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I was trying hard to muster sympathy for a poster in the fan fiction sub on Reddit today, but I was not having a lot of luck.
The person posted a rant about how they usually get 6-7 comments every time they post a chapter on their story, but so far they'd got none on their latest chapter. I can kind of see why they were a bit shaken, as they mentioned that they'd put a lot of effort into the latest chapter.
Then in a later comment they made self-pitying remarks about not being sure if they could carry on like this.
As somebody who would have no comments on the majority of his works if it were not for his beta reader, to my ears this author really sounded whiny and entitled. "My bonus wasn't as large as we were expecting this year, and we may have to choose between a second Bentley, or the pool at our Hawaiian cottage if we want to retain all four nannies. Why does life have to be so hard?"
On the other hand, I acknowledge that somebody who is entitled to a certain level of lifestyle or engagement may feel a genuine loss when they take a hit. While I might wish that I got more comments and feedback on my own stories, I don't begrudge them the love and attention they get for theirs. I'd rather that writers at my level could get elevated to theirs, rather than having them dragged down to ours.
It's an easy thing to fall into he envy trap. It's the kind of thing that people living in positions of wealth and power use to turn the poor against themselves.
I'm trying to avoid the pitfall, but it's hard. When you are the writer equivalent of a person trying to decide between food or medicine, it's tough to sympathize with the person torn between a second house or a world vacation.
It would be nice if we could all afford both options.
But there's also that petty little part in us that loves seeing the rich bastard fall and bloody his nose now and then.
In other news, my picture-a-day project for 2020 is still on target.
I made picked up some bacon last week and candied a bit of it. I meant to make bacon jam, but this worked too. Gonna give it another try later this week.
This squirrel was threatening me. He/She was maintaining a cowardly safe distance and giving me an earful for the mere crime of existing.
We went up to the west end of the city last Friday to get a view of the comment. The clouds refused to break up enough for a view, and we started getting eaten by mosquitoes, so we came home disappointed. Apparently there are still a few days of viewing left before it fades too much to be worth it, so we'll try again if the weather cooperates. After weeks of cloudless skies, we are suddenly socked in.
The person posted a rant about how they usually get 6-7 comments every time they post a chapter on their story, but so far they'd got none on their latest chapter. I can kind of see why they were a bit shaken, as they mentioned that they'd put a lot of effort into the latest chapter.
Then in a later comment they made self-pitying remarks about not being sure if they could carry on like this.
As somebody who would have no comments on the majority of his works if it were not for his beta reader, to my ears this author really sounded whiny and entitled. "My bonus wasn't as large as we were expecting this year, and we may have to choose between a second Bentley, or the pool at our Hawaiian cottage if we want to retain all four nannies. Why does life have to be so hard?"
On the other hand, I acknowledge that somebody who is entitled to a certain level of lifestyle or engagement may feel a genuine loss when they take a hit. While I might wish that I got more comments and feedback on my own stories, I don't begrudge them the love and attention they get for theirs. I'd rather that writers at my level could get elevated to theirs, rather than having them dragged down to ours.
It's an easy thing to fall into he envy trap. It's the kind of thing that people living in positions of wealth and power use to turn the poor against themselves.
I'm trying to avoid the pitfall, but it's hard. When you are the writer equivalent of a person trying to decide between food or medicine, it's tough to sympathize with the person torn between a second house or a world vacation.
It would be nice if we could all afford both options.
But there's also that petty little part in us that loves seeing the rich bastard fall and bloody his nose now and then.
In other news, my picture-a-day project for 2020 is still on target.
I made picked up some bacon last week and candied a bit of it. I meant to make bacon jam, but this worked too. Gonna give it another try later this week.
This squirrel was threatening me. He/She was maintaining a cowardly safe distance and giving me an earful for the mere crime of existing.
We went up to the west end of the city last Friday to get a view of the comment. The clouds refused to break up enough for a view, and we started getting eaten by mosquitoes, so we came home disappointed. Apparently there are still a few days of viewing left before it fades too much to be worth it, so we'll try again if the weather cooperates. After weeks of cloudless skies, we are suddenly socked in.
