Another rejection letter
It is two months since I sent my manuscript of "God Walks These Dark Hills" to the publisher, and I have not even had a letter of rejection in this time; not that in reality, I expected anything to happen as I am an unknown writer.
I also sent my credentials to a charity anthology book that e-mailed me, and again, no reply is my answer.
As an unknown, my only hope is to self-publish and sell lots of copies; then on the off-chance, I may get noticed, even if this did happen I need to fight the uneven war of In-House-Favouritism. IHF is what happens when a publisher seeks work from a writer known to them, but how do you get known when nobody is willing to take a chance on a newcomer?
I have got used to being ignored, if I did get a genuine offer I would probably lose it because I questioned it, after a decade of fighting the inevitable can you blame me for not believing?
Lowering the standard.
I have learned not to expect anything at any time, the less you hope to achieve, the less disappointed you will be; this year I lowered the bar on my hopes so low that I'd need to be a flatworm to get below the bar.
2018 was a year of shit for me, so my only hope is that 2019 is not as bad as last year was. Don't hold your breath as I gave up on waiting for a change in my downward spiral that brought me to the point where I have given up writing after a 55-year race to catch the elusive butterfly of hope to get recognized as a writer - Grace is not better than Sin - www.alsdominion.co.uk/the-reading-room/is-grace-greater-than-sin?
As I didn't expect anything, the sales I' got in January are a pleasant surprise for me, and have given me hope for better days ahead, at least for this month.
My expectation for later in the year is that by October I will have stopped blogging and writing.
A writers' life
If the Lord had a plan for me, I wish I could see what it was after spending my life chasing the wish to be recognized as a writer and falling short despite my success in writing a successful science fiction series called Forgestriker.
Perhaps the Lord had a hand in me not accepting the only genuine offer I had to be published - www.alsdominion.co.uk/the-reading-room/i-lost-my-moment - for months after I second guessed my decision.
I thought writing Christian fiction short stories might help save my life as an author, but they did not help.
I don't know what the Lord's plan was but my plan is to do more reading as I will have plenty of time as I am stopping my writing soon.
Things I never sought.
A discussion I often had with my friend, Julia Petrakis, revolved around how I viewed myself as a writer.
When I got asked why I considered myself a failure when my science fiction series - Forgestriker - is selling four years after its launch, I'd reply I wished to be recognized as a writer, not a genre-writer, to achieve this goal I would need sales in other genres which never came.
Some of my friends/ colleagues used to regard me as a bestseller because I sold over 850 e-books for my series; the hard truth is I was forced to keep the prices down to such a level that I rarely made more than $1 a week for my troubles.
For several years, I have relaxed to music as I write, but I have the feeling those days are over for me; I think I am going deaf if my physical disabilities were not enough for me to have to combat.
One bit of good news is I am not going deaf, all I had was a blocked ear, that is a great relief as I have more than enough to cope with all my other issues of health.
I am under a lot of stress this year and this causes me to black out; also after my fall in June, my knees (especially my left leg) cannot support me and I keep having minor collapses.
I think now is a good time to quit trying to be a writer as my EDS is making typing extremely painful, if I thought there was a point I'd try to do my work by voice recognition software, but not many of my stories get read.
This year, so far, I've had two MRI scans (one was at my request); the latest on my heart revealed I had a lesion in my kidneys, I have to love my genetics cos if I didn't I'd scream.
My final weeks as a writer.
I keep trying, and failing, to convince myself that my boat will come in and I will see some reward for my writing, but in my heart I know that ship sank with all hands years ago.
As I have nothing to lose, and possibly a lot to gain, I sent my latest short story www.amazon.com/dp/B07MHDBP78/ to a Christian Fiction publisher.
I have several stories I could complete before I give up as a writer, I did hope for some sales to give me hope, but it was't to be.
The road ends for me in October, at the latest.
My last payment for e-book sales
Thanks to one kind reader, probably in the USA, I got the sale I needed to get paid by Draft2Digital for the first time in over a year; for a change the book that sold was not Forgestriker.
The bad news is that I won't be paid until March at the earliest now.
I was not foolish enough to imagine I would make a lot as a writer, but I did think it would be more than $0.40 a week.
A new beginning.
Cuddles (left) and Clyde (right).
Cuddles and Clyde were sitting in the front room of their house, enjoying a coffee laced with whiskey, when Cuddles turned to his friend and said, "Do you recall the first Christmas Mass we went to?"
Clyde smiled and replied, "Remember? How could I forget that wonderful evening? The service turned my life around, at the time I was living on the street and drinking a bottle or two a day; I would not have lasted out that year before we came into my life, and showed me there is hope. There was a feeling of warmth at the service that I'd never experienced before; people who I didn't know were willing to talk to me, a worthless drunk living on the street as if I was an old friend. I had to admit at the time; I was a hardened critic of religion, life had kicked me down so often, all I wanted to see the end of my days. To say that night changed my life is an understatement beyond measure."
"I saw an excellent bear in pain, Clyde, you had been a friend to many, but few were there for you when you needed a friend, and you turned to the only thing you thought you could rely on, the bottle. I could see you were trying to deaden the pain of loss, and failing; I didn't know what the pain was, but I felt I could at least try to help ease it for you by showing that someone cared for you. I am pleased that my act of kindness helped you see the light of day and changed your life to the good; the news on the street is you have a new story coming out next year."
"Yes, I do, it is the story is called "God walks these dark hills," the story www.alsdominion.co.uk/the-reading-room/god-walks-these-dark-hills is about a man who finds the Lord of his life when he thinks he has lost all hope and direction in his life. I have many more to read on the page - www.alsdominion.co.uk/the-reading-room - some are almost ready for release as e-books."
"Is there any truth to the rumor that you're considering giving up work as an author?"
"In a way, I am not selling any more e-books, if I do write it will only be on my blog as the sales never came for my e-books in the decade I was a writer."
NHS, Of course, there is a crisis, where I lived I couldn't book an appointment unless I gave three weeks notice because of all the Poles, Asians and colored people in the area, and UKLabour want to open the doors to more of them; we need Brexit
The problem with the NHS is not that we don't have good nursing staff, so we need Asians to fill posts, the problem is that whoever is in power is more interested in sending money to foreigners than paying a living wage to our nursing staff, carers, Police and Armed Forces.
How can a government qualify sending millions of pounds out a country where millions of people live below the poverty line, and thousands live on the streets devoid of any help?
If you think Asians are good doctors, here is an example from my life - ten weeks ago, I asked an Asian heart specialist if he'd be kind enough to write to the Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund to support my fight to regain my disability allowance, all it would have taken in 5 minutes but he could not care less.
Thank you, Lord.
I may be disabled and unable to stand this year, but I am still grateful to the Lord, as he gave me time to visit Canada, and to revisit Southampton and Scarborough again after many years away.