A Pox Upon Scams

Regrettably, my overambitious yet entirely on brand for iratic Schizoaffective/Bipolar overcommitment slashed with catatonic depression, personal disaster and decking the halls, “Hollywood Hedgewitch” as a video project took a wee break. Exhibit part #240 of how chronic illness unpredictability keeps me permanently unemployable.

Six months later, now that my marriage is saved and I am feeling creative again, I am thinking about resuming it. We’ll see.

“Time has a way of working these things out.”

The Royals on E!

Today’s heartbreaking attempt to build out a domain I thought I owned, being as I just received a WHOSIS email about it, led me to google WordPress scams and it all came clear. The Internet is as corrupt and untrustworthy as the humans that created it. This portfolio site has held up, and for that I am extremely thankful.

It’s really hard to clear up all those trust issues when people keep pulling these dangerous scams. Reconfirming to me once and for all that while there are a few great loyal people in my life, there are also many scammers out there who would harvest every drop of personal information they can glean from my selective specificity in creative nonfiction for nefarious acts.

Trust no one.”

That includes death threat scams, whether from bounty hunters or impersonators of ancient cults, robocall scams, other people’s lawyers seeking to sue me, etc… All that rather nasty stuff that comes with rising of profile.

Fame is a Prison

Lady Gaga

Although the death threats took ovaries of steel and acute agoraphobic shutdown, nevertheless I persist. It’s not like I need or want to go outside or have normal interpersonal interactions beyond the select few who have proven themselves.

Unscrupulous data harvesting and weaponizing of data motivated me to shut down this sweatshop of one for a few difficult months. Especially as it is, in a sense, philanthropy. I don’t see freelance paychecks from any of my creativity. I don’t have assistants,/agents/PR people, any of it. Web hosting and other fees come from my SSDI Disability check.

Suing me for fantasy funds because I put up a good smoke and mirrors show will not yield much but a few doilies and refuse of dead arts. Did you really want to go to all that trouble for a pile of books and records?

Besides, what did I do? Why are you angry? Who am I even talking to? I’m a bit in the dark here. Perhaps Schizoaffective paranoia, but a lot of receipts have been piling up.

So let’s just not go there. I much prefer working things out amicably. Which to my knowledge is already done with the issues I am aware of. Please let me know personally remotely in print if anyone has further legitimate legal issues and we’ll work it out.

If you just want me dead? Don’t expect me to pay you to prevent it. Some bounty hunters already tried that.

I don’t like to flex, yet I am not as vulnerable or helpless as my literary persona may appear. Information asymmetry is a tool of modern warfare, my attorney father schooled me well. The other arrows in my quiver I hold close to to my chest hoping to never have to use them.

Now back to regularly unscheduled unplaced writing, kittens, unicorns and bunnies.

“Hollywood Hedgewitch” is a video project

Check out the full novel reading playlist on Youtube here. I’ll be adding to it over time until the whole book is on there.

Publishing is ableist AF. I want people to hear my stories. Read my unpublished manuscripts by whatever medium. I fully admit they’re not good enough for the gatekeepers I tried to publish them with for so many years. I am too mentally ill to be able to handle the financial complications of self-publishing. Or afford the initial financial outlay.

This is my last resort. Giving my books away for free by performing them. Think of it as bedtime stories for cynical adults. Disabled people do contribute, and our lives are valuable either way.

Please do not put me in an institution. Or euthanize me. Or take away my SSDI I paid into for 10 grueling years. Just because I can sit inside on a computer for a decade and write things no one wants to publish does not mean I can work any job. Neither does rudimentary iMovie video editing. Twelve year olds these days know how to do that now a days. We have tween Martin Scorcese’s all over TikTok.

Please just watch and enjoy the serial novels I feel compelled to put into the world.

I’m here, I’m queer, I’m doing a blog again

For all that I enjoy Twitter? Given another election is coming up, I no longer feel strong enough. After 2016 to fight the good fight against Russian troll bot farms, writers who’s career path is different then my odd disabled savant polymath failure one. Had a hot flash stress nightmare last night of how inferior I was for not having a PhD? This is Reno, no one goes to college. I must get real. Reprioritize.

I just got bi lesbian married for what is to me the second time because of my domestic partnership, and to the state of Nevada the first time. So sayeth the country clerk. Here we are:

2019 was a big year. I got married to someone I loved. I finally met some other Renoites. It’s that ten year anniversary of my last two books. Telling me to lay off trying to writing or trying to publish more books as I’m past my prime, mediocre, and must pass the torch to the young. Escalation of my Disability to physical as well as severely mental. Complete abdication and disappearance from the world except for Internet nudity and flashes of text.

Now I would like to relax, reassess, and actually enjoy and get into writing for pleasure and therapy again, which were always the bigger focus for me as no money made.

I’m tired of gate keeping. The innate failure of all small presses. More magazines then readers. Not being able to be nomadic, essenyial fo career writers. Never knowing the proper lingo or procedure for “real” achievements because I’ve been Disabled and out of society for so long I can barely function and how dare I do anything anyway. I rarely do and rarely can, obviously.

One of my cats, Betty Illuminati.

I’m not going to pull a Bill Hicok and bemoan the changing tide or diversity rising. Poetry is a lesser focus for me. Others do it better. I’m a severely disabled queer not all white woman who is middle aged and exhausted from “the discourse”, and what little I knew of public writer life. I’m doing this blog to take a step away.