“Confidence is going after Moby Dick in a rowboat and taking the tartar sauce with you.”
― Zig Ziglar

I have a new respect for bloggers since I started writing for my website. It keeps me busy. Before, when I was writing my book I was more static, stationary in terms of where my writing mind was. Now, I have to be able to move from one thing to the other, be it writing about writing or working on a fantasy story or something else. As a blogger, I’m still “filling out” so to speak. I enjoy it, but the freedom of it can be daunting.

I spent so much time every day writing my novel, which I am pitching to literary agents that I rarely, if ever, peeked out of that world to write anything else. Now, a little over a year away from finishing the book and working to get it traditionally published, I have found new latitude to play with as far as writing goes. I think blogging, or at least attempting to, has improved my writing agility to some degree. It has given me better range.

Some days it feels like I’m typing my life into some great, yawning maw of obscurity. It’s a bit frightening. To think all the work you’ve done, all the time you’ve spent and words you’ve strung together over the years might be for nothing. It might be a tad dramatic to say as much, but I think the fear itself is legitimate. But isn’t this what every writer ever has had to go through? Is this not what I trained for? Am I not entertained?

I remember when I got my first rejection from a literary agent, I was telling a friend about it, and he said, “You’re in the game now.” He’s right. It took me a long time to get to that point, where I was ready to throw myself into this massive Thunderdome* of literary proportions, but here I am. “Two men enter, one man leaves?” No. It’s not that easy.

Writing is like being born or dying, you do it alone, and it’s painful. Querying though, that is something else entirely. Being a writer is a funny thing. You spend most of your time in your own head, up in the clouds or down in the dungeons but rarely with everyone else around you. Then, when you’re done putting what you’ve seen on paper, you have to become an outgoing introvert. You have to ask a stranger who has never been to your world to enter it, understand it, and be your champion.

The game has changed over the years, even in the years I’ve been writing, training, and honing my ability to get to this moment. I don’t know for certain if it’s better or worse, harder or easier, it’s just the way it is. One thing I am sure of though, is that it takes a certain kind of mettle to keep going. Whether it’s straight out bravado, confidence or insanity I don’t know. Whatever it is, I have it and so does everyone else who knows what I am talking about.

Fifty years ago, writers typed their manuscripts on a typewriter, had to go through them page by page, make their edits, and then retype it. When he was writing, On the Road, Jack Kerouac famously taped a string of pages together to feed into his typewriter so he could continuously work without stopping to put in a new page.

Back then, once the edits were done and their book was ready, the writer had to mail it to an editor (actually put the manuscript into an envelope, take it to the post office, and mail it.) There was no world wide web then. There were no bloggers, Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. In those days, social media required people to be, well, social. You had to go places and meet people. Back then, there wasn’t anything but a newspaper, magazine or a book that would connect the minds of writers with the rest of the world. There was just a man or a woman in a room tip-tapping the keys and slapping ink on paper. Nowadays we can post content on our websites by phone. Back then, you had to physically go to a phone, not carry one around in your pocket.

Today, there are so many platforms to post your work, whether it is your writing, your art, or random thoughts and observations. It’s a great way to get your words out there and I am glad for it. I came a little late to the social media game though, and it is still an adjustment for me.

I wonder how well Shakespeare would have done with Twitter. He wouldn’t be able to send sonnets, he’d have to settle for haikus.

Shakespeare changed everything. He brought common English to the elites of the world and made it legitimate. He brought high art to the common folk. He united the people of the streets with the people of refined society and their lofty heights. He tied heaven to earth and now we all have the same language, though our economical demarcations remain.

How would the world be different if history’s great authors, poets and playwrights had social media? What would T.S. Elliot be like on Facebook? How about Van Gogh on Instagram? Had he been on social media, a man like Charles Bukowski might have ruled the world.

In today’s arena of self-published authors, it is a little intimidating trying to publish through the old ways. Getting an agent is not so simple. It certainly is not as easy as I had initially thought it would be. This has been quite the learning experience for me. Then, how often is something as easy as you thought it would be? I may have to self-publish. It is a thought that has occurred to me. I am still holding out for the traditional way, which is a testament either to my stubborn resolve or to a fear of the unknown. It’s still too early to tell.   

Every day on Twitter or Instagram, I see new notifications of authors who have published their novels and hold up their brand new, shiny books for all to see. There may be more writers in the world now than there has ever been, and that makes the Thunderdome decidedly more crowded. There’s more competition, more fellow writers vying for the page. That makes it harder, yes, and easier for my voice to get lost in the clamoring cacophony of voices. That just means I have to be sharper, I have to be better than I was yesterday.

Writing is exercise for the soul. It can make you stronger, deeper and perhaps more fit to be human. In the end, having more writers ultimately makes for a richer world, and maybe that is enough.   

If you enjoy 80’s pop culture references and movies as much as I do, then click below for a treat. Thanks for reading! *Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985)