Here is what I would love reading this blog to feel like. Or, should I say, here is what, several years from now, I would love this moment, as you’re reading this, to feel like in retrospect.
At the present, I am unknown. I am unpublished. I am making nothing from my writing.
In short, I am nobody.
Understand, when I say that, I’m well aware that this isn’t he case with my friends, family, and significant other. To them, I’m somebody. I’m aware of that.
But when it comes to the writing world, I’m nobody. I have a readership of a couple of dozen people at best.
Of course, what I would love to happen is for this to change. Like anyone else who does this, I would love to be published, and noticed. I would love to achieve worldwide fame.
And the real fun part about this would be how it would make those folks feel who are reading this right now.
I’m always taken with stories of the early days of any artist, writer, or musician who hits it big. They always tell about their first piece of writing or first displayed painting or first concert, and of course, the story always involves a limited audience. The Police talked about playing in front of 12 people; The Sex Pistols played their first concert in front of 40 people; no doubt, current bands have the same story.
I always wonder what it must have felt like to be one of the first people who saw The Beatles at the Cavern club, when they were just four kids playing music. Even at the Cavern Club they became local celebrities, so I mean even earlier than that, during their days in Hamburg. People saw them, and I wonder what it must have been like to be one of those people, watching as they achieved superstardom, and being able to say “when I saw them, it was at The Star Club, and there were maybe ten people there.”
Every major artist, be they visual, performing, or musical, starts out as a nobody. It must be such a kick to see them when no one knew about them, and be able to say that you were a fan from those very first days.
With that said, if you are a loyal fan, it is my sincerest wish that I become wildly famous. Then I will give you that thrill of being able to say that you were here at the very beginning, when I was a nobody.
I’ll say it right now: if you’re reading this, well, you see my ferocious talent way before anyone else does. You’re cooler than anyone else. No one else will be able to say that they, early on, saw my genius the way that you did.
A while back, I did this thing where I sold a story of mine on EBay, just for the fun of it. The story included an Eisenhower dollar, and I put it up for sale for a buck. Someone played $1.25 for it. I like to imagine that someday, that purchase will be worth a fortune.
There is a great moment in the film “Pollock,” where Jackson Pollock, flat broke, asks a local shopkeeper if he can pay for his beer with a painting. Taking pity on him, the shopkeeper says okay. Of course, when I saw this in the theater, people laughed, realizing that this shopkeeper, with that one act of kindness, became a millionaire.
If you’re reading this, you’re buying Microsoft stock in the 1980s, Dell stock in 1990s, and Bitcoin two years ago. You’re one of those folks who got in early. Trust me, though I can give you nothing but the currency of being able to brag that you saw the next big thing before everyone else is, I will do my level best to make you rich.
At the present, I am unknown. I am unpublished. I am making nothing from my writing.
In short, I am nobody.
Understand, when I say that, I’m well aware that this isn’t he case with my friends, family, and significant other. To them, I’m somebody. I’m aware of that.
But when it comes to the writing world, I’m nobody. I have a readership of a couple of dozen people at best.
Of course, what I would love to happen is for this to change. Like anyone else who does this, I would love to be published, and noticed. I would love to achieve worldwide fame.
And the real fun part about this would be how it would make those folks feel who are reading this right now.
I’m always taken with stories of the early days of any artist, writer, or musician who hits it big. They always tell about their first piece of writing or first displayed painting or first concert, and of course, the story always involves a limited audience. The Police talked about playing in front of 12 people; The Sex Pistols played their first concert in front of 40 people; no doubt, current bands have the same story.
I always wonder what it must have felt like to be one of the first people who saw The Beatles at the Cavern club, when they were just four kids playing music. Even at the Cavern Club they became local celebrities, so I mean even earlier than that, during their days in Hamburg. People saw them, and I wonder what it must have been like to be one of those people, watching as they achieved superstardom, and being able to say “when I saw them, it was at The Star Club, and there were maybe ten people there.”
Every major artist, be they visual, performing, or musical, starts out as a nobody. It must be such a kick to see them when no one knew about them, and be able to say that you were a fan from those very first days.
With that said, if you are a loyal fan, it is my sincerest wish that I become wildly famous. Then I will give you that thrill of being able to say that you were here at the very beginning, when I was a nobody.
I’ll say it right now: if you’re reading this, well, you see my ferocious talent way before anyone else does. You’re cooler than anyone else. No one else will be able to say that they, early on, saw my genius the way that you did.
A while back, I did this thing where I sold a story of mine on EBay, just for the fun of it. The story included an Eisenhower dollar, and I put it up for sale for a buck. Someone played $1.25 for it. I like to imagine that someday, that purchase will be worth a fortune.
There is a great moment in the film “Pollock,” where Jackson Pollock, flat broke, asks a local shopkeeper if he can pay for his beer with a painting. Taking pity on him, the shopkeeper says okay. Of course, when I saw this in the theater, people laughed, realizing that this shopkeeper, with that one act of kindness, became a millionaire.
If you’re reading this, you’re buying Microsoft stock in the 1980s, Dell stock in 1990s, and Bitcoin two years ago. You’re one of those folks who got in early. Trust me, though I can give you nothing but the currency of being able to brag that you saw the next big thing before everyone else is, I will do my level best to make you rich.
