The Chronicles of Crosarth – A Steampunk Adventure

Right now I’m sitting up in the middle of the night. I should be getting ready for bed, maybe reading a book and trying to clear my head. I definitely shouldn’t be still looking at social media on my laptop in my living room with the only sounds the ticking of a clock, the typing of these keys, and the tinnitus in my left ear.

I woke up this morning to yet another person getting executed by federal agents in the twin cities. The fact that the previous sentence included the word “another” is horrifying, and I literally started my day by seeing the video of his execution feed to me involuntarily on TikTok. They pinned him to the ground and shot him.

And folks immediately went to social media to defend the border patrol officers who did this — arguing that he had a gun. Never mind that the gun was holstered and he had a permit. Never mind that these are literally the same people who talk about the second amendment like it’s a holy text. And I don’t know if these are real people, or if they’re bots or Russian trolls. It just… it’s just so frustrating to think that anyone would defend this.

This is tyranny. This is fascism. We can see it with our eyes. We are watching it live.

And the worst part? The worst part is a lot of us saw it coming. There are days where I feel like Cassandra, and I keep wondering when enough will finally be enough. A little over nine years ago I literally ended a friendship because someone told me I was being “cringe” in the kinds of stuff I was worried about happening. It’s one of those things where I really fucking wish I’d been wrong.

But also fuck that guy still.

I don’t want you to think I’m without hope or without fight. I’m not a doomer and I’ll never be one. People who are strong don’t do the awful things that are happening right now. If there was no chance of us winning, they wouldn’t be doing any of this to begin with. But just because I think that a storm can be weathered, doesn’t mean the storm doesn’t fucking suck.

Jeffrey Pretti was a 37 year old ICU nurse. He did not threaten federal agents, and they attacked and executed him without cause. The government is lying about the incident, and I know this because I have seen it with my own eyes.

I wish I hadn’t.

I wish there’d been nothing to see.

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So there’s a thing that happens when you make stuff and post it to the internet — people who’ve never directly interacted with you before feel like they know you. I don’t mean like your beloved social media mutual who you’ve had online conversations with, but instead people who really have never said word one to you to begin with.

I’m far from the first person to point out the existence of this kind of parasociality, but I’ve had several weird experiences with it this month which has left me either scratching my head or oddly angry. Because I think it’s important to remember to the vast majority of people who consume the stuff I make I am stranger. Statistically, if you’re reading this, we’ve never had a conversation, and you’re only familiar with the public image I project on social media and the various works of commentary, podcasts, and fiction I produce.

And you know what? I’m glad you’re here! I have real world friends I’ve made who’s first exposure to me is something I’ve made and tossed online. Heck, technically my wife watched one of my YouTube videos long before we met. She’d totally forgotten about it by the time we were actually introduced, but it still counts! I, frankly, want you here. I’m making this stuff so someone will look at it after all.

But, like, again — I’m a stranger to most of you. And while most of you seem to keep that in mind, sometimes an occasional person will talk to me in a way that is really fuckin’ weird.

Like on TikTok a few weeks ago, someone who clearly thought they were teasing me like we were friends made an offhand joke that was, honestly, deeply offensive to me. I’m not going to repeat it, but if you follow me on TikTok, Tumblr, or Bluesky you probably saw my follow up videos about it. The person who posted the comment has apologized, but the important thing is it never clicked in their brain that we did not have the kind of relationship where they could make that kind of joke with me.

Because, again, I’m a stranger.

Now I’m going to mention that this commenter was from Minnesota. This wasn’t really important to the original story, but is for what happened next. You see, a random passerby decided that I was a horrible person for my angry response I recorded and posted on January 6th.

Because we all know what happened in Minnesota on January 7th.

This random dude, who had nothing to do with the original conversation, made a video calling me all sorts of names because I was *checks notes* “mean to someone from Minnesota.” Now, let’s be clear: Fuck ICE and Renee Good was murdered in cold blood by Jonathan Ross. I don’t want there to be any confusion. I talk to people in Minneapolis and Saint Paul pretty regularly, and I know how bad things are right now.

But first off, like, I can think that while also having a problem with something someone from Minnesota did that’s completely independent of the awfulness that’s happening right now. A thing that, again, the person who said it has since apologized for.

And secondly, linear fucking time exists as the entire interaction was done twenty-four hours before the awful, unrelated tragedy. Like I’m struggling to figure out why this lunatic was trying to connect a random person from Minnesota and I having a little bit of an issue with each other and fucking that.

But this weirdo who, to the best of my knowledge, has never interacted with me or my content before, made a whole call out video about it. Dude makes a lot of assumptions about me, and it’s insane.

Because I’m a stranger.

And he doesn’t know the first thing about me.

Look, I’m just going to be real with you. You should talk to creators on the internet like a stranger you’re standing in line behind at the supermarket. Maybe you’ve overheard them say some stuff. Maybe you’ve learned a few things about them by seeing what’s in their cart. It’s not insane to say something to them if it’s applicable to the situation you’re in, but not everything is appropriate. If it’d creep out, bother, or insult that stranger in line, it’s going to creep out, bother, or insult the creator you’re saying it to.

I hope that made at least a little bit of sense.

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As you may have noticed, I say book 5, The Perfect Host, should be out later this year. I’m deep into writing it, and I am determined to have this finished, edited, and ready this year. After book five, I’m probably going to take a break from the series to write some other stuff. It’s going to mark kind of a good breaking point — a satisfying place for the series to end, but I do have ideas for more books in the series if I want to pick the ball back up again.

And anyone who knows me knows I’m not going to leave characters I like this much alone for long.

Honestly, I genuinely love writing these books. I know it took me longer than normal to get Buried Memories out the door, but overall it’s fun getting into the heads of these characters. I don’t know how many I’ll write in the end, but as long as there are more stories to tell in Parrish Mills, I’m going to keep doing them.

I just want to write some other stuff too.

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