My name is Emily.
I am twenty-nine years old, I’m divorced, and I live part-time with Layla the Demon Cat, part time with my boyfriend (who is not a demon boyfriend ;P).
I work as a teller for a little bank in Beaumont, Texas. It’s an awesome job.
In January 2013, I will have been a resident of the State of Texas for five years, the longest amount of my adult life that I’ve ever resided in one state.
I’m a crafter. I’ve been crocheting since I was a kid, and I love to do things myself. I have a really bad habit of making huge plans for projects and then leaving them half finished.
I’m a reader. I have been for as long as I can remember. Books were my friends before I knew how to befriend people.
I’m a writer. I have been since the sixth grade. I write novels mostly. I’ve tried my hand at short stories, they never resonate as deeply with me as my novels. Also, literary magazines are pretentious. They make me feel like I have to sell my soul to see my words in print.
I’m a fan. I am a fan of many things. And when I latch on to something, I don’t let go easily. I am an obsessive fan of good stories and have many ways of showing my love for the things that I obsess over. Mostly by squealing uncontrollably whenever any of these things are mentioned in any capacity.
I’m intelligent. I may not act like it all the time, but never assume that because I am giggling or obsessing over a silly fandom, that I am not also considering the deeper meaning of the cosmos. Art, poetry, opera, classical music, all of these things are my refuge from the swirling oblivion of modern society.
Sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong era. I think I would wonder that, no matter what era I was born in.
This is me. Here you’ll see only bits and pieces. But I’ll share them with you, if you want to listen.