On weirdness and being indie-born

I like being indie. I actually don’t even think I could be anything else. I mean, sure, when I was younger, my dreams of being a published author were framed around traditional publishing, because when I was younger, it never occurred to me that anything else was possible. Either you were published by someone else, or you weren’t, in my mind.

A lot has changed since then. And I’ve learned that I’m not the kind of writer who can churn out market-driven books. It’s just not in my DNA. Maybe some people of a certain disposition would say that makes me an amateur. I’d like to think that way of thinking is going extinct, along with that disposition, though.

Writing is my dominant form of self-expression and connection with the world outside myself. But it puts me into a vulnerable position because my ideas and the way I express them are utterly subjective, often to the point of being weird, according to some people. Which is tough because the thing that has probably caused me the most anguish in life is being misunderstood by the very people with whom I’ve sought to connect.

The connection part of it becomes difficult when those people say they “don’t get it”. Even worse when that person is a friend, or a teacher, or a parent. Especially when those same people are the ones telling me what my gifts are, but I’m using them wrong.

I’ve spent a lot of time crying and ruminating about it, and lately I’ve come to the realization that some people are always going to misunderstand me. Some of them, maybe even on purpose. I’m tired of spending my energy on trying to be understood by people who can’t or won’t.

I can’t express myself on someone else’s terms. So rather than trying to force myself to be something I’m not, I have no choice but to lean into it and accept that what I write is probably never going to be easily categorized or fit neatly into a specific genre. It’s not that I don’t care for form or style, I actually care very much about those things and I am conscious of them when I’m writing. But I have to be able to apply them on my own terms, and meet my own subjective aesthetic ideal.

Being indie means I get to do that. It’s not going to prevent some people from misunderstanding me, but it means I can go around them in search of people who will connect with what I write. It’s not a direct line to “success” (whatever that means) but it’s better than how I feel when I’m forced to compromise my creative integrity to “do it this way” or “make this be like that” for someone who’ll say “I don’t get it” or “I’m disappointed in you” anyway.

It’s never been about being intentionally rebellious or unconventional. Sometimes I wish I had it in me to “color inside the lines”. It probably would have made my life a lot easier in some ways if I could have just made myself do things the way I’m “supposed to”. (The fact that I’ve literally never been able to follow instructions and then somehow ended up writing instructions for a living is… well, there is probably a lot to unpack there, LOL).

So yeah. Being indie isn’t a consolation prize for not being traditionally published. It’s not plan B. It’s not “less than”. It’s just how I’m wired, which is an anagram for weird, and that’s my micdrop for the day.