I see it’s the fashion nowadays to promote yourself as an important voice in your field, even, um. . .well before you achieve that pinnacle. While this isn’t anything particularly new, I am just a wee bit tired of all the folks who seem to believe that the only way to success and glory is to preempt it, and to realize one’s greatness out-loud, loudly, and often for all to hear.
Being a writer really does not convey Heavenly Status upon anyone. You are not a superior person because you are a writer; you are not even a superior person if you are a “successful” writer, whatever that means this week. Being a writer may mean that you’re clever, or that you can write good sentences — though not necessarily. Mostly, though? It means you have a weird job that pays the top few percent of practitioners really, really well; rewards another — not necessarily the same, though there’s occasionally some overlap — small percentage with awards and accolades, and pretty much ignores the rest, by which I mean the Greatest Number of People Working.
Just like, oh — Real Life.
I suppose it could be fair to say that, if you are a writer, you have a need to be noticed, and the internet does make it easy to scream “me, Me, ME!” — and I’ll be the first to admit that you need an ego made out of titanium in order to cope with much of what’s just Standard Practice in the industry. Certainly, in the spirit of Full Disclosure, the internet has done well by Lee & Miller, for values of “well” that do not include investing us with the Wisdom of the Ages.
Just occasionally, like today — and yesterday, and the day before yesterday, too — I wish that we would all of us at one time decide to turn off our computers, and our phones, and our tablets, rise up from the desk, take our kids, or our dogs, or our SOs — leave the house, and walk up over the hill for a dandelion break.
It could do a world of good.
Today’s blog post brought to you by The Spin Doctors, “Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong.” Here’s your link.
Your post made me think of a Bloom County strip where Opus walks out and sits on a hill of dandelions. You are correct that we need this more often.