Sincerely, Your Favorite Author

So I had been trying to get my work published for a long time. I write novels that fall into the genre of fiction (mostly), thrillers, and mystery, but I always keep it fresh and mix in elements of romance, horror and self-help. I decided to go the self-publishing route, because it made the most sense to me. None of the publishers out there really understood how different and iconic my work is, and why should I have to share any of the profits with them anyway?

I set up wifi in my isolated cabin in the woods, bought a phone, published my work on Amazon and sat next to my phone, just waiting for the phone calls to start coming in. Publishers calling to tell me what a mistake they made, news outlets falling over themselves to have me on to discuss my book, colleges extending me honorary degrees for delivering lectures on my work and my contributions to literature. A week went by, two weeks, a month, 6 months, I lost count. Sitting by my phone and laptop, just waiting for some form of communication from the outside world. I began to despair. Am I to be like Van Gogh? Poe? Kafka? Fated to live in obscurity and perish, only to be surpassed by my memory? Museums and libraries chasing down my manuscripts that were not worth a single cent to them while I was alive (and in debt due to paying Verizon to extend wifi to my isolated cabin). That was until... I received a notification.

I received an electronic email stating that someone had ordered a copy of my book. Someone by the name of BKfan69. A pseudonym, no doubt. Who could this mystery fan be? He or she had to have a mind like my own, a fellow genius, who could understand the weight behind my novel's title ("The Cabin Dweller's Hand Maiden"). I felt like a survivor on a desert island, marooned without campionship, finally spotting a giant yacht on the horizon. Every word I have written, every rejection letter received, every job I've been fired from for creating a hostile work environment, was suddenly not only worth it, but somehow destined.

I knew one thing, and one thing only: I had to hand deliver my book to this mystery fan, my beloved reader. Imagine the surpise on his visage upon hearing the doorbel ring and opening the door, only to see the great author in front of him, extending his work to him like God extending his finger to Adam in the Sistine Chapel. Better yet, I could let myself in, and surprise him when he comes home. How greatful would he be for the privilege of a lifetime? I felt I owed it to him. He would be among the first of my flock, like a literary apostle. I could also stay with him, and use his couch as a base of operations since they turned the water off to my cabin.

Working dilligently, I immediately went about trying to discover my mystery fan's identity. Amazon has put up a few obstacles to keep sellers from discovering the identities of buyers, but I would not let Jeff Bezos stop me. I went on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. It was like searching for a needle disguised as a straw of hay in a stack of other needles disguised as straws of hay. How was I to cut through the anonymity of this blasted internet and be united with my twin in mind and spirit?

I went to a coffee shop and began sobbing, deeply. The baristas and customers could not ignore my cries. Eventually, a teenage girl came up to me, like an angel delivered from the heavens to answer my prayer. "What's wrong?" she asked. I used my imagination and gift for story telling, and I told her a noble lie, for it was the only way that the greater good could be achieved. "This guy who bought your book, he really said such racist and bigotted things to you? And you just had to sit there, and take it while Amazon did nothing to address his behavior? I'm not going to stand for that. I got you, I know how to find this nasty piece of work! TikTok will know what to do!"

I ceased my crying. I did not know this "TikTok," but, somehow, I knew everything would work out just as I wanted it to... I knew you would end up reading these words. I am in your home and I am ready to meet you. Now turn around.

Sincerely,

Your favorite author