Eclectic Has No Audience
A journey of self-discovery in writing and finding my voice
When I started, I was lost. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was writing and writing but nothing was moving. I wrote articles, I wrote poems, reviews, stories and blogs. I wrote about hockey and Marvel, I even posted some songs. I chronicled my caregiving and my journey with God — the lessons from Batten Disease and preached the need for more love. I commented and clapped, and I shared what I liked. I did what I could but I was losing the fight.
I messed up. I broke the rules. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to. I was condemned and I was jailed, never boosted, I failed. With no guidance, no mentors — no one here to show me the ropes. I kept writing and learning and tried to climb out of my hole. I kept fighting. I was yearning for a second chance to show my worth. I kept trying. It felt hopeless. No matter what, I felt worse. No claps and no comments, barely a penny for my work. I was obsessed with analytics, checking daily, and it hurt.
I gave up. I just quit. I walked away for a while. I was fighting with myself and my literary trial. I wondered, was I fit, to even write what I wanted? Was I helping or after wealth? This wasn’t what I plotted.
I’m eclectic and wide-ranging, there’s no audience for my strangeness, enigmatic and…
