"Haters Won't Stop Going On About My Product Pricing!"

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Dear Ross,

I’ve never felt so hurt and disappointed in my whole entire life.

All I wanted was to create a nice thing - A REALLY NICE THING WITH ROSE GOLD FOIL AND GLITTER SACHETS AND ONE (1) POMPOM  - for my loyal fans. I poured my heart and soul into it - AS I DO ALL MY PRODUCTS FROM START TO FINISH IT PEOPLE CAN SAY WHAT THEY LIKE IT ISN’T JUST ABOUT THE MONEY IT’S THE PROCESS I LOVE THE PROCESS - only now I’m being attacked and bullied by a load of old-school nobodies who don’t get me and are, frankly, just plain jealous.

Christmas is my favourite time of year but all this drama is making my anxiety - YES, I HAVE ANXIETY - a million times worse. I’m in such a state I’ve not even got round to decorating my fourth tree, and there’s literally barely over a month left. My life isn’t as easy as it looks and I wish people would realise it takes a lot of work and effort to get up and do what I do three times a fortnight. 

And besides, as if I was the one who decided to make the fucking thing £50?

Yours,
Anxious Girl On the Internet

 
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Oh Anxious Girl On the Internet - I feel for you. I really do.

For every creator, there are at least sixteen miserly talent vacuums looking to tear stuff down rather than build it themselves. Why, I remember the stony expressions on the faces of my peers at the opening and technically only night of my 2003 play, About a Badger. 

“But we were told we had to do monologues,” they griped. “How come he got props?” Well more fool you for following instructions, dickheads. Think outside the box once in a while and you too might get a 3/5 review in the local Evening News.

Anxious Girl Online, in which creative field you currently graze I’m not entirely sure (from some subtle hints in your letter I’m thinking part-time flower arranging?), but one thing is certain: you must nurture and treasure your artistry as you would a sickly, temperamental child. Jack your blood pressure up on a tub of Ben & Jerry’s finest, scrawl your ideas down nearest wall and listen not to the naysayers. You are precious and you are beautiful. Just like the titular beast in my 2003 play, About a Badger.

But Anxious Girl Online, I can’t help but detect a jarring note in your defensive lines. This is your product, one you have ushered from inception through to launch. Your vision, your art, blah blah blah. And yet you also casually shrug responsibility for the not-insignificant detail of how it is priced and sold.

Perhaps you are currently without PR representation. Perhaps you suffer from particular amnesia around the workings of recommended retail pricing. Either way, this cannot do. 

You may indeed be a dreamy, ineffectual dilletante; prone to fitful outbursts of simpered regret when things don’t go your way. Preyed upon at every turn by a cold cruel world, forced to suffer through endless droning by room upon room of faceless suits when all you’d really like to do is nap under a duvet of artfully wilted petals...  If that’s truly your shtick, then go for it. Your fans will embrace your foibles and drown you in heartfelt, emoji-laden missives, at least until they themselves grow the fuck up. 

But I think you’re better than that, Anxious Girl Online.

I can smell the rage in your letter. It leaks out of every blotched hyphen and overly indented full stop. You may be familiar with Sheryl Sandburg’s book, Lean In? Personally, I have never read it. Bear with me.

You must lean in to your chosen destiny, Anxious Girl Online. No you most definitely are not doing that already. You’re sat on the fence, straddling two perilously unstable stools, and your brand is one weak leg away from total collapse. That is almost certainly something Sheryl Sandburg would say. 

Lean in, Anxious Girl Online. And to one of but two choices: wafting drearily on, super-cuting your way into yesterday’s news; or kickstarting the mass-production of a new deluxe fan limited ('limited') edition £800 bouquet. Available for a limited time only. Payable in installments.

Of COURSE you priced your own product. How DARE your critics seek to question the worth of your embossed name. So WHAT if your motivation is lining the walls of your gold vault, or sticking it to that BITCH Fiona who once made you feel less than you most surely are. Hold that flimsy bouquet aloft and be PROUD that idiots across the country are buying it in mindless droves. 

You know which path your future lies, Anxious Girl Online. You knew it well before that meagre bag of glitter first caught your conniving eye. Now lean in, get that fourth tree out your goddamn attic and set the fucking thing on fire. Dance.

There. You are reborn. You are cleansed. You are Angry Successful Businesswoman with Great Hair and Bad Attitude On the Internet AND THEY WILL ALL SUFFER FOR WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO YOU.

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