Journey to 500 Followers
Before I start this piece, I want to extend a warm thank you to all those who have read my stories over the last three months.
And a middle finger to those who have followed me and not read a single word.
I started on this writing site about three months ago. All those firsts were wonderful. First piece published. First view. First read — not the same as a view. First follower.
As a novice, I was thrilled with my journey.
My reads slowly grew. My follower numbers grew. All part of a natural upward progression.
My suspicions also grew.But I was young, carefree, foolish. I scattered my talents across the publications as if there were no beginning to them. I commented freely without worrying what Mother might say. I spread myself wherever an opportunity arose.
And a middle finger to those who have followed me and not read a single word.
I started on this writing site about three months ago. All those firsts were wonderful. First piece published. First view. First read — not the same as a view. First follower.
As a novice, I was thrilled with my journey.
My reads slowly grew. My follower numbers grew. All part of a natural upward progression.
My suspicions also grew.But I was young, carefree, foolish. I scattered my talents across the publications as if there were no beginning to them. I commented freely without worrying what Mother might say. I spread myself wherever an opportunity arose.
At times, my candle burned brightly. Too brightly. It burned the curtains of my endeavours (it’s literary stuff, deal with it) and set fire to my ambition. Which became a burning ambition. I was determined to succeed.
I refreshed stats like a madman. I counted those followers. Each new one was a victory for me and my magnificent output. I was a Colossus, guarding my harbour entrance against all who might enter without permission.
And then one day, I fell back to earth. Like Icarus of old, I had flown too close to the sun. My wings became sizzled pieces of bacon — delicious but useless in an aerodynamic sense.
I refreshed stats like a madman. I counted those followers. Each new one was a victory for me and my magnificent output. I was a Colossus, guarding my harbour entrance against all who might enter without permission.
And then one day, I fell back to earth. Like Icarus of old, I had flown too close to the sun. My wings became sizzled pieces of bacon — delicious but useless in an aerodynamic sense.
I landed in the Sea of Sanity. My reads were still improving, marginally. My followers were growing, exponentially. This made no sense.
Surely, if you grow your followers, your reads will also grow? I consulted the Oracle. And then another Oracle. There are hundreds on this site. They warned me about false profits.
I took time out to consider. Meanwhile, my followers continued to grow. Many of them do not even pretend to have read something. No clap, no comment — just follow.
I found that irritating. Then annoying. And ultimately, maddening. I told my therapist about it. They asked me how I felt. I just told you, I said.
“That will be two hundred dollars,” they said. It helped. I began to recover.
When I returned to writing, I acquired a new follower. I hurled abuse at them. It wasn’t until later that I realised they had read and commented on one of my articles. I went back into therapy.
Now I have coping skills
Surely, if you grow your followers, your reads will also grow? I consulted the Oracle. And then another Oracle. There are hundreds on this site. They warned me about false profits.
I took time out to consider. Meanwhile, my followers continued to grow. Many of them do not even pretend to have read something. No clap, no comment — just follow.
I found that irritating. Then annoying. And ultimately, maddening. I told my therapist about it. They asked me how I felt. I just told you, I said.
“That will be two hundred dollars,” they said. It helped. I began to recover.
When I returned to writing, I acquired a new follower. I hurled abuse at them. It wasn’t until later that I realised they had read and commented on one of my articles. I went back into therapy.
Now I have coping skills
That is why, today, I can celebrate with you this momentous occasion of five hundred followers. As my old college mentor said to me, “Mark, others have achieved the same, quicker and better, but you have done it with sarcasm. Well done.”
I paraphrase her remarks to make it seem like a point in my favour. That’s called a literary flourish, like a lie, but with allowances. What she actually said will remain in the anals of history.
In all seriousness, to those genuine people I have met, I am pleased to have met you and grateful for your reads. Take a bow.
All 500 of you.
I paraphrase her remarks to make it seem like a point in my favour. That’s called a literary flourish, like a lie, but with allowances. What she actually said will remain in the anals of history.
In all seriousness, to those genuine people I have met, I am pleased to have met you and grateful for your reads. Take a bow.
All 500 of you.