I hate you, Tess Hatfield.

So I finally succumbed to the whole “blogging” phenomenon.  As a writer, I feel as though it is somehow my sworn obligation that I have some kind of physical outlet where people can see my inane, angry…err…I mean “ornery,” ramblings.  And oh, do I ever have inane, ornery ramblings.  Upon telling people that I am a writer, the third most often thing I hear (usually after “Oh, what kind of writer?” and “Really, me too!”) is “Do you have a website where I can see your work?”  “Well…um…no…but here’s a business card.”  I mostly write screenplays and comics/graphic novels.  When I say I write comics, people tend to think that I actually draw them too.  You know, the fun, cool stuff.  No such luck.  I write the actual scripts.  Believe it or not, comics do have scripts.  (Well, at least most of them do.  Rob Liefeld’s probably don’t.  But then again, his characters also don’t have feet.)  I write boring technical, ad, and copyright stuff as a freelancer for various companies and corporations as well.  This is all a really long winded way of saying, what kind of writing would I put on a website?  Do people really want to read B2B scripts or mock Coca-Cola ads?  The fun stuff I can’t post, because you know, a screenplay is not like a painting or a video, which can’t readily be reproduced/stolen.  If I were to post screenplays, it would jeopardize the concept and uniqueness of the work, which is kind of a big selling point within the industry.  I suppose I could post samples…some people do that, or so I hear.  But let’s be candid for a second.  The average person does not give two shits about a screenplay.  They aren’t fun to read like novels (I don’t even like to read screenplays) and you probably wouldn’t understand/appreciate the layout, formatting, and technical terms.  Trust me, they’re not that exciting.  “ENT. HOUSE – DAY.  TESS HATFIELD (19), types away at her keyboard as she steals a domain name she has no interest in.  Her eyes narrow vindictively.”  See, you’re bored already.   Thus, I do not have a website, nor do I feel particularly compelled to make one at the moment.  The only advantage I can see would be to market my work to people within the industry…and that’s what my managers are for.  Well, that and shooting down all of my brilliant ideas.  (I hope they don’t read this.  Just kidding, guys!)  No, I’m really not.  They shoot down more ideas than the Chinese Government.  Where were we?  Oh yes, so I have not chosen to start a website, but rather a blog.  Why a blog?  Because people may not be interested in reading screenplays, but Goddamn if they don’t love .gifs of cats doing stupid things while comparing it to some aspect of their life, which definitely, maybe is not in fact how they act in such a situation.  I’m sorry, but I am spurious to the claim that you repeatedly bop your boyfriend in the face like a cat when you’re trying to wake him up.  If you did, I would probably see more domestic abuse Facebook statuses.  (#whatshouldwecallme…hmm, maybe why you’re unemployed and everyone hates you?)  What I lack in .gifs, I promise to make up for in inane, ornery ramblings.  Speaking of, the topic of this first rambling.  Tess Hatfield.  I hate you.

When I first took the leap and logged onto Word Press, after about 76685 (approximately) hours of being overwhelmed by all their themes and technology, I was ready to put in my domain name.  “The Angry Writer.”  It was perfect, catchy, and laconically sums up my curmudgeon of a persona.  Much to my chagrin, I was quickly told that this domain name had already been chosen.  Of course it had.  Because if things ever went according to plan in my life, then it wouldn’t be my life.  Sure, I could have shelled out $18 dollars and claimed “theangrywriter.org,” but Anne Frankly, I’m not paying money for a blog that will be read less than a high school biology textbook at Todd Akin’s house.  So out of gross curiosity, I decided to see what jagoff stole my blog name.  Surely it would allay my fears somewhat if it were in the hands of a capable, witty, genius.  I envisioned perhaps David Mamet or Quentin Tarantino had stolen my blog name, and were using it to the most apropos of its potential.  Not so.  The blog belongs, or rather more accurately, belonged to “Shiloh Black.”  I know what you’re thinking, and I thought it too.  Why does a dog have a blog?  Shiloh Black?  It sounds like a talking Black Labrador that gets lost and must go on a journey with a sassy cat, which Shiloh hates but learns to love, in order to get back home.  Actually, I think Andrew Bird is directing that for Pixar.  (*Insert “John Carter” joke here.*)   Well, as it turns out, “Shiloh Black,” she tells us on her blog, is a pseudonym.

Ahh, how very clever.  Generally when one uses a pseudonym, they don’t tell people that they’re doing so…but when in Rome!  Also, generally people that don’t matter and who write things no one reads…or cares about…or even knows about…don’t use a pseudonym either.  So at this point you must be thinking, “Why does he keep calling her Tess?  And how does he even know it’s a her…Shiloh is a boy dog’s pseudonym!”  Well, I may not own a tweed jacket or posses the strong, defined cheekbones of Benedict Cumberbatch, but I do fancy myself something of an amateur detective.  Less Sherlock Holmes more Boxcar Children (fuck the Hardy boys…sounds like a bunch of kids who got molested in a grimy fast food bathroom).  On Shiloh’s blog, she has a link to her deviantArt page.  And here, in addition to a series of crudely drawn Thor caricatures, we find that Shiloh Black is none other than Tess Hatfield!  A nineteen-year-old girl from Canada.  Of course, I suppose it is possible that Tess Hatfield is yet another pseudonym, and this masked vigilante of the internet uses a new pseudonym on every website, stealing clever domain names only to abandon them in a Czar Alexander I-esque scorched-earth policy.  But now I think we’re giving Tess too much credit.  The problem I have with Miss Tess Hatfield is two-fold:

1. She is, not in fact an “Angry Writer.”  2. She abandoned her blog after all of eight days.

Let’s work backwards and start with #2.  Tess started her blog on August 24th, 2009.  She proceeded to make four self-indulgent, faux philosophical posts laced with creepy sexual innuendos and an apparent love/hate relationship with the man upstairs.  She then stopped posting (leaving more unanswered questions than LOST’s series finale) on September 1st, 2009.  Again, eight days.  She used her blog for eight fucking days.  Let me put this in perspective for you.  Fruit flies have a longer life span than Tess’ blog.  No, that’s not even hyperbole.  Fruit flies have an average lifespan of 30 days.  An average fruit fly lives almost four times longer than Tess’s blog.  Why would one start a blog with such a clever domain name, only to stop using it barely over a week later?  At least delete it so someone else can use the name, you selfish, Tim Horton eating Canuck!  I guess the answer to this is the same reason one would start a blog called “The Angry Writer,” when they in fact are not an angry writer.  Tess’ second of four entries is entitled “Let’s be Lovers, not Fighters.”  Umm…Qu’est-ce que c’est?  The very title of that blog is inherently contradictory to her namesake!  If she was going to make posts like this, then she should have chosen the domain name “The Complacently Content Canadian Writer.”  There is nothing “angry” about any of her posts, and I question the veracity of her claim as a “writer” as well.  (I’m still eagerly awaiting the release of “The Potter’s Field.”)

The real question is, just what exactly happened to dear Tess?  In a mystery which is sure to go down in the annals of history with the likes of Amelia Earhart, The Bermuda Triangle, and the JFK Assassination, on September 1st, 2009, Tess Hatfield disappeared…well, at least from the blogosphere.  She’s still quite active on deviantART.  She’ll even draw you a wolf chilling under a beach sunset (don’t wolves live in forests?) for only $5 dollars.  If you’re into that kind of special gas station art.  But why did Tess stop posting not-so angry posts about her love/hate relationship with God and homosexuals?  Was “The Potter’s Field” ever published?  The answers may lie in her final blog post entitled “Heartsick Teens Make Horrible Writers…”  That they do, Tess.  That they do.  Here we discover Tess has heard those oh so magical words of “I like you too.”  It seems that at the ripe old age of 16 (at the time), our talented young author has fallen under the powerful miasma of true love.  A true love so potent that she is no longer able to blog.  Perhaps, dare I fathom, this love was so powerful that it even compelled her to shed the not-so angry anger which didn’t really, but she claimed it did, throb within her?   But wait…the plot thickens.  Is it a young hockey playing Canadian who has captured Tess’ heart, or a higher calling?  To quote Tess, “This time, it is all about God.  He was the one who mentioned it, but I know that all along I’ve felt the same.”  Apparently, it was God who uttered those words “I like you too.”  A twist fit to make M. Night Shyamalan himself proud!  Over the course of these four blog posts, I’ve had an arduous time discerning just what exactly Tess’ relationship with the G-man is.  In one post she mentions discovering that “homosexuality is no longer evil,” but she will “never condone it.”  She seems to loathe him at times, only to recant later.  I’m under the impression that they have a very on and off again romance.  However, in the end, God got the girl.  “I like you too, Tess.”  Tess leaves us this final striking image.

“I am a madwoman, it was only a (sic) for a few hours that we saw each other, and it has not been yet twenty-four hours since my admission was made, but I feel full of hope that I have not felt in so long and my hands are almost too shaky to write, I am a madwoman.


Powerful stuff.  Powerful stuff, indeed.  It would seem that Tess’ hands never would recover.  Succumbing to a Michael J. Fox state of madwoman love for her creator…or some Canadian kid, I’m still not really sure, she would never be able to blog again.  We’ll always have the wolf chilling by the beach to remember her by.  R.I.P. Tess “Angry Writer” Hatfield.  I hate you.

http://theangrywriter.wordpress.com/  (Here is a link to Tess’ all too short-lived blog.  Give it a read and become possibly the 3rd person ever to lay eyes upon her words as she waxes poetically on how writing a gay character made her “squirm”…but in a good way!  Maybe.)