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My Story

Rewritten

An Essay Collection

By

Tiffany Fulton



SMASHWORDS EDITION



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PUBLISHED BY:

Tiffany Fulton on SMASHWORDS


My Story

Rewritten

An Essay Collection

Copyright © 2017 by Tiffany Fulton



All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.


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Contents:


Dear_Writer

Random_Rant

Worst_Artist_Writer_Ever_Rant

A_Plan_and_Rant

Thanks_for_Your_Patience

Self_Reflection_Time

Life_Updates_Weight_Loss_and_Diet

Tying_Up_Loose_Ends

About_the_Author

Also_by_Tiffany

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Dear Writer:

Originally published on FictionPress:

May 31, 2016


Just a letter to every writer out there. You're going to have bad days and some that aren't so bad. The point is that writing isn't as easy as everyone fantasizes that it is. I self-published my work 5 years ago, but that doesn't make me happy.


Dear Writers of every skill level and profession:


I have been a published writer since 2004.

I published a lot of poems and stories here on Fiction Press until 2011, when I read about a young woman named Amanda Hocking who self-published her work and eventually after working very hard, she got signed with a traditional book publisher.

I won't lie to you. I can only dream of working as hard as this lady does. Maybe you should look her up.

So I took my own stories down from here and uploaded them to Smashwords and Amazon's Kindle Store to see if anything would come out of it. I had no idea what I was doing then, just publishing my short work online. And for a while, due to my naïveté, nothing was exactly what I got. Later in 2011, Facebook blew up among my college classmates and I promoted my books there. I even did the same thing on Twitter and Pinterest.

The Internet stopped being fun after 5 years of boredom and a dying impact I was making. Everything on the Internet has been turned into a vessel for money-it feels like this to me. I make very little money if I'm lucky-most of the time, I don't. My work is still up where ever you buy your e-books from.

I get depressed thinking about everything that doesn't contribute to writing. I want writing to be fun and awesome in my life. But so much has happened to me that I can't remember how to write like the old me.

The point is that you're going to have some days or moments in your writing life where you feel like you suck at something you love, whether you get paid for it or not.

What follows are rants, joys, and frustrations that I have encountered on this journey of writing. My weakest moments as a writer were unveiled in 2016, and in May of that year is where everything fell apart. I had to stop and re-evaluate my life and goals, as I’m sure most of us do. I hadn’t published anything as an independent writer since that year, but I hope to change this soon. My goal with these rants was complete honesty about writing and its effect on my life so far. If it sounds too much like I was complaining—well, that’s because that’s what these reflections are in a way. Please stop reading now if that makes you uncomfortable.

. Something had to be done when I was in this depression. I took a year off from writing fiction and faced my personal truths about where I want to go as a creative person, and here they are. I have learned so much from these lessons and trials and will be writing fiction again very soon. Have you experienced these things?

Write anyway.

Love,

Me


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Random Rant


July 3, 2004. (The date Soldier Evolution Revolutionary Girl was published)

I had a story with 4 years of history (which will be explained in the next essay) that needed a home. A home where it would be loved, possibly hated, and full of the naiveté of a first time fiction writer. I didn't think that publishing this story on the Internet would mark the first step in a journey that still continues today. (By the way, that story is available for you to read here on Fiction Press: Soldier Evolution Revolutionary Girl.)

I will get into detail about my past as a writer in the future, but let's skip to where the reality of creativity and passion crashed against a more "practical" thing: Work. Last year on April 9th, I was hired as a library technician—my first job out of college that has lasted for more than 3 months. I kid you not.

I thought nothing would or ever could get in the way of my passion for writing, but this job did—for 7 long months. It hurt to think about writing, and whenever I tried to write, I would cry and become a moody little girl instead of the 27 year old I should've behaved like. Not being able to express this frustration to anyone was more painful than anything. Family shamed me for sticking to something—not for money, but for my fucking sanity—and I almost destroyed my soul with my own negative self-talk.

The weird thing is…I've been here for a year and 2 months now, and the novelty of the "dream job," that I counted on as a fallback…you know, in case the whole-writing for a living thing didn't work out, died within the first three months of my being hired. It didn't take long for me to take the good with the bad…working with homeless people who have to get by and have a place to stay has opened my eyes, dealing with perverted homeless men who think they have something to offer me when they can't even take care of themselves, loud kids and even ruder parents, etc. All of that six days a week is exhausting and has become a routine. (No more waking up thinking, "Holy shit. I work at a library-this is fucking awesome." Now it's more like…"If I don't find a full-time job soon, I may only make it two years here,").

As much as I love this job, I have some gripes about it. First of all, it's not a full-time position. (I can hear the cries, "OMG, why is she bitching about that? A job is better than no job,") I've had 3 shitty jobs for the past for years that were part-time. I don't know about you, but I want my own roof over my head someday before I'm thirty…(Yep, I'm a Millennial—Get over it.)

There are other reasons, but I don't want to depress you. (Probably too late for that, right?)

Luckily, there's this cool writing community online and with Amazon's Kindle Publishing program, I was able to calm the fuck down and remind myself why I appreciate having writing to fall back on when I get mopey and depressed about this job.

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Worst Artist/Writer Ever Rant

Originally published on Fiction Press

Published: 08-17-16


I'm at work and it's 5:42 p.m. as I type this now. I went in to work at the library two hours early today…Hey, extra money, right? But's never enough, you know? That's sort of the point of this new record thing. I have my dream job, but the whole being part-time thing just sucks the life out of me every time something happens. Is it normal to reach this plateau of all of sudden reaching your goals and then wanting more?

My job at the library is awesome, but I feel like the creative part of me has been thrown under the bus and then hit by the other vehicles on the road.

I feel so greedy when I think about it. It's pissing me off. I'm not talking about material things that aren't essential to life—I can get that stuff any time, but I would like more life enriching experiences or moments of clarity and stuff, like when I starting writing as a child. Going without fulfilling work for four years was soul-sucking and hard and depressing…it's like Dementors came and settled around my light until they ate everything that made me happy—the part of me who lives to make stuff…is gone.


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