That writer, the one you loved so much when you were twelve? Or twenty-eight? Or forty? The one from whom you bought every new release? Whatever happened to him/her? They seem to fall off the face of the earth.
Three of weeks ago when I was very sick and running a fever, I decided to clean out my Twitter account. Over fifty writers I followed at the beginning of my career in 2011 have disappeared. These include both trad published and indie published folks.
In the case of most trad writers, their publisher dropped their contracts. A few stated that they also publish as "So-and-So" in "Such-and-Such" genre and "Here's the link", but most don't even give that slight acknowledgment.
Some, both trad and indie, quite literally disappeared. Their websites no longer exist. Others still have their books for sale, but nothing new had been published since 2012 or 2013, and neither their websites nor their blogs/Twitter/Facebook/etc. have been updated since then either.
There's no explanation. Nothing. Nada.
I don't know if they died. Or got burned out. Or if simply life got in the way.
It makes me a little sad. Such wonderful voices that made me happy, never to be heard from again.
On Not Writing
4 hours ago