I’ve got one final meeting with Evie Coates this week before we finalize the cover design but it’s finished enough that I’m unveiling it here publicly for the first time (you’ll have to read the rest of the post to get to it--because I’m wily). She’s done a fabulous job of conveying the look and feel that I envisioned so many months ago when we first spoke about it. I don’t think I could possibly be happier with the final artwork and it’s a real pleasure to finally let people see it. For the better part of a decade, the lives and troubles of characters like Fin Button, Armand Defain, and Bartimaeus Gann have been unfolding in my mind. They’ve grown, evolved, lived, loved, and sometimes died as I watched and struggled to put their stories into words. They’ve made mistakes and lived to regret them. Some have grown wise, some numb, others twisted, but I’ve come to cherish each individual creation in a way that only a creator can.
I‘ve devoted so much time to this fictional communion because I believe in these characters and love the stories they have to tell. I believe that they deserve to be known by others, to be cared for, mourned, hated, or loved by readers as they see fit.
To that end, I’ve worked diligently to do right by them. I’ve written, rewritten, edited, revised, thrown pages in the trash, re-rewritten, re-edited, edited again, and again, and again. Numerous times I’ve paced the floor of my living room reading the entire manuscript aloud, every word, listening for pace, for rhythm, until my voice is hoarse. In time I let others read it and edit it and then took their notes and reactions back to the forge to further refine it, to hammer it smooth. And now it’s done. The story is told, the type set, the cover drawn, and the inky-aproned printer stands ready at the press and waits.
I knew from the beginning that by publishing independently, I’d be leaning on the shoulders of others. Some irony in that, don’t you think? Thankfully, I’ve been blessed to find myself in the company of good people to lean on--people who have gone the extra mile and done more than what I asked, or what I paid them for, or what they could merely get by with.
So here I stand at the end of the journey facing the giant monetary investment required give that inky-aproned printer the nod and see him goad his press to life. And once again I hope to find shoulders to lean on. Humbly, I invite you, dear reader, to be a part of the finale.
My hope is to find one hundred patrons to ease the burden of the initial print run of the book. This isn’t a way for me to make money, it’s a way to help The Fiddler’s Gun over the final hurdle, a way to be a part of something that I believe you’ll be proud to have helped create.
You may choose to wait until December 1st to orderfrom the Rabbit Room Store ($13.99 RabbitRoom.com). But if you’d like to help, if you’d like to be a patron, here is what I propose:
In return for patronage of $30 (Tier 1) you’ll receive:
- (2) signed (trade paperback) editions of The Fiddler’s Gun (for a personalized signing email your request to firstname.lastname@example.org )
For those that choose to offer their patronage, I’m happy to welcome you to the story. You have my thanks and it’s my great hope that once you’ve met these characters and traveled with them through the age-old days of revolution, you will find that your faith in me was well-placed.