I just passed the 10 year anniversary of self-publishing my
first book, One Sunny Night. Which grew into a bloated trilogy (with a prequel
novella) because I was trying to include my extensive list of “things I wanted
in my first novel.”
When I started writing these stories I was testing the
waters. Apparently in this day and age, the procedure is for one to develop their
own influencer-style presence, using social media to cultivate a following and
establish one’s branding. And after giving this a shot – including this blog –
I’ve concluded that while I’m good at writing, I’m not very good at this
particular form of showmanship.
For one thing, I’m always changing my mind. In order to be a
writer in modern America you need to choose a genre and a demographic, but I
have trouble settling. I started out in YA science fiction, tried a dark
romance but wasn’t happy with the outcome, then wandered over to horror and ran
into a fresh set of obstacles.
So I started thinking about what exactly I want to get out
of writing. I mean, I know I’m capable of writing well enough to sway hearts
and minds, and sometimes I even get paid for my efforts, but I also know I
really hate getting locked into a formula where I’m cranking out words I don’t
really believe in because I want the money, and I now realize how much I loathe
PR (this blog is kind of a testament to that; I keep deleting and re-inventing
it).
My initial motivation was social but … after some diligent
efforts and making some friendships among the 5% or so of SF fandom that I
actually get along with … It’s not for me. I have a lot of personal details
that diverge far enough from the norm to perpetually keep me in outsider
territory. And I never liked Star Trek. You sort of have to like Star Trek if
you’re going to be in American SF fandom.
I went to a few cons in my teens and early twenties, when I
was trying to find my people, but it turned out to be yet another of those
subcultures where I can blend but I don’t really feel like I’m at home. After
revisiting them in the last decade, my opinion hasn’t swayed. I will be at
Worldcon in August, for possibly my last convention, because (among other
things), an excerpt from Rhonda Wray: Raptor Wrangler is going to be in an anthology
of stories about dinosaurs in space, a narrow genre into which I fit. I’m kind
of hung up in a permanent impasse with co-author Sally over that book and won’t
go into details aside from mentioning a K-Pop Demon Hunters meets Jurassic Park
story might actually be marketable given the recent success of the former.
And for another, there are a few people who have blocked me
on Facebook so I want to flip them the bird in person. Also I would like to go
to Disneyland in a tax-deductable way, and this Worldcon is right nearby. So I’m
headed there. I’m only a casual Disney adult but I gotta have my Magic Kingdom
fix every few years.
I still intend to keep writing in some form or another, for
the public, like I’ve been doing since the ‘80s. However, I have lots of
creative identities. In addition to being a writer, I also play music. My
arthritis is keeping me away from dangerous ideas like starting a band, but I’ve
done some poems lately that might make good lyrics. I do textile arts like embroidery,
and quilting. Most recently, I started doing miniature fabric arts – costuming Labubus
like rock stars, which provides me with lots of entertainment. So I’m not sure
if I’ll end up spending my creativity points somewhere else.
It’s been an interesting decade and things look like they’re
about to get even more interesting.
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