It’s tough being a writer. Especially when it dictates your paycheck and not just your free time. Now I know, I know, there are people out there who think writers don’t do diddly … we sit around all day drinking coffee and chewing on pencils, reminiscing about the “good ol’ days” of longhand and pen-and-ink manuscripts … ah yes … those days. Strangely enough, when I write—although yes, I do punch away on a QUERTY board like most everyone else (unless they live in Zimbabwe, but as I have yet to meet any writers from Zimbabwe I can’t really speak to their creative means), I do still always have a pencil tucked up behind my ear. It’s an oddity, I suppose—but, it’s one of those things I do. It’s my version of a “thinking cap..” Wait. Am I dating myself here by admitting I like to write longhand? Nah, I mean it’s not like it’s a quill or anything. And no, I don’t have any slate around either.
But you know, when you think about it, it’s really quite amazing that anything substantial, and by substantial I mean more than 80,000 words, was ever written before the QUERTY came along. I mean just think about it … imagine Homer sitting around drinking his coffee and chewing on, eh, I dunno, twigs, when he realizes he’s made a mistake. Or that he needs to reword something. SIDEBAR: how the hell did he write the Odyssey without a thesaurus? What did do? He couldn’t just hit delete. Or backspace. Nor could he crumple up a piece of paper and toss it into the trash.
So yea, when you think about it … it’s pretty amazing that we have some of the ancient literature that we do. Which brings me sort of around to the topic I intended to hit on, marketing. Or self-promotion—nasty words for some, but one of those things that come along (even if unwelcomed) with being a writer. Because you have to do it. You have to be willing to push out the flattery and pump up your own writing because quite frankly, no one else (sans maybe your mother) can promote you, like you. And it’s hard work … like I said, it’s tough being a writer. Heck, I’m so busy reading and rereading my own writing and (gasp) doing those self-promoting things, that I barely have time to read anyone else’s blog … or book … or article … oh, and for the record, if Homer was alive and he blogged, I wouldn’t read him either. I mean talk about the king of run on sentence. Geesh!
Today’s post brought to you by The Daily One-word Prompt: Flattery.