Going Backwards to Build Back Up.
Blog about stopping everything. Going back to the old books and reading them, enjoying them and once again editing them.
I am not a static individual, in fact I move around so much in my plans that I often give myself emotional whiplash from the instability. But its Friday and normally at this point during the week I post a blog updating any readers still lurking in the shadowy parts of this site, so lets have a chat about goings backwards to build things back up again.
Writing has been devoid of meaning for me ever since I hitched my wagon to Amazon for self publishing, I never felt satisfied, even as the numbers of sales crept up week-on-week. So I stepped back and pulled my work from the disgusting depths of KDP that has done untold damage to the writing industry through its tolerance for AI generated books and its acceptance of unfinished, quick to shelf books that barely manage to piece together coherent sentences. Anyone can write a book, with the help of AI (fuck AI), literally anyone with a piece of tech in their hands can get a story published on Amazon.
I am ranting again, lets get the fuck past Amazon once and for all. I am drawing a line in the sand. This will be the last time I ever mention that monopoly generating shit stain company on my blog again.
So I am going backwards. I dont feel particularly calm about the idea of my work being unavailable to potential readers for the foreseeable future, on the flip side I feel very in control of my work for the first time in a very long time. I have zero pressure currently and have spent my last week - when I am not working - just reading my old completed stories again. I have edited and re-read the packet of crisp story, which I think is still on the website, the short story Release and the recently finished short story "Little Melting Giants". It might sound really gross to hear, but I am really enjoying reading my old work. My style of writing has clearly developed into its own unique style and I hadnt noticed that until I finally sat down to read my own books. Look at me, blowing my own greasy trumpet.
Now you might be asking the question, just like I am: "But John-J, what does this mean for people that want to read your work?".
Well, firstly, thank you for using my full name. Secondly, I am working on some exciting submissions to horror magazines as we speak for these completed and re-edited short stories. I want to do this the old fashioned way, I want to be in a magazine or on some horror website that might attract some new fans. Fuck, isnt that what writers dream of? Having their name up somewhere they dont own or control, that feeling of acknowledgement that we all say we dont need.
Long term, I want to get published traditionally. That is the vulnerable behind the curtain truth of the matter and something I am now striving towards. I dont need anything from you lovely readers, perhaps just keep coming back and reading my mindless unravellings and pointless timewasting blog posts so I can keep the literary oily cogs turning inside my big bald dome.
I feel excited about writing for the first time in a long time, thanks for sticking with me while I keep building sandcastles and kicking them over. Until next time, keep your napkins crusty and think of me when you clean your ears.