This is one decent thing from Facebook, via my good bud Matt Paust. I'm going through another round of bitterness about this whole thing. Please note, I'm not bitter about everything in my life. In some areas I'm the happiest I've ever been, particularly my family. And I just lost 30 lbs. and look better than I have in years. The things I can wear now! I just wanted you to know that.
But certain things never get resolved, and the hard work I've put into my craft has, apparently, been for nothing. I'm tired of gluing the happy-face on and trying to be a cheerleader for the industry, when my heart has been run over 570 times and no one seems to notice or care.
I just deleted a bitter diatribe I wrote yesterday, only to notice another one from the day before, so I'd better leave it. I've always felt out of kilter in the world, a square peg not willing to shave all her corners off to "fit", and social media/trying to "make it" as a writer has multiplied this problem a thousandfold. The work is supposed to be its own reward, it's still the best part, and I hope people will take my books out of the library and read them (for I don't care two figs about sales or profits or anything, just having a small readership. But that matters to me, very very much.)