I realize you might be distrustful since the occasion of my April Fools’ joke, but this time, peeps, I am not messing with your mind.
Remember a while back when I yearned to try something scary, exciting, and expansive with my writing? Do you remember how I tipped into action because of a vacuum and the Boop? No?
That’s okay. What’s important for today’s purposes is the result. How’s this for specificity?
Uh-huh. Like my orange-goggled avatar in the sidebar, that trim, young female is another not-me.
She does manage, nonetheless, to capture my present state of bliss, amazement, and how-did-I-ever-imagine-I-could-hang-with-the-big-kids?-idness.
The occasion? Therese Walsh and Kathleen Bolton have placed their faith in me and invited me to join Writer Unboxed as the current voice of the unpublished.
Odd thing, that — to strive for a position you hope will become an ill-fitting one so soon. 😉
I think it’s Dorothea Brande who said writers alternate between self-derisive and messianic tendencies. Let me just say I have spent the better part of the day looking at the list of names on WU, and wondering how I’ve managed to share pixel-space with them.
I’ve read many of the other contestants’ comments, sussed out some of their blogs. I’m truly humbled to be in such auspicious company.
While I hope to do the position proud, you’ll pardon me, I’m sure, if I’m not exactly aiming for ten years of tenure. 😉
ETA: I’ll be posting the third Monday of the month, beginning in May. I hope those of you who know me from this place will come visit!