It is important for me to pause for a moment and reflect on this website. I hate the term blog, despite the fact that A Rain of Frogs is indeed a blog by every definition of the term. Nonetheless, I choose to call it a site. It lends credibility, at least in my mind.
More than 200 posts ago, this site was born out of frustration. I was experiencing the most significant creative block of my life, and I was feeling drowned by a project that wouldn’t work, no matter how hard I tried. I needed to step away, so I registered the most bizarre domain name I could think of.
At first it was just posts about the project that was upsetting me. Then it was posts about current events that upset me. I felt compelled to release my pent-up frustrations, and through that release, found my creativity returning. I started posting some (admittedly awful) poetry, some fictional creative writing. And I continued the catharsis, continued to purge my demons.
Readership grew. I wrote about the death of my cousin. With that came readers that knew me well, extended family members and friends. And with them came apprehension. I began for the first time to worry about the things I wrote, that they could be misinterpreted, that people might get hurt.
I won’t have that. I don’t want to shackle my writing with concerns for others. So I am posting this now. Sometimes you might read things on this site that are fictional. Sometimes what ends up expressed in text is a warped, twisted version of reality. Sometimes its a warped and twisted version of fantasy.
I don’t make a note of what is fiction and what isn’t on this site. There are reasons for that, but I won’t go into them right now. All I ask is you try not to take things personally, try not to judge what you’re reading by your knowledge of the writer.
There are stranger things than a rain of frogs. Don’t give up on me.