I’ve been writing here for over two years, and let me just mention a couple of things that I’ve learned (and no, I’m not going to be launching into the whole Behind the Scenes as Helena bit just yet… this is just an observation).
Given the choice, I think you prefer tears over laughter.
You want to read about train wrecks and child abuse, rape and abandonment — and about the survival of those things. I don’t know if it’s a desire to nurture, or to just see hope — but I have to wonder if some of it isn’t good old fashioned morbid rubbernecking. To be able to look at the car crash and be glad it isn’t you.
Of course, some of it is solidarity — sharing stories and bonding over trauma. I get that.
I can make you cry, if that’s what you want. I can drudge up all the horrible things, tell you about abuse, tell you about tears and depression and suicide attempts. I could start a whole new blog just telling terrible stories of my childhood.
Instead, I choose to try to make you laugh. I write silly things — ridiculous things — that ultimately go unnoticed, except by two or three people who are hooked.
This is a post about frustration and anxiety — it’s been a while, darlings, but I figured I was due.
I was about to launch into a whinge that had to do with gender relations, but I don’t have the heart to shoot myself in the head by shooting my audience, such as it is. Thank Al Gore for the backspace key, amirite?
I don’t wan’t to relive all the train wrecks of my life for you. It’s why I prefer to write fiction. It’s why I mixed reality with fiction — to take the sting off.
Some of you get it, and I thank you. Some of you don’t know what to make of me, because I’m not doing what everyone else is doing. It’s like you’ve gone to the grocery store to buy vegetables, and suddenly there’s a saxamaphone (yes, that’s how you say it) where the eggplants should be.
(You know, the phrase ‘pick up that saxamaphone and blow me’ just popped into my head, and while I realize it sounds aggressive I just started laughing at it and thought you should at least have the opportunity to laugh, too.)
I’ve made you laugh. I’ve made you cry. I’ve given you the heebie-jeebies.
I’m going to try to come back to maintaining the blog, writing more often, even if it’s just quick snippets here and there — vignettes, etc.
But I need to know — do you even want me back? Or, now that the Genie’s out of the box, are you bored with me? Is what you really want is for me to give you all of my dirt? To share all my secrets with you? Or am I being vain and ridiculous (and not in a good ridiculous way)?
I’m going to stop now before I get maudlin.