In the End, Thank You.
Blogging has been a curious distraction, sometimes beautiful, occasionally ugly, always interesting. It’s been a sequestered experiment of sorts — in the one ivory tower available to all — no pedigree or academically-sanctioned talent required. Largely faceless, partially nameless, with only my thoughts and words as a calling card, I wondered — could I find readers? If I did, would I find other opportunities?
A couple of weeks ago, I sat down to write a brief bio to include with a submission to a literary magazine, and found myself unexpectedly choking on an overfull, ragtag life that lacked any appreciable merit. A blog is not a book, and a smattering of old pieces published in largely defunct magazines is not a qualification. It takes only a title, celebrity, or the desire to write for free to get published on the Huffington Post, and I fell into the least prestigious category — the kind that gets buried every time Jamie Leigh Curtis writes about economic woes.
I lack a name, but I am filled with passion. It’s not always a good trait. Sometimes it’s alienating or comes across as arrogance, but most people know that if they need help, I’ll do everything I can to help them. They also know that if there’s a wrong person to fall in love with, I’ll find her and I’ll make an absolute fool of myself trying to win her over. I also have no passion for money, which doesn’t really matter because I don’t have any — but I’m also frugal, which is good because as a writer, I have to be.
It was passion, in part, that led me to become an avid reader and autodidact. Circumstances being what they were, I dropped out of school in 8th grade, left home at 16, and became a single mother. After 14 years on the lower white-collar rungs of corporate marketing, I became a blue collar worker. A working class lesbian who spent years of nights furiously writing and licking stamps, eventually collecting as many rejection slips as stories.
A girl who began working full-time at 13 — who’s since had 42 jobs in four states and countless cities – is bound to have a lot of stories. But would anyone want to hear them? Could I tell the truth of my life and find interested readers?
Yes, I discovered, I could. Sometimes in spurts, twice in droves, often just wandering in from somewhere else. Some stayed awhile, others left, and still others remained fiercely loyal, sticking with me through dry spells, boring stories, and minor obsessions.
Forgive me for rambling, this is difficult. Let me get to the point. My 47th birthday recently happened, I’m not gainfully employed, and my biography is full of holes. I have a tumor in my neck, I live in a place I hate, there’s a hundred broken things that need to be fixed, and there’s a painfully brutal realization I’ve been trying my best to avoid — but all I want to do, all I need to do right now, is sit down and write a love letter to you.
I want to thank every person who ever read my work, and everyone who took the time to comment. I want to thank those of you that have given parts of yourself to my stories and to me personally. I want to thank you for every encouraging comment, every story you told in kind, every letter and gift you ever sent on the sly. I want to thank you for your warm wishes, your love of words, your patience, and your compassion. I want to thank you for not running from my truth, or for discounting me as someone who was below you in class, talent, or circumstance. I want to thank you for giving me the things I don’t often get in “real life” and for fulfilling my need to be accepted, somewhere, even if in the often surreal space of the internet.
I want to thank you for making me want to be a better writer, and for giving me the belief that what I wrote mattered, to you or to someone you knew. I want to thank you for shoring up my damaged heart and frail ego with your kindness and compassion. For being a better family to me than my own family ever was. For giving me hope that people like you really do exist. For giving me hope, even if it’s sometimes painful or unrealistic. I want to thank those who kept my confidences and shared my secrets, and those who didn’t laugh at me when I dreamed too big, hoped too much, and got overly excited about things that ended up being of little consequence at all.
I want to thank you for your silence when it told me something I needed to know, and for letting me know when it was just silence and nothing to worry about. I want to thank you for your gentleness, your honesty, your strength, and for not being the kind of readers that care about popularity.
In closing this site and ending this experiment, I just want to say thank you, and let you know how very deeply grateful, humbled, and appreciative I have been.
Jane,
I hope this is an April Fool’s joke. I depend upon you to make me think on things I’d never think of on my own.
You are far more important to many of us than you can imagine or know. Please don’t leave me. Please keep striving to be who you are meant to be. Be depressed at not being where you thought you should be at 47. God knows I’m not where I think I should be at 57. But don’t let the turkeys (others) get you down. Your voice, irritation, anger, humor, and being down are needed by some of us and that should count for something.
Don’t give up the site. *I* need you.
marcie
Jane, please don’t go.
And thank you, Jane.
I have not been a hardcore follower of yours but ever since I was introduced to you, I have truly enjoyed my time over here in YOUR space. Always thoughtful, always smart, always unique. I love your line about the ivory tower up there - so true.
Are you really really leaving? Really? It seems very sad if you are. But of course I would understand. I always have one foot stepping out of this scene every single day.
If this is truly the end, thank you for sharing yourself with us. And good luck on your journey. But if it’s not the end, I’ll see you again soon!
This made me cry. Something, I’m embarrassed to admit, that can be difficult to do. I’ll miss you. I need mentors, and am losing a virtual example of excellence. My eyes and ears will remain open to any hint of your presence. All the best to you, Jane. xo, Chris
Oh Jane, even if you didn’t start out for this to be an April Fools Joke, please change your mind and say it was! I would miss you more than you could ever imagine! Please don’t go!
You have a tumor in your neck? I do remember you talking of going for tests, but I don’t remember you saying you had a tumor. Is it malignant? None of my business, I know. But, I feel like I know you, and I care about you and this worries me. Don’t answer if you don’t want too. I understand.
Like others who have already replied, I love coming here and I will miss you terribly. However, You have to do what is right for you, and what will be healthiest for you physically, emotionally and spiritually. You need to heal your tumor, and I know you can. I am going through my own crisis right now and a wise friend told me I had to do what is best for myself, and not what is best for others. I pass that on to you. Do what is best for you, not for others, and have no guilt about it.
I really hope what you are planning to do is direct your energies to a novel. I sense that is where your heart’s desire is. You are a great writer, with great stories and yes, there is an audience for them. I really hope for you that your deepest desires come true and you wind up in the room of your dreams on Paradise Island. Enjoy your new grandbaby, and your children.
Be Well, My Friend!
Your words and thoughts and experiences were a gift we all benefited from. So yes, thank YOU.
No, I haven’t been the places you’ve been. I’ve been on the receiving end of many good things, good fortune, and the love of good people. But 47 does bring its own reckoning. There are many days I when I wonder exactly what it is I’ve done with the last 20 years of my life, what I’ve accomplished with the opportunities and life I’ve been given. Sometimes blogging seems like an act of rebellion and sometimes it feels like an act of desperation. It has introduced me to passionate, interesting, and talented people but it has also shown me how little the people I know in real life care about what goes on in my head, how much some of my loved ones want to keep me two-dimensional and “easy.”
I will miss you. Here and elsewhere. Miss not just your brilliant writing and incisive thinking but your voice but what it has come to represent to me. Godspeed…
Jane, I can’t believe I found myself checking in on your blog after not being around for so long, to find this is your last one.
Funny how I just assumed you would always be here.
I so regret now not maintaining my former status of a faithful reader and participant of your “experiment”.
You are truly a beautiful soul, with an amazing gift. Thank you for giving myself and many others a place to come together, and for sharing so much of yourself with us.
Go get better. Take care of your health, and write that book. Do it Jane!
hoping this is an april fools story. to me you are a breath of fresh air. i shall be visualizing you healthy and strong. i have enjoyed the way you write and what you write. there is an honesty in your words
and i at times have felt your pain - and have been amazed at the way you survived and even amazed that you have indeed survived. while i am selfishly saddened that you will be on a new adventure.
you must and should do what is right for YOU. we all will be here should you need or want to revisit. i trust you WILL keep writing - wether you publish or not. jane must write write write - for herself first
and then - well time will tell. know we ARE here and missing you and your words. do what you must. be safe be well. viya con dios ms jane.
may you always walk in peace - love and beauty…palestar in santa fe…
I cried as I read this to my husband. And, yes I read blogs to my family. My husband was so upset with me being upset and because he always loved hearing what I had to say about Jane. Jane, we will miss you. I hope you are taking care of yourself and moving on the path you see yourself attaining.
We will miss you. But we’re SO worried.
Carol Lynn
I’m putting money on your return … you may change your look, angle, perspective, or approach … but you’ll be back. You have a strong desire to be heard. It’ll bring you back, Jane.
I too hope this is an April Fools joke but sadly I fear it truly is your good bye to us. I will miss your humor, wit, and wisdom. I hope you stay in touch though. I probably have said this before but growing up I always longed for a sister to confide joys, sorrows, and everyday crazy crap that happens. Never having a sister to share these things with has driven me to want to have friendships, especially with wise women like you that I admire. So even though we may be “virtual” friends and have never met face to face I do really value you and will miss being able to come to your site and see what new story you have written or what is happening in your life. Be well Jane. Remove that Hilda from your neck and live joyfully and healthfully!
I can so relate to how you’re feeling and some of your experiences. As someone pointed out, many people aren’t where they expected to be… I do like your blog because it’s often inspiring. In my opinion, if you were to focus as you mentioned a few blogs ago, I would say inspirational writing is your strength due to your honesty and depth of feeling. But that also comes in handy when you’re writing a book–however, I have written a book and it takes a very long time to get published and since you’re unemployed, you need money. Do you have a plan?
I hope you change your mind and look forward to hearing more about your life as it evolves. Take care and thank you for sharing your heart and thoughts and aspirations.
pls say that this is an april fool’s joke… the only reason i think it’s NOT a joke is b/c your twitter page is gone, too. but then i get hopeful again thinking: “if she’s moving domain names, she’d change her twitter, too.” i *JUST* found your blog a couple weeks ago, but i will miss it muchly. good luck in everything, jane. :))
I can say with certainty that I will be reading you again. Can’t wait.
oh Jane…say it ain’t so???!!! this cat is more curious thanks to you!!! so thank you…and please…just say it ain’t so!!!
Jane - I also am hoping this is an April Fool’s joke - but I somehow don’t think you roll that way. I believe in you and your stories. Your writing has made me laugh, made me cry, made me angry and made me look at myself - in a deeper way. Thank you.
I’m sorry to hear that Jane but I understand what’s going on. I’ll be 49 this year and I’ve been thinking: I’m tired of being weary. I’m choking on bitterness, swallowing pride, fretting over my sick cat, letting go of dreams, refusing to let go of dreams, worrying, worrying, worrying even though worry never helped anyone
I wish I could help or say something to help. I wish you the best and I’ve enjoyed reading your blog -
Please stay in touch.
Ineeded a “love letter” this AM, but not this one. I can’t respond right now.
I needed a “love letter” this AM, but not this one. I can’t respond right now.
okaaaaay, now you chime in and call us all “April Fools”….come on Jane…don’t quit us
xok
To a great writer from an appreciative reader… awww fuck!!!
I too have holes in my bio. I too have so many thing that I want to accomplish but haven’t. and, just two short weeks ago, you said to me, on a down day, “is comparison ever warranted or just”
Our accomplishments are our own. Our struggles are our own. The joy of life is to share them with others, to listen, learn, trust, rant, argue, debate, and gain perspective.
I want to thank you for writing and sharing with all of us. I hope that you find solace, health, and a path. And I hope that that path includes sharing with everyone again.
I hope it’s not the end. You will be missed.
I will miss this blog greatly. The thoughts and opinions shared here were always so interesting and real. You are a great writer and you just need to find something else for now. I get it and suspected this was coming. I know it was probably a layered and hard decision, as good byes always are. You are very brave!
I am still gonna email you when I have something to say AND I am still going to give you a holler when I am in MN. Rock on Jane.
Thank you very much for your time and devoutness. I wish nothing but the best for you and your family. Please keep a list of email addresses to let us know when/where we can support you again.
Lisa
Jane, why? Maybe I understand because I’ve been thinking today that I need to quit blogging, because I’m beginning not to see the point of it, but still I wonder what brought you to this decision. I’ll miss you! Nikki
I’ve witnessed your life in print and befriended your thoughts for just shy of one month.
I’m in awe of your steadfast conviction and devotion to follow your inner nudges…Your voice must be heard by humanity…My deep hope is that you are realizing the demand for this and the need — in honoring it– to rechannel your efforts…
I can not wait to meet you in person someday I hope…but until then, I will be looking for your writings..for therein do hearts connect and do we truly find our sense of family and home and community and peace.
I can honestly say I love knowing of you and can not wait to know you further through your writings.
For all you are doing for woman and humankind……Deepest respect and gratitude…Tre ~
I too hope this is a grandiose April Fool’s Day joke.
You got me. Tell us it’s not true. Go ahead. Please?
But at the same time, from this strange and crooked path, I understand the hundred broken things, the ragtag, overfull life (and I wear a scar from a tumor in the neck). I think you know that if you need a shoulder, a hand for holding, or someone to reorder the glue (you know, for fixing the broken things) we are/I am just a few keystrokes away.
Thank you Jane.
Giant hugs. Peace.
xo
bek
I can’t even say how much I will miss this…I have wept at some of the things you have written, laughed at others, gotten filled with need to act on yet more….not only that but in the comments of your readers I have found that there are people who walk paths that are not unlike mine each in a different way. I dreamt of you last night in one of those dreams that might have been real…I was reading something on the net and I looked at the author and it was you. I hope that whatever you need to do for yourself, you can do, and wishing you the power and spirit to do it. My wish is that if this site is not around that I will at least happen upon a well written thought provoking article and look at the author and it will be you…like a present tucked away and forgotten and such a pleasant surprise. I don’t have eloquent words for you but I have love and appreciation and wish you the best!
There are no words that can express how much I will miss reading your exquisite writing. I can only hope that you will once again gift us with your words. Thank you.
It’s taken me a couple of days to wrap my mind around this.
Yours is the only “blog” I read and I’m putting that in quotes because I don’t know exactly what to call your site, but it’s never been just a blog to me. Blogs talk about personal lives and while you do that, you’ve also brought us so many insightful stories, from Anna Nicole Smith to child abuse to politics to psychology. You once said you hated being a reporter because you didn’t want to attend city council meetings and sporting events, but I think you missed your calling and that some editor out there should have seen that, if not for a newspaper than for a magazine, where your depth of perspective might be appreciated.
I feel, rightly or wrongly, that the lack of comments on the last few things you posted played into your decision. You didn’t say, but you’ve said before that you write for a community here and not for yourself, and that a lack of comments makes you feel that you either didn’t write well, or that you wrote something no one cared about. I just want to say that if that had anything to do with your decision, I am very sorry. If it didn’t, then know that I’m just grasping for excuses.
The Elephant Woman story was heartbreaking and I wasn’t expecting that, but it’s beautifully written and I suspect that even the strongest Elephant Girls do eventually reach the end of their life. I just wasn’t ready to read that.
Wow Jane, I could say so much more. This post just really knocked the wind out of me, and I wish there was something I could do or say to make it okay. Like your family, I feel I failed you in a way. I know that wasn’t your intent, but like I said I’m grasping.
I hope you’ll keep my email address and let me know how things are going now and again. If you write a book, I want to be one of the first to read it!
Funny how we’ve never met, but I feel so attached. I think that’s your gift, Jane. You and your site have always been a warm and welcoming place.
I don’t think I’ve ever wished harder for someone elses happiness and success as I am for you right now.
Jane, you have been here for some of us when we needed it… made us laugh, cry and truly think.., why not let us do the same for you… now is when you need us… don’t close that door.
T (GutterOfMyHeart)
I’m hoping this is an April Fool’s story, but i’m always a bit suspect that the joke really is me. Got laid off once on April 1st, and mistrusting ever since. Anyway, enough about me, here’s to you. I adore you honey, and this post breaks a tiny little piece of my heart. I hope you’re ok, and that I’ll see you bopping around the internet soon!
You made me cry, girl, but after I got through with that I thought ‘yes!’, this is what you need to do, as painful as it is. You have a shitload of street cred, now you have to go get some cred in places that pay. I get that! I also get that there are only so many hours in a day, especially when you’ve been running on a half tank due to damn tumors and dwindling bank accounts.
So get yourself fixed up, healed up, and prettified because it’s hard to write a book, or anything else, when demons are knockin’ on the door. And when you’re done with all of that, I know you’ll come back and tell us.
I’m keepin’ you in my feed reader, even if it takes a year.
Much LOVE to you, and I mean LOVE in the real & not the Hollywood way.
Hello friend…..if generosity was a profession you’d be rich. As one of the beneficaries of your frequent mitzvas I feel like turning your thanks around and giving it back to you. At my age I didn’t feel like I had much left to learn, but then I met you. You’ve helped me see things, including my middle son, through new eyes. You’ve helped me become more assertive, and proactive about my own life. You’ve also encouraged me to think about my hobbies as creations. Wow……is it any wonder I’ll miss you online?
Please stay in touch. I want to know what’s next so I can support you in any way I can.
No fucking way.
I get your need for space and time and not wanting to commit to this blog, but this blog could also be what makes getting through this difficult time just a slight bit easier…
M.
I keep coming back thinking perhaps you’ve had a change of heart.
This just seems so sad to me.
Unfortunately my words are not eloquent(a writer I am not), so I will say this: Ditto to what TRE wrote.
And, if you ever need a place to stay, just to get away from it all…we’ll leave the light on for you.
Thank you for sharing all that you have.
If, indeed, the demons are still occasionally (or constantly) knocking at the door — as another reader suggested, I know you will find the strength to banish them. All I ask, is that you pass along the banishment process to the rest of us. I need it badly.
Your blog brought a smile to my face and — for whatever reason — a glimmer of hope to my heart. I’ll miss you tremendously.
I’m hoping it really is a joke????
If not, I hope you find a way to keep in touch.
Huge Hugs from Texas,
Melissa
Oh Jane, I am devastated to read this post. First and foremost to read that you have a tumor, and second to read that you are closing down your blog. There is nothing more urgent than your health, and I hope and pray that you will be fine. Once you are healthy, I urge you to reconsider closing your blog. You have been such an inspiration to so many (selfishly me!) I understand how you feel, especially after the frustrating chore of writing a bio with seeming holes in your history. I’ve been there too. I am there. But your history is what makes you who you are, and you are fabulously interesting. No singular work experience or fancy diploma will ever replace the life you have lived to create the writer and person you are today. You have a loyal community that loves and believes in you. When you are writing your book, use this blog as a get away space, a place to write short little pieces, to connect with us, to write something other than than what you are working on.
My thoughts of encouragement and good health are with you always.
Much love to you my friend,
Noelle
I’ve been missing you on Twitter, and finally tracked down this post. I’m concerned.
Please leave word in a comment at TPC if you can. You have become an important, wonderful part of my day.
We all miss you. I hope you’re well and able to divulge more soon. Much love and a big hug!
Laffy