I have been a passionate writer for years now; it’s only recently that I’ve begun to delve into the world of getting my works published. I know it’s easy for people to point out trends and show what’s forecasting to be popular in 2022. I know it’s easy for people to point to statistics and say, “This is what everyone is reading these days.”
But I don’t want my books to be for mass consumption. I don’t want my books to be plastered with stickers like an “As seen on TV” toaster. I’m not saying I want my writing to be obscure or unknown, but I am not writing for a mass market. I want people to read my writing because it resonates with some deep part of their soul.
Today, I received a series of messages from a fellow poet. She lives in South Africa, but she admitted to me she saw parts of herself in my poetry. Another author from Chile told me that parts of her were reflected in a poem I just finished. That’s what is important to me. I don’t care if I’m on a best seller list or if no one buys my books – I want my words to reverberate truth to those who read them. I want my writing to be something that stirs in the hearts and souls of those who read it.
Last night, I received a letter from my son, telling me that I’m a good artist, and to be honest, after growing frustrated with the numbers and the followers and the algorithms, it was nice to be reminded why I do this.
I write so that others may find their voice among the fray. I write so others don’t feel lost or lonely. I write to be someone’s candle when all their lives they thought themselves blind.
In 2022, I hope to write more, publish more of my writing, and continue to spark awareness in others. I pierce my own veins so that poetry uncoils from the skin, and the reader sees me as a mirror. So that the reader knows they are not alone.