Sometimes I think it’s an affliction — This inability to listen to bullfrogs, watch fireflies, discern the call of a Sapsucker from a Pileated, to listen to my mother tell a story, to share my dad’s worries, to watch my children play, to ponder the world with Bob— Without trying to fit the pieces together with the written word.  

I write.  I can’t go on a backpacking trip without a journal.  I can’t amble through the woods without losing myself to the words that will go down on pages upon my return home.  I can’t surrender myself to the daily work of my family’s business without employing narrative to navigate everything from budgets and shortfalls, to interpersonal conflict, problem solving and marketing.  Sometimes I fantasize about what it would be like to rise every day without the regime of the written word — To be free of the weight of the next book chapter, the next editing round, the next blog post.  I crave the sensation of sleeping through those pre-dawn hours and allowing my body to wake with the rest of the world, as the sun creeps above the horizon, my mind focused only on the day’s tasks, unimpeded by the threads of a story.

And so I try.  And I sleep for long stretches.  My writer’s body still orders me to bed by 7 or 8, my writer’s body still stirs at 3am.  But I sleep through.  And then I sleep more.  And the sleep seems to beget fatigue, irritability, body aches and confusion until finally, I can bear it no more.  I resume my habit of claiming those dark hours for books, pens, and the patter of my fingers on the keyboard.  And I am back to observing my life with the written word.  I am back to experiencing my world more fully, pushing myself to greater understanding of everything around me.

And that’s what makes me ponder if it’s an affliction — or an addiction, even.   I simply cannot navigate life without it.

But then there’s you.  Readers.  You show up every week, and you take my words in.  Sometimes you write back, sometimes you pop into the cafe just to talk about something you’ve read; sometimes you forward my work on to your friends and family; sometimes you put letters and cards in the mail to let me know how the words matter to you in your life.  And you remind me that maybe this compulsion to look at my world through the lens of a writer isn’t an affliction.  Maybe it’s a spiritual calling, a duty to see and share what so many of us are feeling.

And then there are those of you who are able to take this further.  You step up as my patrons.  And every month, you send a dollar or two, sometimes more (wow!  Thanks!).  You remind me that my need to write is more than a labor or a duty that I’m supposed to bear.  You make me realize that it’s an opportunity to support my family while being true to my spirit.  

At the end of every May, I start up the blog, and allow my life and flaws to go before the public eye as I tell the stories of my adventures here in West Fulton.  Monthly blog patronage reminds me that my efforts to relay the honest imperfections of my life have value.  Sometime around Thanksgiving, the weight of relaying my life, mishaps and adventures publicly through the written word becomes too much, and I retreat into my private world.  But still, I write.  I work on my novel, I work on book manuscripts.  I also take some time to sleep and feel what it’s like not to be in a creative state (although that never lasts long…see above).  And during those winter months while the blog is quiet, the monthly patronage stays with me, reminding me how important it is to return in the spring.

Your choice to patronize this blog helps me keep going as a writer.  It assures me that the little weekly pieces matter, and it buys me the ability to explore the bigger projects that speak to my creative soul during the winter months.  If you can spare a dollar or two per month to help support my work, I’d be thankful.  You can jump onto patreon.com and sign up here.  If you’ve been a long-time supporter,  I’d deeply appreciate it if you could check to make sure that your credit card information on file is up-to-date.  Cards regularly expire, and I’m too shy to write and ask you to renew them.  If the use of a monthly credit card payment doesn’t jive with you, I’m always happy to receive checks (Yay!  No fees!)!  You can mail them to me at Sap Bush Hollow Farm, 832 W. Fulton Rd, West Fulton, NY  12194.

If you can’t sign on as a patron or send a check, you can still do a lot to fuel my creative fire.  Share the posts on social media.  Forward the newsletters.  Copy the stories and paste them into your own newsletters if they will speak to your readers (just be sure to credit the source, please!).  All of this helps me build readership.  Writers need money to live (and to pay website hosting, security and domain fees), but we also need readers.  This volume of work could never happen without the security and confidence I experience by having a readership.  Please stay with me.

Together, all of you make the reading and the writing possible.  The patronage helps the blog stay free of advertisements and sponsored posts, and the readers remind all of us that the work matters.  And at the end of the day, when I go to sleep trying to think of my opening line for the next morning, I have your assurance that this isn’t an affliction.  It’s a gift.

Thank you.

Ps:  For those of you who sponsored me this past year, you were able to read “season one” from the working draft of my novel, Angels and Stones.  For those who sign on this year, you can catch up on “season one” as soon as you are a patron through Patreon.  Season two will begin in January.