It’s official. Contacts have been signed. Money has changed hands, and all of the print versions of the old Riyria Revelations have been retired and discontinued.
Should the series grow into something substantial, those of you who have a set of these, perhaps soon-to-be-rare first-edition books, can consider yourself part the elite group of readers who started on the ground floor. You hold a special place in my heart as those who gave me a chance when you had no reason to, who paid decent money to read the words of a guy you never heard of, from an unknown publisher.
You posted reviews on Amazon when I asked, and even when I didn’t, and you protested the one-stars with courteous comments. You joined Goodreads groups, nominated and voted for my books to be read. You reviewed my books on your blogs even when you never reviewed independent books, or had never reviewed a book before—and you were kind. You followed my blog, posted comments, and spread my posts around. You twittered tweets, faced Facebook, fanned forums, and saturated cyberdom with my name.
You asked me for interviews like I was somebody worth talking to. You raved about my cover art—art that I struggled with, just hoping not to embarrass myself. You quoted my books on your websites and listed me as a favorite author.
You took a chance reading and discussing my books at your book clubs, even when your clubs didn’t read fantasy. You rallied around me in the BSC tournament and carried me to victory against the best of the best.
You bought two sets of paperbacks—one to keep safe, one to lend to friends, and then you bought an ebook version to read. You ordered books and shipped them around the world, from Sidney, to Bangkok, to Bucharest. You told your friends, pestered your family, and let your children and parents borrow them. You even pirated my novels, announcing them worthy of theft and ultimately getting them onto the hands of those who couldn’t afford them.
You named your online game avatars after my characters. You even suggested Royce and Hadrian as names to be considered for your grand children. You took the time to write me fan mail that picked me up when I was feeling defeated, and forgave me for missing the release date on the final book. You told me that my novels were more than escapism to you, that they meant something greater and provided something special—something I never expected.
You said I made you laugh, made you cry, made you cheer. And before anyone else, before I ever felt it was true, you bestowed upon me the title of author—you said I was good.
You gave me a gift I can’t repay—you gave me my dream.
Enjoy the books. Remember who you are, and what you mean to me.