So, not a week after P.O had to miss a fan meeting, some incredibly sensitive soul started a Twitter account called, “Block B Comeback?” And they just Tweet the word “No!” to you every–well, right now it looks like they’re on an every-four-hours schedule–until Block B gets off their fucking dumb lazy asses and gives you, The Center of the Universe, exactly what you want!!!
OK–here’s why I REALLY don’t like this:
But hey, the second novel came out in 2012–where’s the third and fourth book?
Do you want to know the answer? Are you sure? It’s really depressing!
My father died in 2009. My brother died (of a heart attack suffered while biking home from the gym) in 2013. In-between those two years, we discovered that my mother is suffering from memory loss and a number of cognitive problems related to aging (needless to say, these problems are not getting better and will never improve).
In addition to the obvious emotional trauma that one suffers when one’s immediate family is rapidly reduced from five members to two-and-half, the removal of three responsible adults from my family has created quite a burden on me. Why? Because my family had some pretty complicated financial affairs going on, and the people who were in charge of them are all either dead or no longer capable.
So, after we had a few expensive but highly educational interactions with some of the less-ethical businesspeople out there, I am now in charge. (My calling card: “I May Not Know What I’m Doing, But At Least I Don’t Steal.”)
I have been up-front about all this on my writing blog. I’m still writing, pretty much for the reasons I’ve always written–I’ll seriously go batshit if all I do for the rest of my life is talk to lawyers about what should go into Exhibit A-1 of that contract agreement. But of course I’m not as productive as I used to be.
For the most part I have been spared nagging from fans who are just going to diiiieeeee (from a heart attack while biking home from the gym?) if they don’t get my next book. Now.
But I’m not always spared.
It is very, very hard for me when I get a message from a fan asking when my next book is coming out. It puts me in a very difficult situation, because I don’t want to unload on a fan (can’t you read my fucking blog? don’t you have any real problems?), but I also don’t like to talk about this horrible period in my life and how it’s affected me. Plus, I’m not an idiot–if I simply tell the truth, it will seem like a rebuke.
So I tell them that there have been some very depressing family circumstances but that I am still planning to finish the series, and I thank them for their interest in my books. I point them to my Web site and my mailing list.
And I hope that they’ll still be around when the next book comes out–but if they’re not, that’s just the way things have to be. Option B for me is “sit around and watch while your family’s money gets stolen,” and I’ve already done that.
So this is why I don’t like it when people decide to ride someone when they don’t know what’s going on, and I really don’t like it when people know full fucking well what’s going on, but decide to be self-absorbed shitbirds anyway. Stuff like setting up a “Block B Comeback?” Twitter account might seem harmless enough, but it’s just feeding that part of fans’ minds that believes that getting the next [comeback, book, episode] of something they like is the most important thing on the entire fucking planet.
It is not. (Honestly, it makes me want to set up a “Is P.O’s mom still dead?” Twitter account that Tweets the word “Yes!” every fucking four hours.) I certainly realize that entertainment can be vital to keeping you sane when your life is going to shit. But even so, you have to have a sense of proportion: If your worst problem is that you might have to wait a little while for something you really enjoy, you are very fortunate indeed.