This is a sort of open letter to you.
It’s to you as the one who is reading this, and it’s to the collective you who have surprised and amazed me by popping by, once or again and again, even taking the time to actually follow me.
I am thrilled by you because a writer lives two lives in a way. There’s the usual life we all live, eating, meeting friends, shopping for the necessary and the frivolous, just living. And there’s the writing life, solitary, enmeshed in thoughts and emotions and in people and places that exist only in our minds. It is so very easy, as a writer, to neglect the real and emerse oneself in the fictional. It’s quieter there and it can all be controlled, up to a point anyway.
Alright, I don’t mean that writers are hermetic control freaks, though no doubt some are, but it can take you over if you let it.
It is you, the one who pops in and reads, who clicks to say you like something that I’ve done, or who says something about what it meant to you in a comment, that brightens my every day. It’s better than Facebook. ^_^
Perhaps it’s because I’m not one of these big-time authors who is used to attention or perhaps it’s just who I am, but for everyone who visits, when you stop by, I feel love.
So this letter to you is a sort of love letter. Please know that the love you give by visiting here is felt, and it goes back to you.