Fame Is Overrated, Anyway

Good morning, readers.  Unless you are reading this at a different point in the day.  In which case, good afternoon/evening/middle of the night, readers.

If you’ve ever been on the WordPress home page (WordPress being the site which hosts this blog), you no doubt have noticed that there is a feature called Freshly Pressed.  This feature basically showcases the best of WordPress blogs, displaying links to different posts every day.  To be Pressed is considered one of the highest honors a blog can have.  I have never been Pressed, of course, but this kind of fame, being shown to me every day as I log in, has gotten me thinking about the bigger fame: the fame of being an author.

Not all authors are famous in the sense that I’m thinking of.  “Famous” will here be taken to mean that you’re one of those authors that simply everyone at all connected to the literary world will have heard of.  You’re probably thinking of some right now, readers: writers like J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Scott Westerfeld, Stephenie Meyer, et cetera, those being just a sample of the ones alive today.  All of these authors have huge fan bases and most have movie deals.  As a young aspiring writer, I’ve had some thought on what it might be like to be considered among their ranks one day.

But that’s when I remember that fame isn’t the point.

This is something that is extremely important to me when I’m writing.  Fame isn’t the point.  Yes, fame is seen as desirable in most people’s eyes.  Yes, fame equals more money, more fans, more movies.  The problem, though, is that none of these matter in the end.

When writing, what truly matters is that I’m getting my story out there.  I’m doing what I love to do, and I’m doing it in the hopes that I’ll connect with someone, anyone, who likes what I do just as much as I like doing it.  And I don’t need to make it big as an author in order to have that happen.

In the end, as a writer, writing is about putting something forth into the world that I’m proud of.  It’s about doing the best work that I can do with a story that is near and dear to my heart.  It’s about writing whatever feels right to me and eventually sending it out into the great unknown, hopefully for some reader to come along and pick it up.

And it turns out, readers, that I don’t really care if I never have thousands of screaming fans at some as-yet-unimaginable point in my future when I’m published.  If I have a few dedicated readers who happen to enjoy reading my stories, then I will be grateful to all of them (actually, it’ll be surreal in the extreme if anyone likes my books at all- I just can’t imagine it).  Which brings me back to that first bit.  I’ll probably never be Freshly Pressed, and that’s okay.  I’m overjoyed that you, readers, read what I write, and I can’t be any more grateful whether I have thirty followers or thirty thousand.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you, each and every one, for coming along with me on these wacky-insane Novel Journeys.  I look forward to whatever the future holds for both this blog and for my career as a writer.  Famous or not, Pressed or not, it’s what I love, and that’s enough for me.

Happy reading.


7 thoughts on “Fame Is Overrated, Anyway

    • Oh, wow. I’m going to have to really think about this one.
      First of all, I can’t guarantee how long I’ll be remembered. That, of course, comes long after the doing of the thing. The most I could do is to perform the greatest job of whatever-it-is that I can and hope for the best.
      That being said, this seems like an obvious answer coming from me, but I would write. I’m no politician or great historical figure type, but I like to think I know my way around a page. When I think about great writers like Robert Louis Stevenson, Jules Verne, et cetera, that’s the kind of notoriety that I think would help my ideas, and thus my fame, to survive the centuries. Not to get philosophical here, but words last a pretty long time. Because the words and stories which the classic writers of the past wrote are still around today, the writers themselves are remembered. If this was my one great task in life, a really good book just might accomplish it.
      This whole post was about not trying to be famous, so it feels a bit strange answering this question, but there’s my answer.

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