I often get ideas about what to write in the middle of the night. Sometimes I remember the ideas, and sometimes I don’t. Last night, I woke up at 4 AM to pee, which is not unusual for an old guy like me with BPH. What was remarkable was that instead of an idea popping into my head regarding an idea to write about, I was thinking, why do I even write on Medium if no one pays attention to my stories?
I don’t know why I suddenly started feeling down about what I was doing. Perhaps it’s because I have spent a good deal of time in the past couple of weeks creating a newsletter. Like many on this platform, my readership and earnings have declined dramatically. Last year, at this time, I had about 200 reads daily; today, I am lucky to get 10.I attributed this to the inability of the Medium membership, especially my followers, to find what I publish. I thought using a newsletter would help my readers find my stories.
Creating the newsletter was quite tiresome, as I knew little about web design and the technology used to develop and maintain a newsletter. However, I was quite proud of myself for completing this project. But then, after sending my first newsletter to my Medium subscribers, I began to have second thoughts.
Would my present subscribers unsubscribe once they receive the email with my newsletter? Would they delete it without reading it? Would it end up in the spam folder? Did I waste a lot of time for nothing? I’m not sure.
Soon after sending the first newsletter, I received a strange, if not rude, comment on one of my stories. The commenter basically told me that my stats were low because my work wasn’t very good, and I could improve my reads by following him and reading his stories. I didn’t know how to react. Before I deleted him, I checked his profile.
He joined Medium this month and had a few hundred followers and maybe ten articles published. What was striking was that each of his stories, which could have been better, had over 1.5K claps.
I began to think of all those articles I had read that had accumulated hundreds of claps within the first couple of hours of publication. Many stories I have found as fascinating as dryer lint have also had over a thousand claps. The writers often have fewer followers than me, which causes me to wonder about my followers. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to other writers, but I am human and can’t help but question what is wrong with me.
I used to follow and subscribe to many people, but I no longer do. One in particular is a very prolific writer, publishing several times daily. I tried to read as many of his stories as I could but soon lost interest. He seemed to always talk about himself in a braggadocios manner, but somehow his stories lacked feeling. He was more of a publishing machine than a writer sharing himself.
A few writers I enjoyed reading and getting to know disappeared after continued disappointing results on this platform. One writer I used to read faithfully and commensurate with is now rarely seen. She used to be a faithful follower and reader. Others I came to know have left for reasons unknown.
I publish in only a few publications I like and feel comfortable with, and I self-publish my political articles. I have writers I follow and subscribe to, and I make it a point to read most, if not all, of their articles. I won’t mention their names because I don’t want to drop names to get a few views. But they know who they are.
They may not always write masterpieces, but what they write from the heart about themselves and what they do. Reading their stories is like having a beer or cup of coffee and shooting the shit with a friend. I’ve gotten to know them and let them get to know me. I consider them to be friends. This is what I would miss if I ever left Medium.
I have done everything I can, within the limits of my ability as what others would call a writer. When talking with friends, neighbors, or family members, I cannot bring myself to say, “I am a writer.” But I cannot find a way to make my work interesting enough for people to read. I thought creating a newsletter would help, but it’s probably just another misadventure, like my futile attempts at writing blogs on WordPress and Blogger. Maybe someday I’ll learn.
I’ll continue sending my newsletter until my free plan runs out. Who knows, maybe things will pick up. Being an opinionated old fart, I probably won’t be able to swallow my pride and throw in the towel. So, I’ll stick around and rethink what I am doing on Medium. Thank you for allowing me to vent and wallow in self-pity for a while.
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