Hello 3.5 Readers.
Yeah I know “The Man” looks like Informant Zero. Shutterstock ‘aint cheap, nerds.
Ahh, my younger days. That magical, pre-techno revolution time when I was able to blame my lack of a writing career on a mysterious, mythical, “man” or “The Man” as I called him.
Have you ever heard of “The Man?” He’s everywhere, you know. No one knows who he is or what he looks like, but everyone who isn’t where they want to be is certain this rapscallion is standing in the way.
Yes, 3.5, back when self-publishing meant you took the scribbles you made on a legal pad and sent them through the photocopying machine, I was able to sit back and blame my failure to become a published author on The Man:
BQB 1.0 (Before Self-Publishing)
Well, I might as well not waste my time writing because it’s not like The Man is going to allow anyone as sophisticated and subversive as I am to get published! Pass the Dorito bag and get me my video game controller!
I don’t know who I was bossing around there. My entire life, I’ve never known anyone willing to fetch me snacks or video game implements. Sad really.
In other words, I felt better. It wasn’t my fault. It was The Man’s fault.
You youngsters might find that difficult to believe but keep in mind this was all in the days before social media, back when if you took a picture of your lunch and walked around showing it to everyone, they’d all call you an asshole.
Where are you, The Man?
Oh how I miss you, now that the self-publishing revolution is here.
Without my precious scapegoat, here’s what I go through now:
BQB 2.0 – Post Self-Publishing
I’m tired and I miss my precious video games but now I must attempt to follow my longstanding dream to become a published author now that The Man has been overthrown by technology!
Without The Man to blame, I have to come to terms on all the reasons why I blame myself for my lack of writing success:
REASON #1 – I’m Not Good Enough
That will enter my brain from time to time, then I’ll see a scene on TV that will inspire me to persevere.
CASE IN POINT: On Game of Thrones, Tyrion was kidnapped by slaver traders who threatened to sell his dwarf appendage to a dwarf appendage merchant because in Westeros, dwarf appendages are thought to bring good luck.
MY RESPONSE: Where’s my laptop? George RR that sea captain hat wearing SOB is making a mint off this shit. Surely, I can come up with something half as witty as lucky dwarf appendages and at least make a little beer money.
Oh The Man. How I miss you. You used to keep this thought at bay:
REASON #2 – There Isn’t Enough Time
There is and there isn’t. If you want to work all day and then come home and work all night, then yes, you’ll find time to write a novel. It’s up to you if you want to work all day AND night and not do something crazy like sniff some fresh air, take a walk, or go to the bathroom.
The Man used to make me feel better on wasting all that precious writing time in the bathroom. Now I just sit there on the bowl, cursing myself for losing those few precious moments of productivity that could have been spent writing.
Where have you gone, The Man? Where have you gone? I need you back:
REASON #3 – There’s No Assistance Available
CORRECTION: There used to be no assistance available. Now, thanks to self-publishing, there’s a whole cottage industry of editors and cover artists waiting to help you if you’re willing to invest in them.
Time was The Man stood between folks like that and myself. Now they’re easy to find and their help is readily available.
Come back, The Man!
REASON #4 – I’m Not One of the Beautiful People
BACK THEN: I’ll never get a book out because I have the looks and charm of a cactus and only certain well bred classy people get books published.
TODAY: Underdogs are tearing it up in the self-publishing industry and everyone cheers for them.
Oh The Man. How I miss you. I was able to blame you for my failures, but now, thanks to self-publishing, the only man I can blame when my book isn’t out there is myself.
RIP
THE MAN
The Beginning of Time – The Past Few Years, Give or Take
Yes, I’m being facetious. Yes, I realize even if my stuff never gains an audience wider than 3.5 readers, the time I spend writing is still better spent than being transfixed to TV (even though, holy shit, it’s better now than it ever was, let me tell you.)
I recognize what miraculous times we live in that whether your book is a blockbuster or a dud, at least the tech is available to allow you to say, “I GAVE IT A TRY” and check “WRITE A BOOK” off your bucket list.
I’m not “old” but I’m getting older and as the years move on, I realize:
- I’m probably not going to be playing for the NFL.
- The fine scientists at NASA might not recruit me as an astronaut as my younger self once assumed they would.
- Katee Sackhoff, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, isn’t going to marry me. (Don’t tell Video Game Rack Fighter I said that.)
- I’m not going to be president, which really, is more of a detriment to the country than to me, what with my proposed, “Let’s everyone stop playing grabass and get down to some serious shit here!” initiative.
But while pro-football, intergalactic space travel, Katee Sackhoff, and the Oval Office are all dreams that are fading fast, I am pleased to say that “publishing a book” is a dream of mine that is more realistic and plausible today than it ever was when I was a kid, thanks to the marvels of technology.
Shit. I’d better get a book out there before The Man figures out a way to shut this self-publishing thing down.
Back off, The Man!
Bookshelf Battle 