Years ago, when HubPages was still a relatively fresh concept, when there were still authors that wrote out of a nearly psychotic compulsion to disgorge the contents of their imaginative brains believing that a high personal score was a true indication of the quality of the work and could not possibly be attributed to a marketing strategy - there existed a group of friends. And by group...I do mean GROUP. If you were to try and map it based on relationships, it would be more complex than the family tree of any individual living in the state of Arkansas.
We were a competitive bunch. Seething with equal parts admiration, envy and lust whenever we read a piece of work that made one of ours look like a laundry list in comparison. But it drove us to be better...and inspired us to awaken our dormant imagination and push the boundaries of what might be good taste or at least test the rules of the site. We laughed together - no prank or hub villainy was spared in order to get a gasp of shock, a titillated giggle of delight or a "this means war" declaration (said in a Bugs Bunny voice) from another Hubber in the group.
We fought together - if a troll dared to peek out from under it's bridge - we rallied together, descending en masse on the Hub and giving the troll a good verbal thrashing. I don't know about any of you but whenever I saw Shadesbreath leave a comment, I felt like the kid sister whose big brother had just shown up and ohhhh, boy somebody was going to be really sorry soon. Anyone peeking their head into my office would have seen an adult woman, wiggling in her seat with her tongue sticking out, sing-songing "Yer gonna get it...yer gonna get it..."
We championed new and exciting writers that showed great promise by swarming their hub and bringing the HubParty to their page. If you ask any writer the one thing they love nearly as much as creating something to read and they'll tell you that it's reading something incredible that has been created by someone else. Writers feed off this creative energy - to live a stagnant life is creative death.
One by one, this group wandered away. A few made the conscious choice to cut ties with Hubpages - but others merely opened a door, curious about what lay on the other side. The pull to move forward was stronger than the lure of what was behind.
The internet is such a place of extremes. In it, we can anonymously spew hatred...but we can also love people without ever having met them face to face. Through writing, we can share who we are...what we dream...and then, from somewhere out in the static comes a voice that says, "me too" and the world just got a lot less lonely. We speak heart to heart, devoid of the superficial shell that sometimes gets in the way with its nagging sense of inadequacy.
These were the people that I called my friends. As we drifted off, into our own creative niches, we established sometimes tenuous ties to one another through Facebook, LinkedIn, email. Occasionally we would get together in cyber fashion and become maudlin, talking about the good old days of Hubpages and how much we missed terrorizing it. Wasn't it fun?
Some of the group still exist on Hubpages and may even visit this forum and if you do, I have some sad news. Last Thursday, 1/29/15, Christopher (Christoph) Reilly, 56, passed away after a battle with cancer. For those of you that remember him, I know that you realize what a devastating loss this is. For those of you that have not had the pleasure of knowing him, I encourage you to read one or two of his hubs.
Chris was a Renaissance man - theater, art, writing, music, he was a giant ball of creativity (I can hear him laughing at that) - capable of making women swoon and men say "Dude! Show me that trick!" If he ever had a true enemy, I'd be surprised. Very surprised.
My first impression of Chris was that he was a perverted stalker. After publishing one of my hubs, he sent me a personal comment via email stating, "I can't explain it, but I feel compulsively drawn to you." I don't think you can blame me for warming up slowly to him...
I know, for a fact, that Chris joined after I did...but for the life of me, I can't remember a time when he wasn't there. Everybody seemed to know him...no matter how many times he changed his avatar to something creepy...the minute...no...the millisecond he hit that publish button, the world was on him like paparazzi or crazed fans. Including me.
I'm going to miss you like hell, Christoph Reilly - but at least I know I'm not alone.
Kisses,
spryte
