You Can’t Make A Mistake On Medium. Stop Thinking You Can.
One of the problems on social media in general — and Medium.com in particular — is that you are GUARANTEED to be told You Are Doing It Wrong.
Usually by people who want to convince you that you’re not making enough money at it…not getting enough eyeballs on it…or you are otherwise nothing but literary cannon fodder or bottom feeders.
(But read their article or take their course and maybe you can change that…)
Uh, nope. Not drinking that Kool-Aid, thank you.
If you come on here strictly to make money, then pass my little screed on by. Not that there is anything WRONG with money, mind you; it’s the energy that moves the world, in most places.
But I am sick and tired of people doing EVERYTHING because they are supposed to make money at it. And being told if they aren’t, they’re doing it wrong.
Words are magic. But like clients at a psychic fair, sometimes the eyeballs to read them aren’t here yet.
Why is that like clients?
When I read at huge expos in Canada, I always shared a booth with my friend Debbie. She and I had totally different energies — I was the clue-brick-upside-the-head Noo Yawker, and she was the lovely and gracious iron-fist-inside-the-velvet-glove Canadian.
And we were both accomplished intuitives.
Often, though I would be slamming down the appointments hell-bent-for-leather, and Debbie would be standing at her booth, chatting people up and handing over information, but not getting a third of the clients I was.
Was she jealous? Was she angry?
Nope. She would just smile and say, “My people aren’t here yet.”
And they eventually showed up, and there would be days when the energy shifted, with Debbie’s schedule eight-appointments-in-a-row deep and me chatting people up and waiting for my first of the day.
That’s normal. That’s the world.
The energy shifted. And my people eventually got there.
I’ve written three books. They are self-published. Have I sold tens of thousands? No. Have the reviews been good? Absolutely — when people bother to write them.
But I loved the writing process. Holding a fresh volume in my hand was magic.
And I know that every single volume will reach the right person who needs it at the time.
They’ll pass on the word.
More of my books will get read.
The words — the words that matter — will make a difference in the right lives.
You want to make a million bucks on Medium, be the Top Writer in 35 categories? Be my guest. That’s not my goal.
My goal is to write every useful word I can before I die (and that event is closer than it used to be, at 67).
Maybe I’ll be like the artists lionized after their deaths.
Maybe my books will be given to someone’s grandchild to treasure in the future.
I won’t know.
But I’ll know that I spoke my heart, my mind, my passions.
I’ll still be in this world.
Still talking, still inspiring, still giving hope in the future, with a wisecrack along the way.
Priceless.
