Who the Hell Is Ghost Malone?

It’s as fair a question as any that could be asked of me. Here I am, some random internet stranger who thinks they know a thing or two about free software and sticking it to the Capitalist Man™. But who exactly am I? Why should anybody listen to what I have to say?

I’m not sure I can fairly answer that second question. But I’d like to use this week’s post to attempt to answer the first.

Who am I?

My pen name is Ghost Malone. I’m 27 years old and I was born¹ and bred in the Youngstown, Ohio area of the United States, where I still live. I like books, video games, and most types of tea (including and especially iced). I was/am an almost textbook definition of a hikikomori, and self-identify as such. I have a Bachelor of Arts in Professional and Technical Writing with a minor in Italian, which I acquired last year. I speak fairly good Italian, abysmal Spanish, and am currently learning Japanese. Language is a fundamental part of who I am.

I’m a broke-ass bitch who still lives with their mom (who I love! Hi Mom!). My sole source of income is a freelance writing gig with a tech startup. I write their blog, which focuses on personal development and behavioral economics, and have been doing so for a little over a year now.

I’m a disaster bi and a depressed mess. I’m fat and clumsy, a dangerous combination. I’m the child of an Irish immigrant. I think I’m autistic but have no diagnostic proof (thanks America). My greatest joys in life are making people laugh and making people learn. I sleep a lot and I am never not thinking about food. My two favorite places on earth are libraries and college campuses.

The act of creating has been a key part of my life for as far back as my (admittedly shitty) memory stretches. I’ve been writing stories and drawing pictures since my discovery of the pencil. For my entire developing life, I thought I’d be an artist. Studying animation quickly taught me otherwise, but I consider art just as important to my life and happiness as it was when it was my anticipated career.

Why Start a Blog?

I started this blog without any real vision for what I wanted it to look like or the things I wanted to write about. Despite wanting to for years, I’ve never run my own blog before, so I’m keeping the bar fairly low. My goal is to publish a post once a week. It can be about whatever I want and any length I want. A running theme may better present itself as time goes on--in fact, I already see that happening on my end--but by and large it doesn’t matter what I do as long as I get behind the keyboard and have something to show for my efforts every Friday.

It's planned spontaneity. My favorite kind.

My now-famous (can I call it famous? I’m calling it famous) first post laid the foundation for what I think I’d like to accomplish. The act of creation has been fundamental to my life and happiness but it has never been easy to do. Money, illness, and a general lack of respect for creative people in our modern, Westernized world have been major stumbling blocks keeping me from being exactly who I am. Time, research, and trial and error (mostly error) have taught me a lot about how to create despite the circumstances. Life has pushed me hard and the older I get the less inclined I feel to lie back and let it happen. I’d rather push back.

This blog is a way of pushing back.

Where do we go from here?

You and I are on this journey together, my dear readers. I don’t have a plan. I don’t have promises. I’m flying by the seat of my pants here. But knowing who I am and what I like to do, I feel confident that we’re on staring down the horizon of something exciting. I expect you and I will both learn a lot from this experience.

When I was a kid my mom had this clock that had a plaque with a quote on it. That clock is long gone but the quote stuck with me forever. While writing this, I was reminded of it and looked up where it came from. Turns out, it was the name of a song written around World War I about a soldier getting called overseas.

Though my situation couldn’t be any more different, this soldier and I share the same feelings of trepidation about the path that’s been laid out for us. Unlike him, perhaps, I’m excited for what’s to come.

I don’t know where I’m going. But I’m on my way.

See you next week. Be good. Make art.

FOOTNOTES:

1. Technically I was born in Lowell, Massachusetts and lived in New Hampshire for a whopping six months, but I don’t really count it since I don’t remember it, being an infant and all.