The Complaint Episode

Okay.

If you suggest it to me, I’ve done it.

Everything has failed.

I’ve done the fucking SEO, both before and after the shift in 2012 and later on in 2020.  I’ve done the Pages, before and after the organic reach throttle, and completely gave up once Facebook became Meta and they COMPLETELY RAVAGED the back end UI.

I’ve gone viral once for my band, and that…literally led to nothing.

I’ve hired marketers, both local and abroad.  I’ve tried FB and Google advertising.

I’ve tried Kirkus Reviews.  I’ve tried YOUR FAVORITE marketing crew that got me on Kirkus Reviews once then fucked off.

I’ve tried fucking around on Goodreads but gave that up because it’s a goddamn timesink.  I’m a writer, a freaking multi-media artist and I’ll be damned thrice times sideways if I have to “hang out, interact and wait [my] turn” before any fucking group is going to read my stuff/listen to my stuff afterwards.

I’m not a one pump chump, I’ve got literal whole-assed worlds I’m tryna sling here.

I don’t mind collabs, but I swear others always get the boost and I get nothing.  I absolutely LOVE collabs though, so this isn’t part of the actual complaint part of this post.

Yes, I’ve tried your favorite writer marketing group on Facebook.  I won’t talk too much about it, but for some odd reason I’m banned there and from what I remember it’s because I took a side in a particular moral war, one that I was on the correct side.

I’ve done their advice.

It ain’t shit.

I’ve heard the advice of “JUST WRITE THE NEXT BOOK LOL, WRITE A BOOK A MONTH LOL” and I only know of two people who have ever done that and been successful, and even THEY look like they’re burning out.

I had thought I might’ve found something in these Webtoon style apps (Radish and another one, where the readers are charged for tokens and those tokens are used to get access to new material), but then I read further into it and it’s all the same shit: write 500k words a month, be enslaved to their company, expect pennies.

And…I ain’t about that life.

I WANT to live in a balanced fashion.  I NEED to simply find the advertising boutique/marketing crew out there that CAN boost me into the atmosphere, but everything and everyone I’ve ever tried are just…the same old shit.

And….that can be a real soul grinder, y’know?  Just fucks me up.

It’s one reason why I grew so bitter, became so curmudgeonly as an artist.  I love to interact with people, as a musician or an author or anything else, but the moment they start talking about who they know and what I should try (usually with me responding, straight-faced, that I’ve already done that and it didn’t work), just…it can really bring a brotha down.

Yes, whatever you’re about to say, I’ve tried it.

Are you going to suggest someone to me?  Have them call me or email me.  Are you going to provide my name or The Work to an agent or someone who could possibly make a difference in getting The Work before more eyes in multiple formats?

My entire life, since 2012 when I pulled the trigger and decided to simply do the damn thing, can be summed up with this sad phrase: everybody got their hand out, but no one wants to help me get that bag.

I’ve devoted a good chunk of my life to my art.  I’ve worked at a terrible job environment in order to barely afford my bills and even then ended up poor, behind sometimes, and struggling while dedicating time, treasure, and my own blood and sweat into whatever art I was focused on.

I don’t blame the readers.  I don’t blame the art.  I don’t even blame The Work.

I DO blame the algorithms.  I DO blame playing by the rules of the game only to be sidelined and blacklisted.  I DO blame every two-faced muggle-moufed motherfucker who ever said they’d do somethin’ only to annoy and disappoint me in the end.

No not you - if we’re still talking and still friends, then I’m not talking about you, dumbass.  I have infinite patience for friends and family, but everyone else?

Naw, bruh.

When the Duder Bump happens, it happens.  I can point to your metrics and go “THERE WE GO!” when it actually happens.

But no one ever got that bump for me NO THAT WASN’T A DRUG JOKE SHUT UP.

SEOClerks don’t work.  Fiverr don’t work.  Booktubers REALLY don’t work, for all that some of them are correct as fuck but ain’t the kind of writing I do.  And the whole time, all I’m seein’ are self-proclaimed successes in the field, and it drives me absolutely insane sometimes seein’…well, consider this: you ever heard of low quality/no quality literature?

I have.

And it doesn’t make sense how it sells the way it does.

WHO THE FUCK IS PAYING FOR THIS and why can’t I get them to buy my actual high quality work?

Okay, what about dropship grifters, and yeah - they’re grifters.  Not all of ‘em, but the gods know I’ve seen so many people somehow thriving with absolute garbage, and just…drives me nuts.

If you check past the surface with more than a couple, it’s literally people who ALREADY HAD MONEY simply using the system that was placed there for them by their parents/old world money, and that’s it.

That’s it exactly.

If you’re going to be in any entertainment industry, you need either money, contacts, or a network already in place and…I ain’t got any of that.

Ultimately, I’m kinda surprised I’m still doing shit sometimes.  I sometimes mention it online, social media or even on blogs like this one in the past, but not really as much as this post.

I can say, without hubris or ego involved, that at least my Work are, in total, good enough for me to continue to work on it.  Perhaps I’m wrong, but every fucking person who hits me up about it is another drop in my Super Meter, y’knowwhatImean?  And I do hear about it, when I can twist enough elbows to get someone to read my stuff or listen, and hearing them laud me afterwards is great, but…telling me how good it is is nothing, in the long run.

I need reviews.  I need to KNOW people are enjoying The Work.  As an artist, I need an audience, and one that remembers me without me being a sex pest/absolute monster.

‘Cuz I won’t do that.

This WAS the Complaint Episode.  Purely masturbatory and probably forgetful in the long run, but eh.

It was nice, therapeutic, and I’ll (hopefully) never do it again.

Now to scream about something else….