Where Are We Now?
The Hopes Of The Modern Writer
What Has Changed; What Is Changing; And How Does It Compare To The Ways Of Yesterday
©Joanie Adams — Joanie Adams; Gift A Tea: https://ko-fi.com/joanieadamms
What Hopes do we have nowadays — as a Writer, true to their enigmatic blood, what are the hopes?
So much seems to have changed to the layman on first impression, but is that really true, in all senses one can imagine?
In the endless streams of written words, it can be terrifying to find any sense; all tumbling around in these rogues' bodies to the larger ones, like the faithful Oxpeckers to the Buffalos hinny, they still a platform to be elevated on if they are to be sustained.
Memories of the Enlightenment are long behind us, now, we are in an age of great transitions and ever greater uncertainties; I could close my eyes to all the writers who dared and lost, but I shan’t, the memory of which shall be told throughout, by my Medium.
So let me tell you a wee tale:
Once a time ago, at least in the plains existing between the United States and the then British Empire, being greeted with a single shilling for the encapsulated sensation of ideas by the medium of words was so rare.
Unlike the popular chance that is darting through the older lines, which has never existed till now— certainly never in the manner that can connect persons across this wee globetrotting venture; therein lays the daunting freedom of a million voices waiting to be heard. Jumping the line of petty prejudices, only if, daring to!
Connexions — connexions — connexions!
Certainly, there have been popular magazines, and ways for casual writers to submit their work for review, but the standards were high, and so was the chic of fitting within the circle of the publisher.
Just like now, expect there are circulating spaces like Medium that have their windows fairly open, with all the bruising and bruised apples that are tossed in with the purely delightful ones, and the ones Public discourse is yet to decide on.
A million equities arriving all at once, followed by the next vessel carrying another million, that grows into ten, and now into a billion or more. So grows the reader base, but what remains is a solemn fact that they shall always outnumber the humbled writer; with most clinging to the most popular, but therein the adventurers break away and opportunity could be, by happy happenstance…
Though comes the effective good, also comes the dilution from the ones who try to earn a quick shilling through the trends of any given time, or by the lack of sincerity or perhaps to surf upon the shoulders of others, which they shouldn’t have been surfing on; bringing a good platform down, more times than not done in clueless, well-meaning disarray.
I am not the arbitrator to decide who shall and shan’t, I am no fanatic of the Authoritative state of affairs, nary, but I do hold my bets upon Merit; if you can walk your talk, then let the fates of time, prestige, happenstance, and crooning readers decide what needs to be decided, even if it is wrong.
Let the deciding opportunity abound!
Says I, that wee old Seer, who dares upon the truly objectionable coldness that is Clear sight.
Regardless, physical connexions and the luck of the chances I believe are still very much there at the forefront of meaningful impact and will decide in many quarters whether you shall or shouldn’t become.
Friends and a small Base of adoring readers could be the seed that needs to be sown firmly for any Truly Daring Writer become into being, if we ever hope to witness a writer of such magnitudes as the Classical ones again.
Friends, good ones at least, remind you where boundaries should exist, if their hearts are in the best ways, and their eyes are too.
You cannot escape the fact your words may have consequences, and if you can see the affecting quality of such on their faces, you may understand the implications of ideas through words are; at best, hope.
Change is never just gradual nor sudden, it is surprising; allow yourself to see these happy accidents now.
In all this feverish excitement of bringing days, remind yourself of consequence; if it isn’t today, you may be pillaring yourself for a later day. Hold on now!
Ta-ta Now, one day I shall fall silent, but nay, not right now —says I!
P.S.
I am much too crazed for the love of Ideas to go so soundless into that long night!
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As ever, Dear Reader.
