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ON BEING AN AUTHOR

The greatest problem of an author is not running out of ideas. It is running out of money. Worse, it is not making a dime with each oeuvre. One works to death for the void, finding no audience, and no payment. When finding an audience, there’s still no payment.

Here I am blogging, to keep a non-paying audience, still with the illusion of making it grow enough to the point of being paid for add space. This is so silly. It won’t happen. My content isn’t comercial enough.

Being an original author is no way of making a living. One has to be trendy, fashionable and formula rendering to get some income. It’s a matter of finding a tasteful recipe for the crowd and serve pudding over and over again, just like Hollywood. Some illuminated call this recipes genres. The more you follow the recipe, the better author you are.

There are also some enlightened critiques defending the idea of compromise between originality and recipes for success. Those shrunk brains don’t understand that compromise means loss of new meaningful content, which is cut out to be replaced by standards. It is commercial censorship and soul amputation.

Who am I kidding, then, with my silly project? Both this site and CHRONOS will never make me money to survive. I will only make it through commissions, as a drawing and copywriting machine. A working author, I suppose.

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BLOGGING PROPERLY

I wish I knew how to blog properly. I am talking about making money with it, obviously. As far as I can tell, there are two major kinds of blogs: the How To blogs and the Look At Me blogs. Both can promote services. Internet gurus say money is on the first kind of blogs, unless you’re some kind of celebrity or influencer.

When I say blogging it includes any kind of social media posting, like Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, LinkedIn, Pinterest and what not. It is very difficult to me to achieve any sort of success in this virtual universe because I don’t like it enough. If the door to affordably promote my services and my art was another, I would probably eliminate all my Internet profiles and stay away from the computer.

Most of How To blogs are very specific or rather redundant and deceiving. Pretending to be an expert is highly recommended in the blogging sphere. The Internet becomes a giant sales channel. That’s the main purpose of it as a business. The Look At Me blogs of influencers are the new generation of commercials.

People like me, who strive to make a living with their art and have creative projects of plain and simple aesthetic value, try hard to survive in the dog world of commerce. I avoided it for twenty years, having a daytime job that ruined my mental health. Now I’m trying to learn how to play the game without getting my soul dirty. I hope my mind doesn’t collapse.

My blog and site is growing, but it’s not exactly a success. I wonder if I’m not just wasting time and energy with this and social media. I might give up of posting daily. I really don’t know.

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I Can’t Sell A Damn Thing, And I’m Not Sure If I Want To

I’m really not good at this. Commerce is not my thing. The blog and the Etsy shop are only a desperate attempt to find an alternative to my soon to be abandoned job. I’ve been doing my best to leave in style, that is, without a gap between sources of income, but that is not going to happen. People like my stuff but only very few actually buy items. I find joy when people appreciate my designs and writings, but appreciation is not enough to make a living.

My job prospection feverishly continues with no results to date. Things were already bad before the pandemic. This is not unexpected. I held the fantasy of creating my own job, either through the Etsy shop, this blog or the freelance platforms. Nothing seems to work. I’ve been spending all my energies on becoming a commercial asset at the expend of creativity, but the sacrifice is useless. I now realize more clearly how ancient this effort is and to what extent it stole my life from me. It is at least as old as my professional career, which I intended to leave as soon as I would find myself able to survive as an author.

Things would have been much easier if my professional occupation was not such a violent and weary one. I had the naivete of believing that my love for learning and explaining as well as the importance I give to education would make me an inspiring teacher. I had my moments of success, among peers, students and parents, and some of the utmost dread. In time I reached to the point of burning out. I am totally uncapable of getting back to the classroom, no matter how I hold children in my heart. It is just too much for me. I gave my best until nothing is left.

All I want is a quiet job that doesn’t make me think too much and with enough wage too pay my bills. I’ve been applying for jobs such as warehouse operator, picking and delivery operator, supermarket operator, distribution driver, shop assistant and what not. Refusals succeed, but I still have hope.

I have this tendency to share my thoughts to the public as if they have some interest or value to others. I display my life craving for love. This vanity or personality cult is an awful thing, a weakness still out of my control. Advertising about my shop and blogging to attract potential buyers only make it worse. You have no idea of how much I long for the quiet simple job and the return to my cocoon of creativity, out of worries around commercial success and artistic recognition.