A writer records epistolary correspondences from him to his characters. They are released upon his death.
So for stupid dumb reasons that involve my inability to stop reading things on the internet I read Eron Gjoni’s long post/blog about his relationship with Zoe Quinn. I don’t define myself as part of the gaming community or particularly well-engaged in it (i.e. reading reviews, active in forums, having strong, well-constructed thoughts on possible sexism in games et al). Probably because I don’t have a lot of context or have not been invested in/aware of gamergate I largely ignored whatever the implications of the larger narrative were visa vis #GamerGate.
Ultimately what I felt was sad. Sad that people go through relationships like this. Sad because I don’t doubt that Zoe really and truly felt love for Eron. Sad all the more because she failed to show it. Sad in the way that I began to wonder and create paranoid fantasies that someone I get close to could do this to me.
There have been a lot of people who have come forward in the past year regarding manipulative relationships with online personalities: prominently in the YouTube community as well as recently in the alt-lit community so it’s just been on my radar more I suppose. I don’t have anything to add to it all but I wanted share this Kurt Vonnegut quote.
Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you’ve got a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies-God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.
A free art gallery showing is offered. The only stipulation is that the users cannot use/bring their cell phones. A group of paparazzi-esque photographers follow them throughout the gallery taking their pictures reacting to the art and the paparazzi themselves. The last exhibit is the patrons viewing those photos taken of them.
An author publishes, along with her completed book, all the terms she Googled for said book.
Recently was notified that a story of mine will be published by a magazine called “Workers Write!" Normally the names of literary magazines don’t tickle me but it happens that I was published, about two years ago, by another called "Workers Writes" and I’ve already had to tell people, actually it’s a different publication. The latter, sadly didn’t seem to last long (about three issues) and my story was seemingly of the last issue, though it should be noted their website still says they are accepting submissions.
I will of course, post the link to the new story when it’s up and you can read the old story, or any of my stories, at nathanielheely.com.
Heat maps of Magnus Carlsen’s chess games. Both his and his opponent’s squares are colored. Each square is given a “hotter” shade for how many different times the square is occupied. The starting squares are not counted.
Art exhibit of broken phone screens. The titles of each piece are the ways in which the phones were broken.
1. Dropped on Tile Floor
2. Driven over by a Chevy Blazer
3. Thrown at Fridge in Anger
She snorted. “Spoken like a Bolshevik. That’s not why I read. I’m sick to death of literature as medicine, literature as therapy, literature as politics, literature as the beacon of mankind. I couldn’t care what writers say about the so-called world. Why should they know more about it than I do? Does anyone really believe that a writer, by virtue of his profession, is honest or compassinate or even intelligent? Look at the lives of most writers, the best writers, they’re scoundrels and hypocrites. Start with Saint Leo. Why should his view on moral issues be instructive? And the proof of this is in the readers. Are they usually kinder than nonreaders? More moral? Are they more successful at life?”
"Peredelinko." Ken Kalfus.