I would be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked when I first
discovered - through looking at my website analytics - that someone I know had
taken the time and effort to track my online footprint to find my pseudonymous
and anonymous internet spaces.
Yes, I know when this happened. Yes, I was unsettled by
it. But here's the thing: if I didn't want people to be reading this, it
wouldn't be on the internet.
Like all good information professionals, I understand
enough technical detail about how the internet works to know there is no such
thing as real anonymity out here. I've known that for as long as I've been
online. So there is nothing about my online behaviour - ever - that doesn't
withstand scrutiny.
So read, or read not. It is all the same to me. I will not be constrained by your gaze. This is my space, and I will write what I damn well like.
Because that’s what I do: I write. I write both fiction and non-fiction. I write because I understand people. I'm observant, and I'm perceptive. I have a very finely tuned sense for truth. Even though I am proficient in word play, in the writerly art of the partial reveal, the masterful red herring, and a thousand other methods of clever subtext, I am far more interested in authenticity. And although I understand the seductive power of sharing meaning by implying but not stating it, I place a much higher value on candour.
Most of all, I value the rare and true courage of honesty.
If
you understand that, you’ll know it’s a prerequisite for any kind of meaningful
interaction with me. And if you don’t, no amount of reading about me on the
internet will get you anywhere.
