Just some observations after I've just been interviewed by a magazine/website:
"But I just want you to know that these things don't represent DC Comics as a whole" has become the mantra with every interview I do. Though really, I have no basis anymore to say what DC represents or doesn't represent as a whole at all. More properly: DC is the sum of many independent parts, and you can't even hold up that sum and say: SUM! There is no sum, no one view of it. A company, a brand, likes to have that one unified sum, that one thing that represents them. But that's not reality. And with Levitz out, Nelson in (but not knowing what direction she's going into), and DiDio writing Weird Western Tales, I have absolutely no way of knowing what represents DC at this point. All I have is some good watercooler tales and...
...I apparently still have PTSD when discussing the topic of sexual harassment. My hands literally shake with anger, my pulse rate goes up, I stutter. You know, it's not rape, or anything like that; but I have been previously diagnosed with PTSD as the result of the harassment and everything involved with it. It's just the idea that something that happened so many years ago, something that involved what I guess you would categorize properly as consistent mental abuse (as opposed to physical molestation, etc.) could produce this "fight-or-flight" immediate reaction whenever it is mentioned. That's amazing. The mind is amazing. Really, if I could take one of those "Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind" treatments and wipe everything from the years 2003-2006 out of my memory (hey, let's include the 2nd half of 2001 just for the heck of it), I would.
That said, I'm not going to shy away from topics in interviews or whatnot that depress me, upset me, etc. I mean, this interview I had today was great, with insightful & smart questions, for a publication I really dig & respect.
I'm just saying that...it just made me think, the types of stories we end up carrying inside of us, that checkered trail of successes and failures, sublime moments and betrayals. How many of us carry these stories like an invisible overstuffed backpack strapped to the body and will never tell anybody? I am not unfortunate. I am lucky. I was born with an inborn drive to Tell. That's what I do. It's certainly not like I'm bereft of secrets, or that there's nothing left that I haven't posted to the entire world. Oh, I wouldn't be a full, textured human being if I still didn't have my secrets. But my survival mechanism has always been to communicate. Some may see that mechanism as my fatal flaw and not an asset at all. But I guess it's all in context.
Regrets, I've had a few...
Seriously, you just have to cock your hat and keep pressing forward. And I actually have a hat, now.