I am excluded from publishing.
I am marginalised in relation to publishing.
I am surprised to find myself thinking like that. I spent twenty years or more of my life being marginalised and excluded by childhood sexual abuse and mental illness. I resolved it through work. I am surprised – though perhaps I shouldn’t be – to find the same experience occurring again, in a different context.
I am not excluded just because of what other people are doing. I am also excluding myself because of the choices I make.
I am excluded from publishing by age and class.
Publishers will not consider a new author over fifty. They want time for you to develop what they think of as a career.
When I started being productive I was sixty-four. There was no way they were going to look at me.
Publishers are upper-middle class. They want authors to be upper-middle class.
I am not upper-middle class. I went to an upper-middle class university. I reverted to the default value.
I live a fairly bohemian life. My origins are lower-middle class.
I am not like the people who work in publishing.
I exclude myself from publishing by my attitude to editing. I won’t tolerate it. My attitude is simple. You touch my book. I break your fingers.
I exclude myself from publishing by my attitude to marketing. I do not like markets. I hate the mass market. I am not motivated by money. And I won’t do social media.
I am marginalised in relation to publishing by originality. My books are different. There is no comparison book. There is no comparison author. The sales and marketing team don’t know what to do with me.
I am marginalised in relation to publishing by radicalism. I hate inequality. I believe in the collapse of civilisation. Those are not views that upper-middle class readers can tolerate.
I publish myself.
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