It seems the eulogies are being rehearsed. Look at the top left corner of this page, at the iconic WriterBeat font, it's like mother's cursive. Remember it fondly.
I came here by invitation from Autumn Cote via LinkedIn a couple of years ago. She reached out to me after I wrote something of a rant about the state of American society and politics. Unusual for me as an introvert first, to accept such an invitation but I did. If it were not for Autumn's good will and dedication, Tom C. Purcell would virtually not exist for you to accept or reject, to love or loathe. WriterBeat is the only site I've ever written on, aside from one article on LinkedIn. It has truly been an honor to have learned from each and every one of you, and to merely have existed in the minds of all you who read my work and who read this post, no matter your feelings and opinions of me as an author, as a friend or foe.
It seems that in order for WB to carry on it will have to grow. Autumn is and will always be our champion but it seems she might have to appoint associates to help in a variety of ways, not just to keep the site alive, but so it will thrive. It might mean that Autumn would have to galvanize a group of elite special forces so to speak, to electrify the epinephrine.
Breath deeply and freely, step lightly and liberate yourself from the weight that somehow landed upon your shoulders. Whether or not you continue with WB, your place in the hearts and minds of the good people you've brought together, is secure. You have the right to flip the switch to off, or to pass the torch to another and whichever you decide, Autumn Cote's legacy on WB is already cemented, if not entombed.
I believe that WB has a broken wing. Broken wings can heal and WB will fly again, free as the bird it was when it was born, uninhibited, uncensored, to sing whichever song it feels like singing. We all want WB to remain free as a bird and it if it must fly away to be free then so be it.