I think I have an account on Medium.
What is Medium, you ask?
I don’t know.
It all started with a pigeon, otherwise known as “rats with wings”, flying about in the local train station.
We, my son and I, had to get past this vermin carrier.
I flipped my phone to it’s camera setting and the bird settled on a mirror and posed quietly for pictures. As I snapped away, “A little to the left. Can I see happy? Can I see pompous? Can I see shocked?”, I slipped past with my son hidden behind me. Well, as much as one can hide a ten year old barely a head shorter.
I went to post the best of the photos on Social Media, and there she was in all of her wonderful baby in the middle pregnant self: Amanda Fucking Palmer. (No, I did not add the middle name. I believe it is on her birth certificate.)
I paused, awed and more than a bit envious. When I became pregnant, I had images of many Demi Moore – type nudes, with that beautifully centered baby-bump.
Alas, it was not to be.
My son carried on the right. The first time I saw my naked pregnant self in the bright lights and full-length mirrors of an Old Navy dressing room, I burst into tears. No matter what angle I turned, it was very obvious that what would one day become my handsome, intelligent, creative son was now a misshapen blob on my right side.
Damn you, cancer, for screwing up my insides so that this poor fetus had to tie himself inside of me on the least scarred up part! (I had cervical cancer and was told If I survived, I’d never have a child. So when they wanted to remove my cervix, I asked, “Why? If I can’t have a kid, I’m ready to die.” My willingness to die is the reason I have my Miracle Kid today.)
Fast forward to this morning, and as my pigeon photo goes up:
And there she was, Ms. Palmer, with Baby Palmer – Gaiman already writing a caberet rock opera to be read and sung solo by age 2, and there’s a post on Medium. ( “No, I Am Not Crowdfunding This Baby (an open letter to a worried fan)” @amandapalmer https://medium.com/@amandapalmer/no-i-am-not-crowdfunding-this-baby-an-open-letter-to-a-worried-fan-9ca75cb0f938)
I have been trying for months to write a piece titled, “How Amanda Palmer Won Me Over” (hopefully there will be a link there. Soon.). Neil Gaiman, her husband, has been in my Top 5 Favorite Writers for 20 years. While I don’t feel this gives me a right to comment on his personal life, I feel this strange need to at least like his wife, especially as she is So In The Media (unlike his first wife *ahem* sorry).
I’ve tried to find positive articles about Ms. Palmer and failed. When I bothered her fans on Instagram, only one answered back — he sent me to her book, The Art of Asking. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to buy the book, and the Brooklyn Public Library does not carry it. For someone who gives away her music for free / what you can pay, I’m having a very hard time finding her book online.
But, back to Medium.
So far, it seems easy to post on. I signed on thru my Twitter account, but I’m having trouble signing in under my Facebook account as well, even tho I’ve downloaded the Medium app.
I’m sticking with WordPress as my main blog. I’ll try to repost on Medium as I do with Tumblr, but I don’t see it becoming my Main Account. It’s too similar to Tumblr, and Tumblr has at least proven to have stating power.
Can’t wait to see that Baby Palmer – Gaiman solo in a couple of years.