I always loved stories. When I was a little kid my father
asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Without hesitation I happily replied,
“A famous writer.” When I graduated high school and was applying to colleges my
father asked me what I want to go to school for? I replied, “I want to be a famous
writer.” To which he replied lovingly; “Better have a backup plan.” I spent four
years majoring in psychology and philosophy.
When I graduated college my father gave me a book on how to
succeed in a corporate interview. He thought it might come in handy when I went
out looking for a job. I told him I appreciate all he’s done and his advice,
but I wanted to be a famous writer. A week later, I moved to Seattle WA, to
live out the hippie-writer life. That was in 1993.
I always dreamed of hitting it big with my books. Selling
millions of copies and spending my days sitting on a dock in Key West living
out the Hemingway dream while tourists and fans come up and asked for my
autograph. All through the 1990’s and well into the new millennium I worked
obsessively; writing, querying, making publishing connections, always with that
dream of getting famous pushing at the back of my mind and driving me to
sacrifice a normal, non-writing life.
For twenty years, I’ve penned novels, short stories, poetry,
screenplays, and blog posts. I’ve been recognized by several prestigious
writing groups and contests, been interviewed by television, newspaper, and
magazines, had a top NY agent for five years, and sold enough books to say I’m
mildly successful. But is that enough? I’m not famous.
As I sit here getting older, spending my days trying to get
the world to notice my work, I’ve come to the realization that I no longer want
to be famous. Getting famous is not so much about possessing raw talent
anymore, it’s about interviews, and skyping, and tweeting, and twerking, and
surrounding yourself with promoters and marketers who are only interested in
you making them money. Ask Miley Cyrus what she went through to make her new
album premier at #1 on the charts? A whole lot more than I’d want to do.
I no longer want to be famous because I’ve discovered that I
enjoy my anonymity. Recently, I attended a social event in which several people
there had read some of my books. I actually felt uncomfortable at the attention
they gave me. I would have rather talked about something other than myself that
night, but that’s just me.
I don’t write to inflate my ego or attract attention. I
write because I have to. I’m hard-wired to do it. I don’t want to invest the
tens of thousands of hours and dozens of people it takes to make me a
super-star author. I just want to write my books and tell my stories. To all
the authors out there spending thousands of hours and dollars trying to hit it
big, I applaud your efforts and hope you all become famous. Personally, I prefer
living in the shadows.
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