Would a Sword Be Stronger Than My Pen?

This piece is dedicated to Francisco Iglesias on Medium. He and I had such a healthy conversation, and we challenged ourselves to write an article like this one each. I'm so glad he gave me his time with our conversation, and I hope that I've helped inspire him in some way.

Stats and metrics.

Looking at these, I wonder if what I am doing with my spare time is worth it. My book is unsuccessful, and my current thought process is that I need to get my second book done in order to gain more traction on that. I haven't made even $100 on Vocal in the two years I've been a premium member. And I've only started on Medium, and it already shows much more promise to eventually be worth the $15 a month I spend on that... one day.

The stats and metrics... all tell me I'm wasting my time.

So why am I doing this to myself?

It's hard to explain really. The feeling of failure over and over becomes heavy after a while. And it seems like any success I may have is achieved at the pace and value of a slug. But that's only if we're talking about monetary success, or even stat and metric success.

The reason I've ever written has never been about stats and metrics.

And I am more than aware that I am not, and never will be, the 'best' writer, or even up in any top-tier league of writing legends. Here's hoping that when I am dead, my words will increase in value and awareness. But the truth of the matter is that probably won't happen either.

When I forget what matters and begin to base my feeling of accomplishment on stats, metrics, and sales, I feel what I deserve to feel...

That might be me being a little harsh on myself, but my disappointment and feeling of failure cut me deep. But when these moments happen, my failure isn't my low stats and metrics, it's my negative attitude. During moments of financial stress, I lament and self-mutilate mentally over the fact that I'm stuck between child-care and transportation issues, so I can't be valuable to my family. I can't contribute financially, so therefore I feel worthless. Which is nonsense, because my family would never let us falter. We may struggle at times, but between all of us, we have never drowned before.

I am an average person, with an average life, and an average personality. And if I based my level of success on my monetary gains or stats or metrics, then I would never get to feel like I've succeeded in things. In the corporate world, and the world of writers...I'm a nobody. And I only feel displeasure at this fact when I have lost my way, and look at my successes based on my stats.

The secret to my "success" lies much, much deeper than stats, metrics, sales, and numbers.

The thing I forget sometimes, when I am doubting my path is that a long time ago I chose to that I wasn't writing for money, fame, or recognition. And I most certainly wasn't writing for stats or metrics. My goal was to leave something behind in this world. I wanted to leave treasures, nuggets of good. Pieces of wisdom that might be useful to someone once every few years.

I don't have a particular niche that I am an 'expert' in, rather several topics I do a lot of talking about. I write about things that are within my experience, things that are personal in my life. Like surviving abusive relationships and self-growth, to break the trauma bonds that bind me. Health, particularly women's health, as I am a lucky enough individual to have gotten her endocrine imbalance in check. Things that can help one or two people - because let's be real - my ambitions aren't big enough to say 'thousands.'

I began writing stories as a girl. Stories were the most amazing things of my complicated childhood, where the only safe thing to do for certain was read a good book. The more I read, the more I explored. The more I read, and discovered how being immersed in a thrilling adventure took my fears and stresses away, the more I wished I could tell a story.

And I found that deep within my soul and brain, there are countless stories. So much imagination locked away into boxes and boxes of wild adventures. Sometimes my dreams would inspire me more. Nightmares turn into hundreds of short story adventures. Daydreaming, drawing characters in anime style on paper instead of paying attention to American History lectures in class.

Then I grew up and did what broken people do, and made choices that led to trauma. And then words began to be what kept the darkness at bay and the voices in my head from turning into a deafening roar. I experienced a lot. I lived a lot. I hurt a lot. I metaphorically bled and literally cried...a lot.

And writing saved me. If it weren't for the ability to bare my soul - to nobody and everybody in the world at the same time, I would have so much locked inside me still, poisoning me with the pus of a festering wound upon my heart and soul. Writing was my source of freedom for so many years, that today, in my newfound strength and freedom that I have, that writing is a comfort. Like the arms of a familiar friend, embracing me and steadying me when the winds blow too hard to knock me down.

It still helps me sort of my feelings so that I may let them go, to join the past with all the things that no longer matter, like a dream almost forgotten.

Today, I remind myself what my version of success is - and why I still write.

Success to me is the tears I cried and the feeling of wholeness and joy when I learned that my book could have saved a life. Knowing I could touch somebody's heart in such a way with just a story, and bring them comfort in their darkest moments. It hadn't been my intention when I wrote the story - but to know that it could - and how many more people in the future might it help? How many people, eventually, one day, will experience joy and adventure while reading the fairytale I created?

Will those words be the reason they want to tell a story of their own one day? Things I hadn't thought about until people told me how they felt when they read my story.

Even if it doesn't help any more people in the future - it already helped one. And for me, that's more than what I thought my book could do for someone.

It's the look of amazement on my kid's face when I tell them one of my stories. It's the pride in my mom's face, when she talks to people about my book. For me, success is knowing that my words are helping, entrancing, spreading joy and inspiration. Even if I never become well-known... I'm doing what I really wanted to when I began writing in the first place: I wanted to be inspiring.

Not rich. Not famous. Though, flirting with the idea of getting paid for being awesome is nice, it's not the reason I want to keep writing, using all of my heart, passion, knowledge and imagination. You don't become an artist of any sort because 'the money is good.' You become an artist because there's a part of your soul that cries out and howls and thrashes against being contained. Whether it's rage or love, desperation or victory - there's something inside that has to be let out. Whether it's painting or creating or words or dancing or singing... it's something that is a part of you, that is bigger than you, that is all of you, bursting to be expressed in some way that will make an impression to last.

And not everyone has to see it. Or recognize it. Or know it. It never has to be viral or history-making or world-changing. It can stay as small as it needs to be - to stay special and unique and beautiful. Even if only 1 person ever sees it, as long as that one person let out a breath and lost themselves in it for just a moment... that's just enough to justify it's existence.

And that is how I feel about my writing, about my stories. I only have one story about there right now, and many little ones scattered about my world and house. But there will be more. Because I have so many stories that are long to be told. And so many articles that can educate someone who may need to know about the one thing I have wisdom on. And even if they are only helping one person... then that's enough.

I won't hold myself back forever, but for now, I am happy in my creation process.

One day, when I have more to offer the world, I'll dream bigger and try harder to spread my words further and further. But for now, I'll keep creating them, and let them create a presence all on their own. I believe they can. Whoever needs my words... I know they will find them.

A Call To Action: I challenge you all to write an article about why you write the next time you are feeling discouraged, or like you may need a break. Write an article that talks about why you may be feeling discouraged. And then get back to your roots. Remember WHY you began to write in the first place. Remind yourself of who you are, and what your writing means to you. :) You don't have to link it to me if you don't want to, after all that article will be mostly for you. To help you get back on track. But, I would love to read other people's articles, if you want to share it with me.

Time is precious, thank you so much for taking some to read my article. I hope you enjoyed it and it proved useful in some way!

Find my fictional fantasy book "Memoirs of the In-Between" on Amazon in paperback, eBook, and hardback.

You can also find it in the Apple Store or on the Campfire Reading app.