Still, I Keep Writing ~2. The Moments When Writing Becomes Painful, and...~

Here is my creative history.
I am continuing to keep at it at my own pace.

I made my creative debut (on mixi) and received reactions from many people.
Like a fish finding water, my creative motivation increased,
and I started writing.
I didn't just use mixi; I started using other creative sites as well.

However, after a few months passed, I realized something.

I wasn't really being seen (there was no reaction).

I would publish a work and rarely get a 'like.' Comments never came at all.

I had received quite a few at first. Why?
A murky feeling began to grow inside me.

People are kind to newcomers.

I think this meaning is exactly as it sounds.
Doesn't this happen on note, too?
Even with zero followers, you can get (it's easy to get) reactions like 'likes' on your first article.
At least, that was the case for me.
It just happened that the same thing occurred within my creative work.
Perhaps it might be the same in the professional world.
A spectacular debut.
But after that, no one pays attention.
That is not rare at all.
I think I had become a bit of a 👺 on my own.
Thinking that if I just did some kind of reaction (outreach activity), people would see it.
That is impossible unless you are a very famous person.

To get people to see it, of course, some kind of ingenuity is necessary.
Not just strengthening writing skills, but also networking, etc.
(I will talk about this again later)
I am reflecting now, belatedly, that my efforts were insufficient.
Even though it was just a hobby, I was quite serious at the time.

That said, my spirits were flagging quite a bit, and I started thinking about quitting creative work.

I have no talent, I can't put in the effort, and I have no right to write.

There is a piece I wrote while thinking of my favorite character.
I was quite emotionally unstable. I wrote it while crying.
It doesn't have a true happy ending. Still, I wanted to write it. I entrusted my feelings to it.
I'll take a break after this.
A few hours after posting, I received a rare comment.

Just a single phrase. But a significant one.

How happy it made me.
No one had ever said that to me, not even as a polite gesture.
Tears welled up again.

I felt like, 'Maybe I can still write.'
Of course, it's a hobby, and I'm free to do it.
It goes without saying that it's fine, but I was quite weak at the time.

Those words supported me for a long time.

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