No Proscenium

Your Guide To Immersive Events & Adventures

The Guide To Immersive Entertainment

Write like no one is reading...

It is a truth universally acknowledged that very few people read my shit.

Oh, sure, the radio pieces get heard by millions, but I don't have the metrics on those.

I have the metrics on this, and on the day job, and let me tell you: if you are reading this you are part of a very, very exclusive club.

I could probably have all of you over to my house for brunch.

Actually, that might have happened once.

So to answer a question from Wednesday as to whether I spelled Wednesday as "Wedensday" on purpose or not the answer is: coffee. Lack of coffee and the fact that Squarespace and spell check in Safari are not compatible.

Sometimes I'm just hot to get the thoughts out and into the ether and I compose in the Markdown window of Squarespace. It's like writing with the safeties off. Toss in my penchant for excellent reading comprehension skills that manage to overlook the Internet's vast amount of typos and we get to meet Wedensday-- the day Wotan shacked up with an illiterate Roman hearth goddess.

This here? Anything with the #MorningMatter tag is for me. All y'all are just along for the ride.

Sooch over, willya, the back seat only fits so many.

FUN FACT: typos online don't bug me at all, whether they're on Slashfilm, i09, Talking Points Memo or the gorram New York Times. I've got no grammar nazi bones in cyberspace. Show me one in a printed book and I will lose my shit the way I lose my shit over dead air on the radio. Especially if I find said typo in a book by someone who makes side cash as a writing guru.

It's the printed page, damnit, respect the trees! Ewoks died so you could shovel that crap into Barnes & Noble.

[While I was typing this I watched my shirtless, pj wearing neighbor tiptoe along the driveway carrying a sack of kitchen garbage. Poor bastard didn't realize that yesterday was garbage day. Ha! He looked ridiculous, and then he dashed into the driveway next door and chucked his trash into the their bin. Jerk. Pasty, hairless, ab-having jerk. I dub thee NEMESIS TRASH-SNEAKER.]

[When I care enough to think something might get linked I compose in Ulysses III, my go-to Markdown writing software. Man, do I love collecting writing software. If only I knew how to type.]

[Final Aside: it occured to me yesterday while reading The World of Ice & Fire that I was never going to be part of an epic romance. Or if I was, I let her move to Canada and marry another dude without ever admitting how I felt and only pieced together that she probably requited my feelings after the fact. Also: I'm never going to get to ride a dragon. Ain't got the blood of Old Valyria.]