I’ve been spending time with my 96 year old cousin the last few weeks. She’s in home hospice, stable. When you ask her how she’s doing, she’ll tell you she’s the same as she was yesterday and the same as she’ll be tomorrow.
I have no idea how to hold space for someone who’s slowly dying.
Continue reading “Holding Space”
I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with my birthday. Love for all the obvious reasons, hate because it’s in December, smack in the middle of snowstorm, flu, and holiday season. My ideal birthday celebration is to surround myself with friends and family—but travel plans, illness, and holiday party fatigue often get in the way of that.
But this year. This year. Continue reading “A Birthday Wish”
It has been a rough year, darlings. Triggers around every corner, hatred shouted at rallies and in the courts and by our president. An ever growing divide in our country, in our families and friendships. And in the midst of this, my own life examined and ripped apart and started fresh. I have been silent here, not from a lack of things to say, but from a flood of too many. A stack of half started entries that no longer seem relevant, a stack of entries not written because their stories are not entirely mine to tell.
In this space, I am leaving a wish for you, and it is the same two things I am wishing for myself.
Listen to yourself. To that innermost voice. Not the one that tells you what you should do, or what everyone else does. Your voice. The one that whispers shyly, nudges you along the path you’re afraid to take. Nurture it, cherish it, hear it. It is wiser than it knows.
And love yourself. Give yourself permission to feel good. To fall into and out of love. To enjoy the guilty pleasures without guilt. Know that you are strong, that you are enough, that you are worth listening to. You are exactly where you need to be.
Last night was rough. I expected us to be better. Smarter. Stronger. Instead we chose hate over love, exclusion over inclusion, bullying over cooperation.
I am glad that my daughter is too young to understand elections or politics. I don’t know if I am equal to the task of explaining this to her. Continue reading “Standing on the Side of Love, Redux”
Hey Brian,
I’ve got your emails sitting in my inbox. The ones asking for my support. The ones saying that Fireside has been sliding backwards, that people drop off the Patreon from month to month, that without another funding drive you’re not going to make it another year.
And I’m torn.
I believe in what you’re doing. I think writers should be able to make a living wage selling their work. I think the current market rate of 6 cents a word is crap. I think short stories are as valid an art form as novels, and that writers shouldn’t have to be forced to write long form if they want to eat.
I also believe that the only way this experiment can be a success – the only way you can move the needle on the “pro” rate – is if Fireside is self-sustaining. If you have enough of a subscriber base who believe in what you’re doing, who like the work you’re putting out, and who keep paying you every month to cover your expenses.
***
I’m giving you $5 a month. That’s more than I pay for any other magazine subscription, and I pay it happily, gladly, because I believe in you. But you keep coming back and asking for more, and at the end of the day I’m not sure what that means.
Is writing a losing proposition? Do we simply not value stories enough to pay authors for the time it takes to create them?
Is the market saturated with similar magazines, such that people are finding similar reading material for less? Or is it the “Amazon effect” – we’ve been conditioned that magazines should be 2.99 an issue and we’re not willing to pay more?
Are you doing something wrong? Picking stories people don’t want to read, publishing authors whose voices are tired and stale? Do readers feel they’re not getting their money’s worth?
You’ve probably thought about these questions, and a dozen more besides. You’d probably tell me there aren’t any easy answers. Which, at the end of the day, is why I’m torn.
***
Do I look at this like an investment? Like a stock purchased in hopes of greater returns down the line?
Do I look at this like an act of love? Like a gift, freely given, with no expectations or strings attached?
Do I look at this like an act of defiance? Like a voice raised in protest saying loudly and for all to hear, this, this is what I believe?
Do I look at this like a leap of faith? Like a single spark dropping onto a log, waiting for the right moment to burst into flame?
***
You’ve proven that there are enough people out there who believe in what you’re doing to keep you going for another year. As I’m typing this, the subscription drive is sitting right at $13,500 – the bare minimum to keep the doors open.
You’ve said Fireside is your dream. Let’s dream big. $19,000 is your ultimate stretch goal. 10,000 words a month, longer submission limits, and a submissions period guest-edited by Daniel José Older.
You get the drive to $18,000 by Feb 5, and I’ll take it the rest of the way. No strings, no expectations, just love, and defiance, and faith that we’re doing the right thing.
***
Interested in seeing what Fireside is all about? Check out Brian’s response to my letter, subscribe to Fireside, or join the Patreon.