Where does this intolerable hatred of me come from? Did I wrong you in another life?
Of course, unlike the bastard Will Scarlet to the American accented Robin Hood, I have to no relationship with the hater, real or imagined. Well, at least not in my life. Apparently in their world, me and mine represent all that it is evil, engendering a loathing so fierce that when people are ready to let it slide back into the muddy stinkhole from which it emerged, they have to stir it up again. It's the same old song, every time, which is not only untrue, it creates a vicious cycle, where if you publicly contest it, you're a defensive liar, and if you say nothing, well then, they must be right, right?
So, sometimes I have to look at the two people at whom even the worst of our detractors are starting to look and tilt their heads and say, huh, how come it's always the same people and the same story? I don't know you. If I did, I wouldn't have the time of day for you, as you're obviously terribly unhappy. As far as I know, I didn't even know you back in the day before all this started. So, um, how can you hate me?
Most days I can let it go. Most days I do, because y'all have no idea how much we have to deal with every day. Today it's harder, because I'm reminded that it's not just the haters that buy into the downright bullshit. It's people I know, people I have broken bread with, people who have done more harm trying to "help" than they can ever know. That's when it's the toughest to let it go, when it all piles on top of that one person who ought to know better.
I'm trying hard to find positive, and right now that positive is that despite the assholes, despite the sucktastic economy, and despite the people who claim we never show any growth, I'm paying more authors more money than any previous quarter, we're getting reviews from places like the ALA newsletter and we're hiring more editors and proofers to improve all the time.
*puts on a Halloween movie and sits down to write* time to get back to work