So yeah, I’ve come to a revelation. I want to write literature. Not just stories. I want to preach and most people despise that, especially when it’s not even that entertaining (I think I’m entertaining, just making a point here.) Most writers/readers I’ve met are only looking for entertainment. Nothing wrong with that, but that’s not what I want to do. I want to entertain, but mix in some preaching too. Because that is what literature does right? Uplifts, teaches. All art should do this right? I’m stuck on the stuffy side of art I guess, and when said art is not satisfying to me. I’ll bitch. Except I won’t bitch publicly and name names because I refuse to bad mouth anyone, but I will vaguely bitch about life and so on. It’s just what I do. So where does all this leave me. Fuck. I don’t know. Here I guess.
Persist. That is all there is to do. And really, for me, I need to tune out all the nonsense out there and persist. I’m writing something that is mostly entertainment now, but I want to subtly work in some life lessons about friendship and bullies and bravery etc. I’ll post here how it turns out. Should wrap up by summer 2017. I’ve decided not to self-publish this next one. I want to be on the shelves man. I’m going to do the next 5-8 years trying to get published the old way. I’ll blog and let you know how it goes.
Here is an article that makes what I just said sound stupid and they are right. Crap. http://www.esquire.com/entertainment/books/a33599/genre-fiction-vs-literary-fiction/