Bye, blog

I loved you for many, many, many years. But I don't need you any more. That's a good thing.

I'm very glad I had you, though. Not just in the moment but now, afterwards, when I can randomly look back and see, in vivid color, whole chunks of my life and mind and heart. I wish I still had the impulse to record all those bits of life, because it's such a very valuable document to me. But I think the impulse came from being in a fundamentally unhappy place, where I wasn't able or willing to express myself or articulate what was in me, except in this form. So I'll hope I never need you again.

I'll leave you up for a while, at least. People often follow ancient links to old posts here. Might as well give them an explanation as to why they'll not get to read about my problems with Diana Gabaldon's later books or my love of Laura Kinsale or how there is such a thing as shitty fucking writing and it's NOT A MATTER OF TASTE OH MY GOD YOU NAMBY PAMBY BULLSHITTING PHILISTINES. Sorry these random strangers are destined to be deprived of my long-form thoughts on these matters, but it's really for the best. I have a career to think of. Amazingly enough. I really do.

So long, y'all. You made me very, very happy.