Bugs on the semi’s windshield

Just finished reading a well thought out and well-written article called Social Media Suicide by M.J.Rose.

I bristle at the thought of mindlessly following mass thinking. Tell me something is necessary and I’ll poke holes at it. Tell me if I want to get ahead I must jump on the same overloaded vehicle as others and I’ll smile as I rip-screech my nails down a blackboard.

They say being social is part of our human make-up. I think I missed that gene in my creation. I am not a social butterfly – I am more like the closet moth.

I regenerate my steam by being alone. I don’t gather it from others, at least not in the long run. So many of these social connections and gatherings are like semi over-loads of nervous, high energy that, in the end, make me feel like I’ve been run over.

And now I know I’m not alone in feeling this way.

As a writer I am always amazed at those writers who jump in and offer help via workshops, conferences, forums, newsletters, websites or blogs. They are blessed as teachers and they offer big steps up on the learning curve. No—it’s more the social hand-shaking and back–patting within the writing community once our creations are completed that I don’t understand. Is too much energy going into the socializing with other writers? Socializing that gives us status within the writing community but doesn’t really sell our book.

I don’t have the answer. I only have questions. Am I right or am I wrong in my thinking? I don’t know. I just know that for people who think like me, that part of the writer’s world may well be the hardest road to travel in the whole process.

So for now, I’m just going to revel in the writing journey; enjoying those sparks of genius when they strike, revel in the rush of a new discovery found during research than often sends me head-first down another distracting but fascinating side-street.

Because—if I’m not enjoying the journey, that what’s worth rewarding?

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