The ocean calls my name (not an emo post, I swear)

This afternoon, on vacation, sitting at the beach with a cigar in one hand and a notepad in the other, getting a head-start on inscriptions for Charactered Pieces preorders, I was struck with a sense of a realized dream, a dream I didn’t really know I had until that moment. I write fiction for fun. One day, I’d like to make some money doing so. But until then, taking time at the beach to scribble a few words to people who are wanting to read my book…that’s a damn fine dream to have.

I’ve filled this blog (along with my Facebook account, MySpace page, and Twitter feed) with consistent salesy talk for the past few days (though historically I have always taken pride in offering a mix of the personal and the largely-pertinent). So for this post, I simply want to take a moment to thank those who have made me feel like a rock star for the past few hours. Writers, in general, don’t get much adoration, and what they do get, trickles. I embrace the few, don’t get me wrong, but we all have hopes, even subdued hopes, of becoming a household name by means of our passions. I realized today, that wide recognition could be cool, but niche recognition definitely is cool.

Thanks all.

I leave you with a message from nature: we are meant to enjoy cigars at the beach. How else do you explain ashtray-shaped shells and sand that can be easily scooped to shield the lit tip from the wind?