The Honeymoon is Definitely Over
I cheated, so sue me.
People, I’ve been dumped. Along with maybe a hundred or more of my stories. I’ve lost count.
Quite a while back, I began writing for a new publication that took off like a rabid bat out of hell. There’s no need to give name to it as you already know what it is, and I’ll be damned if I sully my pristine Apple Magic Keyboard by tapping out the letters.
Yes, it shone like a beacon on a stormy night and writers flocked to it in droves due to the pub owner’s relentless Kumbaya-like spewing and his assurance that all writers were welcome.
“Come one, come all! If you can’t write worth a damn, if you can’t string a cohesive sentence together, I’ll publish you, because that’s the kind of guy I am!”
Harrumph.
I’m still trying to figure how and why this mercurial rise took place, as I’ve seen nothing like it in the nearly two and a half years that I’ve been writing on Medium. Is it some sort of alchemy?
Is this guy a resurrection of Jim Jones?
I don’t know but I’d love his Kool-Aid recipe.
There’s no denying that the guy is a mathlete of sorts because he knows all about algorithms and read ratios and all the crap I hate thinking about. But he doesn’t know squat about writing. Empire-building? Inciting eager noobs to follow along like sheep? That’s another story.
At first, I was truly jazzed about contributing my ramblings to this pub. Why wouldn’t I be, with the enormous spike in followers, daily? Also, many writers who I now consider to be friends and who I have enormous respect for, signed on, so I was all-in.
And I still respect these writers, even though I’m feeling the chill from a few of them.
“Don’t get on me, folks. I don’t pull any punches and you already knew that.”
It just occurred to me that this is similar to divorce when one or both ex-partners wonders, “Who gets the friends?”
Very quickly, our little community started to swell like a bladder in need of a toilet. We writers were getting published every day, without having to sit and spin like so many of the top Medium pubs expect us to do. Admittedly, it felt great to be appreciated and recognized as our stories were featured in the editor’s daily newsletter. Plus, we had fun responding to writers’ prompts and the like.
But now, the crap has hit the fan. Literally. In its early days, the publication shared only quality stories, poems, and the like. Not the kind of dreck you see in so many of the other pubs that have become dumping grounds for writer wannabes. But, again, anyone who wanted to come on board could do so. And I do mean, “anyone.”
Where are the standards? Don’t our readers and followers who look forward to our daily output, deserve more?
In theory, inclusivity is admirable in its intent. Yet now, there is a shit-ton of writers publishing, well, shit. They’re just not ready for a platform like this. They haven’t put in the work, nor the time required to hone their skills. And it’s a shame because really, they’re not being done any favors.
They’re not learning anything.
I appreciate the commitment to giving new writers a shot, but the writers who signed on at the very beginning deserve respect, as well. They should not have to struggle to stand out amid a steaming pile of dung. I sucked up a hearty helping of that stench when I was employed in the advertising and marketing industries and I’m full up.
Even though I was feeling myself pull away from the community, I wasn’t going to shoot myself in the foot and give up on a publication that initially, served as a highly-popular stomping ground for a select group of outstanding writers. As I said, I liked and appreciated them.
My thinking shifted dramatically when I read a “story” so shockingly bad and so outrageous in its awfulness that I couldn’t believe it was published at all. I honestly did a double-take and had to check to confirm the pub’s name.
Oh, hell no.
The writer was beyond incompetent. And his story was about changing the algorithm here so that writers receive numerical “ratings,” thereby negating the effect that claps and followers have on our profiles.
How the hell he believed he could pull off such a hair-brained stunt is a mystery to me. And how did he think Medium itself was going to react?
So why was this story published? Because the editors, some of them anyway, simply aren’t doing their due diligence. Maybe their torpor is simply a case of “too much, too soon.”
Even though I enjoyed writing for the pub, the fact that I was pulled is incredibly freeing. When I said I “cheated,” I meant that I didn’t share the slavish devotion being heaped upon The King. Also, I expressed my opinion in stories like this.
That was the nail in my coffin. One does not go up against this guy, nor try to offer up helpful advice. He doesn’t want it because he believes he doesn’t need it.
“Oh, sir. You do, trust me.”
As a pub owner and editor, I’ve had stories submitted to Rogues’ Gallery that were so off the mark that I had to wonder if the writer bothered reading any of the articles here, first. Know what I do in that case? I reject them!
On the other side of the coin are those talented writers who I dearly love. Who unapologetically bring the heat and then some. You might say we’re of like minds. And either I feel that or I don’t. There’s no shame in not wanting to publish substandard material.
Now I have a new publication with my friend, P.G. Barnett called The Top Shelf and I’m very excited about it. Our arms are open to any writers who can actually write. We’re looking for quality. If that sounds like something you’d be into, let us know.
Meanwhile, I wish the publication referenced here, and its attendees all the best. They’ll probably keep on slaying.
After all, nobody said this shit was fair.
Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.
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