In an earlier post, I was too hard on the app Inkvite for the aims and goals of some of its users. I don’t think I was clear enough in my meaning, and I want to apologize.
Inkvite is still the best app for creative writing you can find. There’s no contest.
My issue is that I’m a crotchety old thirty-something who didn’t grow up with internet communities like YouTube and Facebook, and I never placed any value on likes and followers and subscribers. This Gen-Y/Millennial crowd, whatever you want to call them, has grown up in a different world, and that’s not really anyone’s fault.
I love Inkvite, and I want it to succeed and flourish among real writers. I just believe that true creative skill, and the confidence that fuels the all-important ACT of writing, doesn’t come from contests and votes and followers. All of that can blow away in a twinkling. When I need to write, but I have no keyboards or paper to write on, I get a stick and scribble in the dirt. I don’t care that no one will see it; the urge is just there.
I’m not sure that the children of the Attention Age, the age of Cranked-out Content, know what that means. Or maybe I’m being myopic. Perhaps I’m only witnessing the creative world as it turns through another cycle of millions.
I wonder about Cervantes, a man who wrote masterpieces and then died without a penny. Did he fret that his plays weren’t successful, that his family was falling apart, and that lords called him the worst poet alive? Or did he ignore all that and just keep writing? Would most of the users of Inkvite ignore all that and just keep writing?
Whether they would or not, I love Inkvite, and I know there are plenty of others who love it too. May it continue to find success.