My friend Emerson (and he is a friend, though we live so far apart in time) lends reassurance across the years, this morning, via Emphatically Emerson, page 174. Writing in 1848, he says:
“Happy is he who looks only into his work to know if it will succeed, never into the times or public opinion; and who writes from the love of imparting certain thoughts and not from the necessity of sale — who writes always to the unknown friend.”
It could have been written this day expressly for me, the writer of books that few buy but some few treasure — or for you, regardless whether you write or blog or speak and regardless whether you have an audience.
Or, to paraphrase Henry Thoreau, “write not the times; write the eternities.”