They say I need to be Branded. I don’t know who They are, but They write a ton of articles telling me what I must do to be a successful writer and They post them all over cyberspace. They also send me numerous personal emails, telling me that I need to pay them to share their writing experience because They know which tools will help me become a successful writer, just like them. Isn’t that nice? It is comforting to know that someone besides my mother cares about my writing career.
Maybe I should write articles about writing for people who are already writing too, and then sell my advice, but I’m kinda busy trying to write what I want to write, throwing down my words any old way I like. Sometimes I create a mess, but sometimes I score a tear or a smile from my Pineapple Girls writer’s group and that makes me happy. Now I know who they are, they are the women who usually love my writing, prepositions at the end of sentences and all.
I’m not uneducated. I aced English Composition in college and I was invited to be a student in a class of one in college, attending a Creative Writing course for writers. The teacher was fired the following year for messing with a student, but I wasn’t chosen for that honor. (I was a little bit insulted, he never even tried to mess with me and even though I would have said no, I did take it personal.)
Now back to They who I don’t know, the ones who know what is best for my career.
They haven’t bought my $3.99 E-book (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/287988) or even read it, but They know I can make it to the top of the free-lance, Indie Tower if I will just pay them to allow me to attend their seminars where They will teach me how to write correctly, how to query, how to submit, how to tackle Social Media and how to become a better blogger.
Whew. I’m tired just writing about it. The thing is, if I want to pay someone to teach me how to do what comes naturally to me, then I would like to be separated from my money in person. At least then I can say, “They had such an honest face. I trusted them.” Otherwise, I will have to tell my honey that the internet people, the They people, took my money.
Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t want to be Branded (I hate the smell of burning flesh) and I’m not trying to build a writer’s platform, not without a permit. I never touched a computer until I was forty and technology is still always two to ten steps ahead of me, so I could end up Branded where the sun don’t shine. I finally conquered Facebook and then they changed all the privacy rules and now my profile is out there naked (metaphorically). I just know it. (Literally.)
Please don’t Brand me, just call me a woman who thinks too much and take what you want from my writing and leave the rest. I won’t Brand you either, I promise.
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 