The Gonzo Journals
February 24th, 2023
First, Happy Birthday to my youngest daughter Cheyanne! Dad loves you and I hope your day is magical and unforgettable. I’m so proud of you!
Now? To business.
My latest philosophy has been to utilize my website to its fullest potential rather than blast random thoughts on social media. Yes, I know this is unconventional and time consuming, but it’s mentally freeing. I’ve also stopped peddling my wares in the faces of the public and just let the work speak for itself. Well, regardless of how a few others tried to sabotage one of my stories via their own limited literary knowledge, my experiment endured. There’s only so long review culture will be able to boast their influence before their fanbase realizes how full of shit they truly are.
I want to bash and trash these individuals so badly, but I know it’s not in my best interest. I know who I truly am and never needed anyone’s validation for my unique existence. Granted, it was bumpy for a while, and it even required trial and error with some psych meds to recover, but goddamn those meds have unlocked doors I didn’t even know existed! So, in a way, I should be thanking them for their harsh words and one-star reviews. THEY are the cause of all this sudden recognition so…thank you?
My last major release was ripped to shreds twelve hours after availability by a Goodreads bully group who wouldn’t know literary greatness if it crawled between their legs and started humming. Just like ANY group on the internet, they pride themselves on solidarity and their ability to gang up on unsuspecting writers who somehow found the courage to author something for public scrutiny. They place their own soul on the chopping block and these trolls take turns with the knives. Do you know how much bravery is required to release a book for all to see? It’s disgusting, but the community encourages them. They even cheer them on! In the words of Josiah ‘Doc’ Scurlock from the film Young Guns, “Jesus Christ, this country needs a hero.” Trust me. These fuckers aren’t it.
Eventually, my novella found its audience regardless of their combined attempts to bury it. Still, the damage had been done. I sank into a deep depression because I took their reviews to heart. My alcoholism increased and I nearly gave up writing altogether. But why, though? Why would I let a group of people who clearly taint the well out of pure jealousy dispose of my lifelong dream? Easy answer. To stop the voices.
Yes, no matter how many artists try to convince you that public acceptance isn’t important, it’s what all artists eventually strive for. Anyone who says otherwise is just trying to sound like the cool kid hanging out by the jukebox. We want everyone to love our work and tend to take it personally when they don’t. These are our babies we are sending out into the world. We bled onto pages for months, sometimes years, in hopes of being celebrated. When it backfires, it’s mentally devastating. The same goes for painting, sculpting, and films. The internet trolls bathe in the wretch of their negative influence, gaining strength and recognition within their respective communities. It’s a tactic meant for denying the artist’s craved acceptance and transferring it onto people whose only offerings to the creative community are harsh words and biased opinions.
Unfortunately, some of my weaker colleagues felt the desire for these groups’ acceptance was more important than encouraging a fellow author’s success. Now, the literary world is forced to watch their blatant social media scissoring and tremble anxiously for the inevitable hate squirt. I personally find it sad that this is all they must live for, but who am I to judge someone else’s insecurities?
Oh, yeah. I’m the guy with the website in which you’re currently reading this cryptic offering. In simpler terms? My circus. My monkeys. They’re not even worth being the person who scoops my monkey shit.
Last week, I was contacted by a fan of my cursed novella in regard to contributing my skills to an upcoming video game. Fortunately, before the Goodreads Goon Squad led me down a path of deep sadness and mental instability, I’d written a sort of pseudo sequel to my novella I swore would never see the light of day. In a year or so, if all goes according to plan, gamers from around the world and on every platform will have the chance to know these characters I’ve created. I think modern society would agree there’s more exposure in video games when compared to books so…
I’m not bragging, I’m just counting the unexpected blessings I never guessed would be coming my way. The bullies and trolls have managed to fail this time, but I want to thank them for all the free publicity I received. Mark it on your calendars, folks. A good guy finally won in a world designed for failure.
This will be the last I speak of this project until it’s completed, but I wanted to thank all the good-hearted readers and fans out there who support us nobodies as though we’re gods. You are the reason we dreamers continue to dream and I hope we never let you down.
To the others: eat penguin shit off an Inuit boot and dab it from your chin with the pages torn from your own book of despair. I hope your kids become obsessed with my future IP’s and you’re constantly subjected to their incessant obsession with my name. At some point, I hope you receive a copy as a gift, whether it be a holiday or birthday, because the giver pays zero fucking attention to your desires. Then, in a bold display of desperation, I want you to take a hammer to the disc, break it up into tiny shards, and insert them into your pee hole one by one.
You feel that sting, you bastards? Yeah, it’s nothing compared to the pain you caused me for months. I’m not bitter, though. Just relieved. Get off my literary lawn. Fuck the biz. Create.
Peace is overrated.
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