RELATIONAL MEDIUM HUMOR

I Didn’t Ask for Friends, Posse, Wolf Pack or a Therapy Group on Medium

How did I end up with them all?

I started out on Medium in February 2018 as a humor writer, because I think I’m hilarious. I also wanted to throw my work out there, see what stuck, skyrocket onto the Medium scene, make lots of money, and stay the woman behind the curtain.

Hardly anybody read or laughed, and then the world continued its slither into darkness and futility that arguably began in 2016. An alleged rapist was nominated to the Supreme Court, by a person of similar history and caliber. More unbelievable stuff happened. I gave up humor for political and cultural commentary. Yawn.

Eventually, I started writing dark humor and became a top writer in Humor, although that title comes and goes, like an unwanted ex you’re still sorta fond of.

Aside from finding a place to post dark humor, I didn’t start writing here to make friends. A following and readership yes, but friends, no.

I had some close friends, my “real job” as a psychotherapist, and my son and sisters, nieces, nephew and great nephew. I like traveling alone, and do it often. My time and emotional bandwidth was already stretched, and I was content.

I had all my ducks in a row, and forgot that once you get all the ducks lined up, one or two of them always wander off.

I wanted to skyrocket onto the Medium scene, make lots of money, and stay the woman behind the curtain.

Don’t get it twisted, I would reveal nearly all in my writing, but you’d never “meet” me.

The Universe, and Medium, as usual had other plans.

A wild and tender wolf woman I read and comment on decided to form an email friendship with me. I was flattered and shocked. She’s younger, a much better writer, and I was mystified. Still, I responded to Yael Wolfe, and thus began my slippery slope slide into — gasp — making actual friends through Medium.

Soon after, Medium decided to evolve into a relational platform. What was this, a conspiracy? Drag the reclusive psychotherapist out into the open? Force her to have interactions with people who aren’t her clients, family, or friends who’ve known her for thirty years or more?

Because of course it was all about me.

I had already made the dubious decision to meet two writers in person. Hey, it seemed harmless. They live in Austin, where I live, and it put faces and personalities to a couple of the people behind the platform veil. Nicole Akers and Kerry McAvoy, PhD and I commiserated, laughed, shared tips, and drank. Maybe my bubble could expand just a little to real life writer encounters. I’ve since met Hogan Torah, and that’s a story all its own

John Gorman, who also lives in Austin, and I have progressed to Facebook friends, but he is as elusive as I am. Or as I was.

As with most major life transitions, it’s hard for me to remember clearly how I arrived where I am now in this whole relational journey. There were more writers who wanted a look at the darkly silly psychotherapist behind the curtain, although two in particular stand out.

In my attempt to resuscitate my humor writing after a stint of articles on Anti-racism, voter suppression, and the rising tide of anti-vaxxers, I innocently asked James Knight how to submit to MuddyUm.

James told me to email Susan Brearley, the editor and captain of her self-proclaimed pirate ship, MuddyUm. I did, and was allowed on board. After reading her particular idiosyncrasies, I mean standards, for being published there, I began submitting.

Paul Hossfield, aka whatever the hell he is calling himself this week, told me one of my first submissions wasn’t funny. It began what has now become a vicious back-and-forth between us, although he isn’t aware. It’s all in my head. Isn’t everything for writers happening mainly in our own heads? Or is that just me?

Paul also has an issue with trite phrases, hence the scattering of those throughout this article. It’s fun to watch his head spin.

I did take up for him against an actually vicious troll in my article “Quasimodo, a Troll, and a Damsel Not So Much in Distress.” Another dangerous precedent. When you start taking up for fellow writers against scary trolls, there’s a danger they might actually read your writing and — gasp — LIKE you a little bit. Of course, I can’t really speak for Baskerville Old Face, his current aka, but he did applaud the story.

At some point, and since it still feels like a waking dream, one I can’t pinpoint or detail, Susan Brearley and I started talking a bit on Messenger. The slip and slide was fully set up on the lawn and the hose turned on by now.

Susan offered moral support after I broke both my ankles and I wrote hilarious, if I do say so myself, and I do, stories about my physical infirmity.

Within months, I hobbled like the proverbial lamb into slaughter to a discussion on her Facebook group about needing more editors for MuddyUm. Why not? I already edit my own publication, New Choices. How much more work could it be?

Here’s the rub. It’s not a huge amount of more work, and it’s actually fun to edit humor. However, there is a “recommended” weekly Zoom meeting of the editing team, the Mudditors.

Yay. One more Zoom meeting a week. In addition to the 15 to 24 clients I video counsel every week. What fun.

Turns out it’s great fun. What’s better than a Zoom room full of humor writers? An actual room of humor writers, but since we’re from all across the world, that’s not possible, so this is the next best thing.

I haven’t even made all the meetings since I began, and already I feel as if Susan, Paul, both Amys, Amy Culberg and her AKA Amy Sea, Holly J See, Lucia Siochi, Anu Anniah, Nanci Arvizu, and Sarah Paris are becoming — another gasp — friends. Update: these folks are now friends and Mudditors as well, Andrew Rodwin, Gary Chapin, T. Kent Jones, Stephanie Wilson, Betsy Denson, Toni Crowe, Rachael Ann Sand, and yes — BOFace.

Add to that group some other writers who attended a Zoom-a-thon where we were hacked with traumatizing porn. Seriously. Holly Jahangiri immediately informed us on what to do to report, and became our posse leader. One of the others is my shero on Medium, Toni Crowe. In my wildest dreams I didn’t expect to come face-to-face with her in person or on Zoom. Yet there she was, helping us through the trauma, as I was trying to do in my unofficial therapist capacity.

Remember how you became friends with people IRL, in real life? Shared laughter, silliness, dark humor, mutual support, trauma and helping one another through it — is how friends are born and develop.

If you’ve got enough friends, as I thought I did, do NOT join MuddyUm, accept emails from wolf-like writers, or meet any of them for drinks if they’re close enough geographically. I’m telling you, your curtain will be ripped down, you will be seen typing and pulling strings, and you will have friends you never thought about having.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

By the way, I also found true love with one of my readers. Seriously folks, don’t tease the Universe. It didn’t last. The Universe has a wicked sense of humor.