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The delusion of first published "stardom"

So on social media, I have a lot of "aspiring writers" of novice writers I associate with. I've been doing this crap for a few years,
so it kind of builds up like plaque on your teeth. But I've always noticed that most of these people? When they first get published
somewhere? They become real like....unrealistic about it. And I'm not trying to be mean. Because I was very proud when a paying
magazine accepted my first short story. And it IS something to be proud of. Every writer should beam with happiness to have his
or her first work accepted in a published format.

But one of these people, and he's just one example of many I know....they take it to this hilariously extreme level? Like this dude,
because he got a poem published in a small press anthology is now constantly on social media like....

"What I really hate most about my popularity now? Is that my girlfriend is becoming so effected by it.
She thinks I'm going to leave her because I have all these people reading my poem. I just love her so much
and want to reassure her that my popularity would never come between us."

And I'm literally laughing my fucking ass off reading this. Ha Ha. The dude has like one or two things published in "For the love"
anthologies. No money. And I'm not trying to put that down. I've been published in "for the love" anthologies. lol. It's fine. We love
to see our work in print when we first start out. But I don't recall being that damn delusional over it. As a matter of fact? When I first
started getting published, I was married. And actually, my first acceptance into a zine was a paying zine. It was like $25 for the story.
WOO-HOO! Got me a hot case of beer that night. lol. But OTHER people were delusional about it. Like friends and silly chicks. And when
I got my first novel accepted? Oh my god. I got my copy in the mail and showed it to my best friend. And he was like....

"Wow, man. We're gonna be hanging out in a beach house. When you gonna get the money for this?
We can go hang out on the ocean and shit. Dude. This is awesome..."

And I just sat there and stared at him for a minute like a retard fell out of a tree. Finally i was like...

"Dude. It's nothing like that. This is a small press. I'll be lucky if I make enough off this book for a decent
night at the strip bar BY MYSELF. I really don't even know what the fuck you talking about."

And the funny thing was? My wife at the time took a polar opposite point of view from the very few other girls
being impressed by me being a "published writer". Because there were a couple girls acting all googly eyed with
this event. And flirting with me about it. and I looked at her and said...

"Want me to put them in their place an tell them I'm married?"

And she laughed and said....

"No. Part of your charm is your arrogant sexism. Because don't flatter yourself thinking it was your somewhat good looks
or sex that drew me to you. You are not all that and a bag of chips. It was your flirtatious arrogance that impressed me.
So you go ahead and play that card you're so good at tossing on the poker table. It's not going to bother me a bit. If you
being that way brings you more readers? Then you do that."

And then she laughs hysterically and I'm thinking about throwing my empty beer can at her. Ha Ha.

But yeah. Just watching this guy on social media made me feel compelled to write this blog on the subject. lol


Yeah, like I won a flash fiction competition about eighteen months ago. I've never looked back.

I might turn into a pillar of salt.
Aww, bless him. He's just having fun with it. When I get published and become mega-famous, I'm going to be doubling down on the grumps. Every wretched line in my face will scream what a torment it is to have my art recognised. I will go to insufferable extremes, blaring incessantly about how difficult it is to be a multimillionaire, and you better believe I will make sure every man-jack in the place knows about my woes when it comes to running a successful yacht.

I will yell "you don't understand me!" in the faces of the poor.
Applying simple math to the everyday is lost on some, until bill time, then enlightenment happens; we all become Buddhas, Einsteins... Where'd all 'that money' go? fu-uuck What's your monthly nut and how much was that check? Pfft...
Now groupies, that's another matter. Girls got googly? Benny Hill face...

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