With my second year as a professional author completed, I was going to fill my blog with self advertising and self-worship. I kept putting it off however, as I still haven’t shaken the feeling that it’s a bit like prostituting myself. I used the recent arrival of my daughter as an excuse to procrastinate.
That is, until a few short days ago, when I read that an aspiring writer, with whom I had formed a bond of respect and virtual friendship in our online conversations, had passed away from cancer.
This hurt me more than I like to admit. Strangely enough, we had often discussed toxic masculinity. He was tortured by it, whilst I claim to have harnessed it and twisted it into my own advantage. In shock, I lay on the couch, phone in hand, and tried to collect myself. I tried to bury the grief away. I mean, he was only a friend online, only someone whom I respected as a name, an avatar, right?
Wrong.
Our conversations had always been respectful, and often either attempts to let the other heal, or to bring a smile to each other. We had mutual interests, belonged to the same fandom, and although his stories that he wished to craft may not have been in my vein, I was more than willing to work with him to help make his own dream of writing, possible.
Getting up, I found my eldest child, and asked him, almost tearfully, for a great big hug.
The truth is, the world is much smaller that it seemed only a few decades ago. Nowadays, I can connect with writers, readers, editors, publishers, agents, interviewers, fans, trolls, etc. In seconds. I’ve formed bonds with people all over the world, and though I haven’t met many face-to-face, I’ve chatted online privately, to the point that I feel comfortable saying things that I normally keep private. I’ve used the internet to have vocal conversations, avatar-to-avatar get-togethers, shared pictures and hopes and dream and trials and
These online souls have become friends, and the loss of one struck deeply in my breast.
To each of you who have touched my soul, please know you are: S
Unique
Wonderful
Inspiring.
And to the friend who passed, and left us without your blessed company
I miss you.