Furious…
I’m furious. Today, my sister went to the job center, and the guy there had the nerve to suggest that she sell her part of our little house. Wtf? Surely that’s not part of his job description. Come to think of it, what is part of his job description, since he obviously can’t help my sister get a job. All those people do is swing the whip for the government. Here in Sweden, only 1-2 % of all jobs come through an employment agency/job center. The rest people have to get for themselves, if they have connections. Needless to say, my family don’t have any connections.
The second thing he said that caused me to fly into a redhot rage was a very personal comment about our mother. She’s retired, but not for health reasons. It’s just that most people here are forced to retire at a certain age (in their 60’s). If she insisted on continuing working, she’d miss out on all her work experience and get paid like a newbie on the work market. He said something like ‘in a couple of years time you’ll have to accept that she’ll get increasingly dependent on you (which is another reason it’s a great idea for you to apply for jobs far away from her) and confused, and won’t be able to deal with things on her own.
I’d like to say, for the record, that in my family, people don’t get that way until they’re somewhere between ninety and a hundred, so he’ll be a doddering old fool a long time before my mom will be, and secondly, again, in what way is personal comments about people’s family members part of his job description?
If I’d been the one to meet this old guy, I don’t think I would have been able to keep quiet. The weird thing is my sister just got sad, not angry, but then again, I guess that’s just me. I get angry first, then sad.
And, by the way, I’m still angry and still thinking of ways to report this creep to someone, but I guess nothing will come of it. I’ll just have to focus on staying calm. Getting this upset won’t get me anywhere.
Writing for the minority
Over the years, I’ve had literally thousands of readers, but of those, practically no one leaves a comment. Out of those few, some have given me very positive feedback. The question is, why don’t more people comment? Lately, I’ve come to the conclusion that most people don’t like my writing. Another reason might be that they feel that the stories I write are too long. Some might like my stories, but are too lazy or not care enough to comment. But even if those are contributing factors, the fact remains, my writing doesn’t appeal to that many people.
It’s discouraging, because I don’t just write this way because I can’t do any better, though maybe that’s part of the truth, I have to face that possiblity, but I actually like these stories. It’s the sort of thing I Iike to read. I’d read more of similar writing if it was available – and in some cases it is. The books I buy are often unknown to the general public, though I like relatively ‘mainstream’ genres and subgenres – mysteries, thrillers, fantasy, historic novels.
There isn’t much I can do about the popularity of my stories. I know one thing though: I’ll keep writing what I like to read. If no one else likes it, fine. I can live with that. After all, I’ve never expected more. Hoped, but never expected.