Sinking without a trace

Commences is dying a death on Authonomy.  The whole idea, I think, is to go and sell myself to others in the Authonomy community.  Read their stuff, comment on it, ask others to read your stuff – preferably others who would actually read sci fi in the first place.  I’ve only had one person comment so far and it wasn’t favourable.  He didn’t know what was going on.  Hurrrr.  Yes, well, you’re not supposed to know what’s going on.  Isn’t that the whole idea of a surrealistic universe?  And anyway, it adds credence to my constant wail of being oh so sadly misunderstood.  The trouble with this whole promotion stuff is that not only am I very bad at it, I also give up at the first hurdle.  In fact, I only have to SEE a hurdle for me to turn around, go back and sit at the kitchen table eating toast and (homemade!) marmalade and drinking tea and reading one of my daughter’s Young Adult books.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve lost all my passion.  Might as well be dead, then.


About susannahjbell

I am a writer of science fiction and other strange and surreal works. I mostly write novels and the occasional novelette. My published works include A Doorway into Ultra, the Fleet Quintet and the Exodus Sequence. I live in London in an attic flat but really want to live in a tree. I wanted to be an astrophysicist but would settle for an alien abduction. I write because I don’t know what to read.
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One Response to Sinking without a trace

  1. Grant Hudson says:

    I know, it’s frustrating isn’t it? Like the published books are the tip of the iceberg, above the waterline, glistening in the sunshine of exposure, breathing in the oxygen of recognition, while below the waterline are the rest, the dark unpublished masses, drowning incognito, groaning in unrecognised (and therefore wordlessly invalidated) misery…

    I hate the internet. But I love it too. It’s endlessly tempting, infinitely disappointing -like the One Ring, it seduces us and then makes us nothing by about our seventeenth click.

    No need to ask how you are, but I do hope that you will write to me. Or at least, ignore me with such an intensity of gloom that I detect it in the ether…


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