Oh, Psycho...

One of my favorite characters to write, I'll be honest. Psycho, the character had it all. She was strangely insightful, tortured, and pathetic. Ultimately, however, it was impossible to hope that the real-life version of her was anything but crazy. I find it a bit of a shame that I have lost contact with the inspiration for that somewhat uplifting, complicated character, but a weight has at last been lifted from my chest. You see, here's the thing about people like Psycho, who I will refer to not by her real name, but rather by her alias from here on out. Kat Parker, I think you need a great deal of help, and sadly you will never seek it. Not until it's too late, at least. I will admit that it's very likely that I exploited you, but not without reason. In my own naive way, I suppose that I hoped you would see the message contained in the pages of The Graceless, and that I was rooting for you to power through your own illness and psychosis. A futile and wasted hope I see. And thus we pack up and move on. I am now ready to bury that portion of my past. Thank you very much for opening my eyes to the mistakes I once made, and I think you could use a good few kicks in the head yourself. But alas, it is not my place to say.

In other news, I have begun work on my new novel, Bliss, a love letter to surrealist writers and my current fan base, small as it may be. I wonder if Bliss will actually succeed in translating its message more than The Graceless. But I suppose there's only one way to find out. I almost regret giving the unbalanced Ms. Parker credit for helping me write The Graceless, but I think it would be petty and selfish do deny her that. No, she truly does deserve the credit for the creation of the character of Emily, and the real crime here is that she doesn't see past the similarities between herself and the character. She's so absorbed by the negative aspects of her own personality that had become so deeply ingrained in Emily, that she does not see just how much positive was soaked into the character.

Again, I cannot mourn for the ignorant all day. It would wear me out far too much. However, I must make a small distinction between myself and some of those who I have come to know in my day. I'm not a hero. I make no effort to save people through my writing. I just want to bring to light some of the things that I've seen in people who I know that they seem to always miss. Few things, after all, are more dangerous than a man who wants to change the world. I just want to start a spark of thought. And if that's too ambitious, I suppose I'll burn for it.

Thanks for your time.

This is Rosenbloom, signing out.