Writer and Reader: Still the Greatest Partnership in Publishing

Dear Reader,

While we writerly types love to throw words around at the slightest provocation, there’s one thing we don’t say nearly enough (and yes, the shame is palpable). Thank you.

You, the reader, are the ultimate raison d’être for any fledgling author with hopes of professional and artistic success. While we write to live and live to write, we wouldn’t exist without you. And what fun would it be if we could?

Please keep this in mind if you’re ever approached by a wordsmith in search of your support. If you believe in what we’re doing and the quality of our work, please don’t keep it to yourself. Leave a review that might catch the eye of another who comes after you. Share with like-minded friends this newly discovered jewel in the rough. And revel in the knowledge that you’re making a genuine difference.

We don’t ask it to appease some inflated sense of self, but because a simple gesture from you might help change the course of our career. It may just open new avenues and create connections that would not have existed otherwise.

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The Pith of the Pendulum

Photo of a chiseled angel statue perched atop a crumbling crypt in New Orleans St. Louis cemetery #1

Ironic, isn’t it, the way the pendulum swings? Most of the time, we barely even notice the back-and-forth rhythm as our days tilt from positive to negative and back again, teasing with blurred glimpses of a “normal” middle ground while dragging us repeatedly to either side. An annoying traffic jam here, a miraculous run of green lights there, when all we really want is a spot in the shade to enjoy a moment of blissful neutrality with a perfectly hot cup of tea.

And then there are those times when the pendulum grows violent, contrasting the bumper crops of summer with the harshest of winters and sunny skies with rolling clouds in the distance. Yin and yang. Balance and counter-balance. Or, as I’ve come to know it, July. It’s been a month now since the publication of my first book breathed to life a dream I never imagined could become reality. But with the weightlessness of elation came an inevitable anchor of darkness to restore my perspective.

I have to believe there is purpose in this balance—a lesson of sorts, buried between the lines. I have my own theories on what it might be, if you’ll indulge me a dive into the diary, but I’d love to hear your thoughts…

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