Here I am, this is me, being a writer… writing things down as it were. “If no one ever reads what you write, can you really call yourself a writer?” is the question that I keep pounding myself into the ground with. So here it is, my answer to that question: new year, new website (where I’m actually going to write things, and share bits of what I’m working on), new fears, new traumas, new stories, and new scripts.
Let’s start off with three things it might (but probably won’t) help you to know about me:
1. I love reading stranger’s failed blogging experiments. There is something about reading 10-20 posts someone has written scattered across a year or two that really gets my blood pumping – especially if the last post is more than a year old.
2. I listen to way too much public radio. It is a problem and I’m trying to detox. CBC radio 1 is my drug of choice; I can (and have) spent an entire day actively listening. Just sitting, and listening. I’m currently using Songza’s SongzaSounds as a kind of ear methadone. My current favourite is In a Busy Coffee Shop.
3. I, a 26-year-old woman, own two gerbils and love them. Which, if you had told me was going to happen up to and including the day I got them, I would have laughed in your face.
Well, that’s me in a blog shaped nutshell. So, prepare yourself for many unnecessary disclosure markers and other grammatical liberties – yeah, I’m THAT kind of writer.