Asking for help or to be seen is that example for me. I did a little research this past year. I’ve posted pictures and paid attention to the reactions, I’ve made pointed posts noting interactions. The biggest is I looked at my Facebook memories almost every day to get a feel for what I did and didn’t do as far as trying to be seen or asking for help.
In a way this was foolish. What do you think it showed me? That I am loved and cherished? Or just like most alone and average? Well I can tell you any time I asked for help it got zero likes. I can also tell you that a picture of me and my wife or kids even though no one knew why I took the picture, those received close to 60 reactions.
I thought about posting or not posting about this but I feel it’s important to humble yourself and walk in reality. With that here I am.
I will say there are some who hold a high place in my heart and I appreciate them.
This time last year I released my second book. I felt like I had so much momentum going into the week of the release. It was the biggest failure I’ve ever faced. I believe I gave away more than I sold (I didn’t give away that many) in the last year.
I thought I’d do podcast and get my name out there… also a flop. When polled most people didn’t know I’d even been on a few. So I posted links everywhere. Waited two months and put up the same poll. Wouldn’t you know it? Same result. At this point I looked inward, what can I change what pride can I swallow?
So I changed my book profiles from book specific to more me. I think that actually hurt more than it helped. I got really discouraged. A friend (yes a real one) started doing book reviews about the same time. I found myself growing jealous of how quickly it grew. Not in an angry way but in a “it really is me” kinda way.
I think the best worst part about that was they even did a review on my book and gave it a 4.5 out of 5. That’s awesome but the level of failure I felt at this point, it felt like they were just being nice. Just like everyone else that has read my work up to that point.
What happened next? I dropped all my creative work. The new story I was crafting, things I wanted to build. I had just rebuilt my want to create. I lost a pet and it hit me hard. After all of that I found myself back in a familiar element.
With covid in a rear view vaccinated and feeling like maybe it’s a fresh start. I went back to a sport I love. (Mind you some of this is happening at the same time) helping a new group become who they’ve always been. Watching them grow and take on all the challenges that came with picking up a new sport. I again found that spark. I wanted to write I wanted to create. (Now the timelines are all synced up) BOOM the hits kept coming. Again I was humbled.
If you’re still with me, this is not meant to be a bleeding heart story. It is I guess but this is the point I want to most get across. I pride myself on being as real and authentic as I can. This makes me an asshole in most circles. I can deal with that. I can deal with failure as a writer. The thing that hurts the most is seeing how many times I asked for help and it went unanswered. What hurts was while seeing how those asks were invisible to most; the same people where posting about “reach out if you need anything” and all that other garbage feel good “I’m a good person right?” Crap. What I hope you can take away from this is: do the work, not everyone is your friend (that includes family unfortunately), don’t claim to be a supportive friend and not hit the damn share button.
The last thing I wanted to say, after the BLM movement took strong hold and “buy black” and “support black business, creators, artists” became the hashtags, I became bitter because I wasn’t seeing any of that support. I had to apologize for that. So that brings me here, I was born to create, and I can’t ignore that. I will keep writing but will you ever see it by choice or otherwise? TBD. MH-
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