bastards. I can't see how to go through this life. I prayed to Jesus to take me home but I think he wants me to stay. For what reason? Just to be someone who calls things as they are? Where can I find any way to live off of this job? I live in a world where money is needed to keep a house and transport, and feed the family. I'm fortunate that I still have a home. I am thinking that someone is out to get me to be so poor that I'll be forced to sell my body just to get to pay a bill or food for the house. I refuse to do this. I'm not sure what more to say. I'm not happy at all. I might look cheerful to people outside but inside I'm suffering. I can't see how to continue this facade that 'nothing is wrong'. Something is very wrong with my life. I need to find someone who can reach out and give me a way to live the rest of my life. I'm on Medicaid and I'm grateful that this is something that I have. My medications are few and one of them is threatening to make me sick because of yet another problem with a nurse practitioner who switched my meds and now I'm still going through healing because the new med is toxic. I'm not happy at all. I feel as though the menace against me has become so large that people everywhere I go in this town are all doing their part in hurting me and making me have a short life. |
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