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I'll text you

Wednesday 1/6/21

Someone: That's an awesome segment

Someone: Well mother fucking done

C: Shows you how oblivious, ignorant, and apathetic the world is to talent. That guy can't get a job in radio. Or even a response. And has never been approached. I listen to them now. I find it so depressing.

S: The difference between you and any other guest on that show is huge and easily noticeable

C: The difference between me and anyone in publishing, media, radio, TV, culture, and society is huge and easily noticeable.

C: Or huge, anyway. I'm not so sure anyone can notice much of anything.

S: I agree

S: I do think more people than you think recognize it and it works against you

C: That's discouraging.

S: I'm talking about the jealousy part of the pie

C: I understood.

C: But I don't know what to say to someone telling me I have a huge problem--not that I disagree with you--that people don't like me because I'm great. What can my response even be?

C: And it's true. Very few people like greatness. There is no solution I'm aware of.

C: Your comments and this article made me more depressed than usual tonight.

C: In that piece you'll notice a few things. What I've been saying about "it takes a village." How you have to be a a bland, basic, talentless simpleton to be supported, and how you need to write bland, basic work to have a large audience. This isn't about genius or pushing the envelope, even when that genius, envelope-pushing work is every bit as accessible and more entertaining, and funny, and life-infusing, and an honest-to-goodness life experience unlike any other. It's about white bread. It's about being nothing because being nothing isn't threatening to very simple, insecure, scared publishing people who make decisions based on what is cliched and repeatable, and not what is new and what can be, and most of whom require you to be the kind of person they are, or else they'll be too intimidated and, like you said, jealous. And being personally liked because you're a simple, Wonder Bread dumbass who writes things I'm incapable of writing because they're so bad as writing. I'm going to die in this apartment.

C: Look at those numbers. 500,000 first print run. Thousands of industry people trying to make a book "happen." Handwritten notes to reviewers. I can't get a Twitter follower. Read what it says about simple, suburban white women and marketing to them like they're dull, obtuse children. This is how you have success. The writing, as they say, is "cringe."


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