The other day on Facebook, I posted:

Me: *writes a thing * Ahhh… I love my career. I get to make up stories. It’s lovely.

Also me: *visits Author Twitter* Holy crap, Writerland is a cesspool of opinions from privileged tools who think they know everything!

Also also me: *goes back to my aliens* Ahhh, writing is lovely.

Now, I know a ton of amazing, friendly, and encouraging authors on social media, especially Twitter. But I’m not sure if it’s just that I’m at the stage of my career where the “rose-coloured lenses” are off, and I’m able to perceive the ugly side of the industry a bit more.

I published my first novel at 47, so you might say I arrived late to the party. Or later than most. It was thrilling, and I felt so enthusiastic to enter the realm of published authors, to attend conferences, gain new…