I have a number of ways to describe what I do.

Sometimes I’m simply a writer. Other times, I like to get a bit more creative. I could be a creativist, or an imaginarian, or possibly just a fabulist or a make-it-up-as-he-goes-along-ologist.

But lately, I’ve begun to think of another way to describe myself. I’m feeling like I may design a new business card, and emblazon two words on the front – underappreciated genius.

Because more and more, this is how I (in my infinite wisdom and unfailing modesty) am coming to see myself.

The first word is unarguably true. The stasis in my current writing career (if you could call even call it a career), encompassing both ebook sales and responses from publishers is clear evidence. The second word may be open to dispute. But if I didn’t try to convince myself, what other reason would I have to keep going.

The more I hone the craft of being an underappreciated genius, the more I realise it’s actually really hard work.

Again, I can break it down into those two words. This time I might start with the second one.

You’ve got to work at being a genius. It doesn’t just happen. Well actually, for some people it may just happen. I’m sure some people are born geniuses, but the rest of us have to spend time and energy to attain such status. My brain is constantly working. Trying to figure out new stories. Trying to write the stories I’ve just thought about. Trying to make the stories I’ve just written after previously thinking about them into something really shiny and special. It just never ends, I can tell you. The pressure to keep being a genius regularly keeps me awake at night.

Then there’s the other component. The underappreciated bit. I reckon this is the bit that’s even harder. That’s the one where you check your book sales and find not a sausage. The one where you check email to see if you’ve heard from that publisher who must surely love the little slice of genius you sent them earlier in the day, and find an empty inbox. Even the one where you check your Twitter feed after posting another tweet of great insight and brilliance, and find maybe 1 or 2 likes if you’re lucky.

Yes, being an underappreciated genius surely is tough and challenging work. Sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth it. But hey, if I’ve already claimed the title for myself, I really should do everything I can to live up to it.

After all, I’d hate to be considered a failure.