One last (I promise!) telegram, to perhaps be filed under “pestering,” but here goes:
The campaign for my second book, Great Known, is ticking down to its final 72 or so hours. The last day to pledge is this upcoming (atmospheric blinking neon) WEDNESDAY, October 7.
Technically the campaign ends on Thursday morning, at 10:24 a.m. Central European Time; but if you’re a North American, vampires excepted, then WEDNESDAY is really the last chance to pledge/preorder.
At the moment:
Scratchpad statistical analysis = I’m not even close to my goal − uh-oh + all is not lost!
To those who have already backed Great Known, an emphatic and heartfelt Thank You: you enable the unconventional, and I’ve already converted your dollars and cents into the recession-proof currency of encouragement.
To those who maybe-just-maybe might possibly be thinking about backing:
A dear (and endearingly dyspeptic) mentor of sorts wrote to me prior to backing. He bluntly explained that he was interested in supporting GK but was plagued by one nagging question: “What is the damned thing about? Don’t tell me it is a bunch of esoteric commentaries that go way beyond the scope of my intelligence. I am reasonably smart,” he continued, “so if I won’t be able to follow the meaning of your tripe, who in the hell will?”
To which I replied:
“Hello! You need not worry. My book steers well clear of esoterica. It’s a journal of sorts, a weave of reminiscences and remembrances framed around the seasons. I guess it’s mostly about life and love and childhood and parenthood and rites of passage and the passage of seasons. Weighty enough subjects, to be sure, but it’s a quiet enough collection in the end. Humble. Locket-scaled. Down to earth, I hope and I think.”
And that’s what Great Known is, can be, will be. It took a roundhouse smack of a question to elicit from me a more straightforward description of the book than I have perhaps provided on my campaign page.
Now, I’m not going to ask you to pledge. That’s up to you. But I am going to ask you to believe the heck out of me when I say that I care about this book so much it kind of hurts. In a good way. In the best way.
And that I can’t wait to share it.
Internet up here on the mountaintop is will-o’-the-wisp elusive, so I’m going to post this in a minute, before the Web dissolves.