Lets put aside the for a moment the stress of regular life. In particular, the stress of owning a home, being a wage slave for an evil healthcare conglomerate, having a wife at home with two children under two years of age… the falling bathroom tiles, mold leaking into your home, and the leaky roof. Forget all of that, that non-important shit. Lets think about the new stresses we can add.
The annual publication.
There it is. Among all the other madness one could manage as a millennial living during a pandemic, we can now add the thought bomb of writing as a hobby. Ahh yes, the activity in which we were all taught would go away after the invention of the internet now creeps back in like a drunk friend at a college party who forgot his keys in the bathroom. That guy? Oh yeah, he was the frat president for quite a while but now he’s in his post grad years and barely hanging on. Whatever, he payed for his cup earlier, you can give him another.
I enjoyed writing, I really did. As a poor boy in the country I took full license in my first longer-than-normal creative writing assignments in high school. The thought that my creative works could be read and nay, enjoyed by someone other than myself was one of those ideas that we gave young people my age to make them feel like they could actually do something enjoyable with their time rather than just waste away at a gas station or man a restaurant bar at a wedding reception. I bought into that like Christians into QAnon. Horse shit though. Complete wheelbarrow soaking, suck your boot right off horse shit. The look of boredom on my teachers faces during my reading kind of put a pin it. Wow, neat, your development of this writing situation really puts the reader in the fearful shoes of your protagonist. You indented this paragraph in incorrectly, though, so fuck you, C+. Kimmy gets an A though, because her mom edited some fanfic drivel about Phoebe from “friends.”
Also, no. I don plan on capitalizing trash like that, it doesn’t deserve it.
Well, whatever. Here we are. Substack is a thing now. May as well get on that wave and paddle. I’m told you can actually make money at this. I was told that by the internet, though, so… maybe lets temper those expectations. I’m going to write for sure, well see how that works. Go down a road long enough and one should be able find something interesting. I just hope the road I’m on isn’t in the Sahara somewhere. Maybe someone can target advertise to the sand niche.
So it wont be good for a while, maybe even bad. It will happen though. It will most likely be poorly edited. Bored looks be damned. I cant see your faces anyhow.