Authors and illustrators
We watch too much Barney around here… No sense trying to hide it. When I was uninitiated I thought I love you was the reason Barney was annoying… Now I know how much worse it is… Go up to a parent of a toddler and sing “What shall we make today…” If they reply “We’ll make something fun,” they’ll be able to explain the problems to you. You might buy them some alcohol. Just kidding.
Anyway, on a certain episode of Barney, they draw picture books and, upon completion, declare themselves to be authors and illustrators.
It got me thinking again about writers and how much we crave external validation from someone who is ostensibly an authority. I think I’m changing my mind about that… Those authorities make decisions based entirely upon whether or not there is sufficient audience for the work to make it commercially viable. If the only question is “Is there an audience” with perhaps a rejoinder of “How large an audience,” what keeps us from making that call? Why do we need someone else to be the gatekeeper?
So, writer, if you have an audience who is engaged in consuming your material, you’re an author (or a writer, or an artist, whatever your preferred term is)… Whether the middleman said so or not.
Yeah, but when you almost-two-year-old comes running to hug and kiss you every time he hears the I Love You song, it helps make it a bit more palatable.
I love you, you love me…I’m okay, you’re okay. Write on brother, write on. Sure.
Yay! No more gatekeepers!
Fffffrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedddddddommm.
And stuff.