Warning: I’m writing this after having a Scofflaw and a Ward Eight cocktail at Gustav’s. Things might get a little unsettled.
So I’m new to Tumblr even though I’ve had an account for a long time. It looks excellent, and I see a lot of people here that I want to follow.
I write full time and I’m already doing the maths in my head. How exactly am I supposed to keep up on Facebook, and my blogs, and finish moving content over to my new (not yet live) responsive website (thank you, webmaster Doris Klein I <3 you so much!!!) AND finish the last book in The Poisoned Past trilogy AND write that story that I promised to write as part of an auction (the auction is done, congrats to reader Kathleen) to support LGBT Chechens trying to escape the new anti-gay pogrom in Chechnya plus so many other projects too numerous to mention ... and yes, my brain is ready to explode.
I write full time so I’m guessing, maybe wrongly, that I can do this. More importantly, I want to do this. I love to write, and there are times when I’ve posted something on Facebook and it might be fifteen or twenty minutes before someone comments. That’s a really long time when I’m fighting my way through a second draft and everything seems not-good-enough for my fans. It’s not that I need constant reassurance and support to write. I’d write even if I had zero reassurance and zero support.
But ... (check out this structure with the reoccurring buts!) my mind craves interaction. Television is not interaction. (Bless all that’s beautiful that I don’t have it.) Radio is not interaction. I love my cats, dogs, goats and garden, and that’s precious and real interaction, but I also crave human interaction. Humans can be horrible, and there are dire things (like the aforementioned situation in Chechnya) going on all the time where I wish humanity was different ... more kind ... more compassionate ... more tolerant ALL around ...
But ... (now I have two sets of ass cheeks with four lovely but(t)s) the majority of humanity is gloriously wonderful and endlessly fascinating. I love being a person and I love people. I love all the people, and it makes me sad when some of them hate me before they even know one thing about me. That has to be okay. They have a right to hate me, just like I have the right to love them even if they do hate me, also without knowing one damned thing about them. I love homo sapiens.
Check this out as I wrap this back around: During one of these dead times a few months ago, when I couldn’t continue on draft 2 without feeling compelled to drive a fork through my right eye, I did an ego search and found some fantastic art, right here on tumblr. It was of Cockatrice, a character that first appears in Oubliette. I’m super-extroverted until it comes to my work, and then when it comes time to say something to someone whose work I admire I turn into my six-year-old self that was painfully shy and I don’t want to “bother” this person even though I think his art is amazing. I realized that I wanted be here. I realized that there’s even more awesome humanity than I already knew about (there always is) and that it would be very much worth my while to spend some time here.
So here I am. Hi, I’m EM Prazeman, and I have no idea how Tumblr works. I’ve eaten an entire chocolate mousse dessert by myself in like three minutes, which includes breaks to write, here at Gustav’s after I’ve had two very nice, not-at-all-watered-down cocktails. I’m buzzed, high on chocolate, and I love you all. I’m very happy to be here. Thanks for reading.
