Hi, this is Jace from the Literary Conquest blogspot. I’m changing my pen name to Lucas for some reasons too personal.
Whoever you are, I thank you for giving your time in reading this post of mine. If you don’t know I am, I just written a book, and you can call me (not Jace anymore) but Luke (let’s stick to my pen name). I’m almost finished editing the whole thing. It’s has been so many months doing that, and I’ve been in so much too. Many dreadful if not wonderful things.
I declared my internet isolation last year to edit the crap out of my book. And yes the book is so horrible I’m ashamed I posted it in amazon with all my pride and joy. For six (or seven?) months I’ve been scrutinizing every sentence and every comma, so let’s hope I get the positive results/comments I’ve needed for so long. Just so you know I have no editor—I had but both of them bailed on me. My first editor is a bright man, he's doing my book 2 but he has his job as a professor which require full time so I let him do whatever he wants (meaning not editing my book). My second editor is a nurse, a great gal but I decided I should stop her editing book one for the reasons that she is always busy and apathetic in updating me. Actually, both of them are apathetic in updating me (not that I blame them). So I was left alone, editing my own book even though I don’t trust myself in the subject of editing.
Other than my internet isolation, I also came to the point that my social life has been isolated too. Yes, by now, 2013, I have sacrificed social life just to write the Goddamn book few people have read. Yes I sound bitter because I’m bitter. I’m out of inspiring words to say and wonderful connections of unnoticeable rhymes I put in sentences. But this is what I’ve chosen, to write—even though my success would be as small as this dot (.) against this whole post.
And what is success to me? What is success for a real writer anyway? ... I guess to be read by readers, that’s all. I don’t like fame, it’s complicated, it’s messy, and it’s one of the reasons I change my pen name. All I want is to be read, that’s all—to be read by someone who is enthusiastic enough to converse me about the thing he/she likes in my book. If ever they liked my writing, I don’t want them to say how great writer I am because I’m not. It’s enough for me that they enjoyed it—that they smiled in the moments of my character’s interaction to each other—it’s enough from me that they read. That is success for me, no more, no less.
This few months taught me a lot… many wise shenanigans this universe wanted me to learn. One of them is writing is hard and emotionally exhausting. Indeed, you heard me, my friend, it is exhausting. If I have a time machine I’d go back in time and tell my 16yo self that think your writing career through, because it’s hard and in my timeline I’m struggling to survive, I don’t know my future timeline if they didn’t struggle but still think it through.
The second shenanigan the universe taught me is that social isolation sucks. I mean, my friends having their jobs and new friends and salaries and Friday night outs and social satisfaction while I’m sitting on my chair watching their lives go by is pretty much a downer. Well, there are more shenanigans but I can’t remember them from the time being.
And now, this hour, the pages I’ll be editing before republication of my book one is currently four. Few days from now I’ll republish it again with a few hopes and high dreams. I don’t need a ‘wish me luck’ or anything that can lift my spirits, I just want to be read.
Right… I think that’s my first post as Lucas. And I know how much depressing it sounds don’t worry, it’s just my social isolation speaking.
I’ll keep in touch.