Ink, Paper and Gratitude

Well, we did it. Three books down.

This might sound strange, if we’ve never met, but if you’ve read any of The Skyscraper Throne books, I think of you as a colleague.

We might be friends too, I’d like to think we’d be friends. You obviously have excellent taste in books, and that counts for a lot with me.

About five years ago, I had an idea for a monster of the city, whose fingers were cranes. Railwraiths and Pavement Priests and electromagnetic spiders, followed soon after, and then a boy who’d been raised to believe this strange world was his inheritance.

And I signed with an agent, who made those ideas better, and she hooked me up with a publisher, who made the book better still. And together we took those ideas and turned them into little black marks on white paper, bound them, and sent them into the world.

That got us half way.

You did the other half. You turned those little black marks into ideas. You lent us your imagination. We gave you nothing but ink and paper and you made Railwraiths and Scaffwolves and oil Soaked traders.

You trusted us with your money, your time, but most of all the handful of cubic inches inside your skull you devoted to imagining with us.

And that – I can’t be flip or cynical about this – that is awesome to me.

A book isn’t a book until its read. A story’s not a story until its felt.

If we ever do meet in person, pull up a chair, it’d be awesome to make your acquaintance.

But in the meantime, thank you, it’s been a pleasure working with you.


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