The PR Man in My Head

The PR man in my head shouts for all my pleasure and pride, making their case, telling me not to wait.

“Be the loudest and you will make it. Do not weigh or consider. Shout often and loud, and everyone will listen.”

“You could be on the screens, re-posted and re-acted. Why wait if no one cares either way? Why think when no one notices?”

“That still voice will only hold you back, and make you poor and un-listened. That shit on TV makes more money than War and Peace. Quality is relative.”

“If you do the opposite: Try to weigh and write only true things, You will be left behind. You will despair in yourself and the world.”

I resist the PR man in my head, but he gets louder and louder in the vacuum left by the profits and success totems I do not have.

He makes me doubt if I am doing it right or being ignorant, like a bestseller who plagiarizes and makes a baby fortune, and believes they are great.

I repeat lines about how writing is not marketing, and not doing it for the money, while still waiting for his big break.

But the big break would not change the truth . . .

I will fight the PR man past death because he is wrong and ridiculous, and I will not add to his pile of plundered life.


First, thank you for reading! To echo a sentiment from Thomas Hardy, I greatly regret that I will never be able to meet many of you in person and shake your hands, but perhaps we can virtually shake hands. It is a poor substitute, but it will have to do in this strange world. If you subscribe I promise I will not gum up your inbox.

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