Solomon Carter – not always angry
Today for some reason I’m pretty angry. I don’t know why. Last Friday
night I came home from the day job planning a righteous weekend and a
week off. By six pm I was ready to hurl, coming down with some stomach
bug. Black Canary (aged 6 months) threw first at 6pm. Then me at 7pm.
Then me again at 9pm. Then Mrs Carter at 11pm. Batman (3 years 4months)
beat us all by two whole days.
Since then I’ve been finding myself a little hard to bear, a bit
jaded, a bit angry. I don’t like being angry, but this modern life
thing is so hectic that I find myself kind of angry a fair bit of the
time. I don’t act it out. I just harbour it. Not good either way.
Raising the Flag of Jerkdom
So then this morning, Mothers Day, and I am up early, thinking about
ways to make it a good day, but I’m unusually angry and I read something
on self publishing on the Huff Post. It may have been an old thread, I
think it was, by some jerk with a beard wanting to stir up some self-pub
anger against himself so as to get some extra clicks. Journos love
that, like we all do, but this man was raising flag of jerkdom high
indeed.
I wanted to post a comment. The guy was essentially telling you and
me and the world at large that self pubishers have no chance, and never
have had. Well, I used to agree, wholeheartedly. But then kindle, Amazon
and ebooks changed the game completely, the scales fell from my eyes
and I got the lovely aroma of opportunity in my nostrils. The
opportunity I’d always needed.
The new writer’s playing field
I am a good writer, but the old game was not on a level playing
field. It was filled with patronage, nepotism, and flunkeys. The new
ebook order is more of a meritocracy. And I read a quote somewhere which
I liked which said if you’re good enough, you’ll be published an
succeed. And in this new game, I believe it. Because its true.
Hats off to Geoff Shaw. JA Konrath. John Locke, and the gang. You
don’t say its easy, but you say its available. And that’s the only
incentive I’ll ever need.
Write and keep writing. Make it good. Make it count. Publish.
Because doing what you’re born to do is a must, regardless of the way
its done. Following a dream is bigger than the rules of the game.
Destiny is on your side.
So to the Huff Post jerk, a royal up yours. You my friend write the
same stuff your rectum produces each morning. But I love you anyway.
The rest of you good people, scribble away. These days, opportunity is
everywhere if you really are good enough. And the good news is, maybe
you are!