“Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.”
[The New Statesman, February 25, 1933] ― Cyril Connolly
This quote inspired me, so I borrowed it. I do not care if you read my work and love it or even if you loathe it. I only care that you read it.
I recognise myself, and I embrace her. This is my place and my time to write, as Mamie.
My daily grind is ‘prose for pay’, but in this, I prostitute my mind, pimp it out to the highest bidder to allow my soul to flourish when I create as myself.
I have been a writer for decades, and no one has ever read a word. I have hoarded notebooks, loose sheets of paper and random files on my computer. However, none of my work has endured the scrutiny of a critical gaze.
I am not so brave that I can withstand the ego-shrivelling process of personal criticism to my face. Therefore, I launch the words I write into the anonymous pool of the internet. Laud me or laugh at me, compliment or criticise, it is up to you.