Quirks often come disguised as a big payoff.
Recently I’ve been writing my pretty little head off. Well, let’s assume two things here.
- Pretty is kind of subjective. I ain’t My Fair Lady pretty, but then I’m not Frankenstein ugly.
- And my head is still attached to my shoulders by benefit of my neck and no bolts have been used in the process.
I’ve been able to put out a piece a day for the last four months.
Okay, I missed one day.
I ran out of time. There was that one time when the lawn needed mowing and I couldn’t get my personal errands to figure out how to run themselves.
Most times I try to take my own advice and not give into compulsive stat checking here on Medium. For the last several months I’ve found it way too damn depressing. Nowadays I only check my underachievement when I get home from my side hustle.
It’s depressing enough at my age — close to antiquity — to be working in the technology business anyway. I remember the last time I reminisced to much younger co-workers on the days of baudot paper tape and punch cards and they all stared at me in puzzlement.
What the hell is a 5 punch or 7 punch baudot paper tape?
An IBM 536? Isn’t that a typewriter?
Okay you get it now right?
Suffice it to say, I’m getting close to that big old pasture in the sky and that’s why I’m working my arse off to get my writing career up and running.
Then I had a quirky — Oh My God — moment happen this June 24th.
My read stats quadrupled.
Normally I was getting about 80 reads a day. And then it started trending down from there until the day before the big bang when I only received 29 reads for the entire day. I was depressed. So much so I asked God for just a little help. Sometimes God listens. Most time I just hear laughter.
And then this happened.
- 436 reads June 24
- 650 reads June 25
- 640 reads June 26
I was flabbergasted. I was simply gobsmacked. I was thinking my Andy Warhol 15 minutes of fame had finally arrived. All the hard work I’d been putting in was paying off. I was on my way to be the next name in the top 7% earners on Medium.
And then the quirk which was a quirk, that had always been a quirk disguised as my Andy Warhol moment, stopped being a quirk and became reality once again.
I am sad to report my current read rate for the day after the heavens opened up (Thank you God, I’ll try to go to church this weekend) is…
Oh Fame you are such a finicky asshole.
I guess I should be deliriously happy though folks. I mean according to Andy you only get 15 minutes. I at least got three days.
But I keep writing.
Who knows maybe the quirk will happen again. Maybe this time I’ll get six days.
I’ll never know unless I keep moving forward right?
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