I can't tell you all how much it means to me to get your support. Yes, in messages, comments, notes, and thoughts, sure.
The fact is, not many people can afford to call this their job—writing, that is.
If it were not for the gifts from so many, including the subscribers on Facebook, the star givers, the book buyers, and you (BMAC MEMBERS AND SUBSCRIBERS), I could not call writing my job, nor keep my website open.
More so, this platform and your kindness in using it are what really keep me afloat, causing me to only work a part-time gig when someone needs me, book events at libraries and bookstores, and keep the camp in order.
You, my friends, are the responsible parties, at fault, maybe, for my writing. And I thank you.
When subscribers begin to wane, I sometimes figure that I've had my day in the sunshine, but you come through again, and again. Keeping me in the sweet spot just out of reach of having to answer to another boss and not being able to write whenever I want, or can.
My fiction novel, being completed, is on the horizon. Once I close up camp for the summer and return to the hillside where I'm now officially planted, I can get back to it, finish, and then seek out a publisher. I hope for light snow in November, but heavier amounts as the winter rages, so I can use the excuse that I cannot get out, thus forcing me to stay home and write, write, write.
The book needs to be finished, even if, when done, it is a total flop. That can be the result of finishing something, you know. I am willing to stare down that reality, for it will be a good sign that I was not meant to be a novelist, instead returning to documenting the mundanities of my life up here on the Jagged Edge of America.
Thank you for your financial support, gifts, really. I cannot say it enough. I appreciate all of you.
Your friend,
Tim Cotton