by Shelt Garner
At the moment, I continue to drift towards my goal of being a traditionally published author in a delusional haze. But there is going to come a moment when I begin to query this novel when the cold, hard metrics of reality are going to come crashing down on me.
What I’m thinking about specifically is the due diligence that literary agents are inevitably going to do on me. Given that I’m 100% extroverted, I really have been out there on social media, being my drunk crank self. And that doesn’t even begin to address the various things I’ve said on this blog that could very easily get me “canceled.”
I’ve repeatedly been what some “woke cancel culture mob” people might say is “fat phobic” when I called Trump’s former Sectary of State Mike Pompeo a “fat fuck.” But not only did he deserve it because if he was ever POTUS, I’m the specific type person he would come after, but I would like to think such low brow political rhetoric is protected political speech.
But, no, any literary agent who sees that will probably just roll their eyes and move on.
That the thing about being a drunk crank who’s a loser who aspires to be a success — you just can’t win. The only difference between a drunk crank loser and someone who is “unique” is just success. But the transition from drunk crank loser to being “a colorful, unique eccentric” can be almost impossible because, generally, people are judgement assholes.
It all boils down to — I can’t help who the fuck I am. I just can’t help how old I am or that I’m a smelly “CIS white male” who likes to drink and spout off on various forms of social media while intoxictaed.
Slings and arrows and all that.