We all know the expression, "miss the forest for the trees," but couldn't it also work the other way? Couldn't we "miss the trees for the forest"?
I took my grandson to a large store full of DVDs, vinyl records, and books. It was overwhelming. Nothing was cataloged, so it was a crap shot to find any one thing in particular. He wanted a poster of Billie Eilish, but there were thousands of posters to sort through to hopefully find one. And probably not the one he wanted, anyway. We failed.
We walked by bookshelves along the back of the store. It was a veritable cornucopia.
That's when it hit me. As much as I love to write and as much as my novels are good, the chances of them being missed "for the forest" are so great that it feels like it's not worth the effort. It's discouraging to know I'm just one insignificant yet talented author in a sea of others just like me, all vying for sales, positive reviews, stars, cover headings like "New York Times Bestseller".
We don't have celebrity status. We aren't related to people who do. We don't have the money to buy the services of a major publishing company. We can barely eek out the fees for a personal blogsite. We aren't internet influencers. We may not even know any.
We just love to write and we have stories to tell. We're trees in a gigantic forest.
I'm striving to figure out how to put my stories out there in the public eye without relying on others' expertise or clout. It's probably not rocket science, but sometimes it sure as hell feels like it. Someday, when I finally get on some best seller's list, I'm going to turn around and help other aspiring authors get there too.
For free. After all, I'm a tree hugger.
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