O! Come here, reader, I want to make you cry-
There was a time when I kept every idea to myself for months upon months, because obviously it was my best ever - something meant to be held prisoner in the warmth and darkness of my own head until the time at which it reached absolute perfection and was ready to be shown to the world, which surely would love me for it.
-want to make you laugh and sob, want to kill you with your own emotions-
That time, of course, never came. In fact, rarely did any storyline even leave my brain to alight on paper. The ideas fed off one other like animals- each new one replacing its predecessor before it had grown to maturity, in a long succession of unrealized tales.
-you can't stop it, so help it along-
Therefore I came to the conclusion that ideas should best be shared with the world before one loses interest in them.
In other words, no more of this not-posting-it-online-until-it's-perfect crap.
Guess what? We're going to outer space. We're going to the ends of time. We're going to places at the edges of imagining, where ordinary people do terrible things and empires rise and fall.
-and read ead-
Are you coming?
-and if you know what's good for you, you won't ever stop.