That's why the good ones are all alcoholics

Apologies for my grumpiness of yesterday. Between the gay pants and a little time watching Skeeter and Angus make googly eyes at each other on Miracles as I make clips for a vid, I’m better today. I started thinking about things last night, about reader responses to things vs. the writer’s vision or feelings about things. I’ve addressed this before in this journal, a really long time ago, but I was thinking about it again as I pondered the weird way in which fans seems to communicate, and how writers are put in a fairly solitary position by their craft.

( Long, rambling thoughts about reader expectations vs. writer ones and a lot of stupid stuff about me, me, me )