Writers do write for themselves. It’s inevitable and it’s okay. But I want to say that I have no idea about you, or who is reading this, or reading any of it. All I know is that I love that you’re doing it and I want to thank you. I think it’s awesome to communicate with someone through words that have long been written down, and through thoughts that you’re now experiencing. Stephen King said once that writing is telepathy, writing is refined thinking. I love refining my thinking, and this helps. I love that I’m somehow communicating with you and you’re communicating back to me through your thoughts; I don’t know how it all works actually, but I do know it’s beautiful.
Sometimes people don’t like that though I suppose; sometimes people think I’m pretentious or conceited. But I just want to tell you stories, in the same way that I’m so glad so many people have told stories to me; King, Salvatore, Nix, Tolkien, Brooks, Palahniuk, the endless others, the nameless, the ones I wish EVERYTHING for, as I wish it for you- These people changed my life with their stories and thank heavens for them, for their readers, and again, for you.
And if you read something I wrote, I’m humbled. Because that’ll mean my life was saved. I want that one person to come to me and tell me “You’re welcome Cole, for reading your work.” And as always, I’ll continue using endless amounts of money, time, and energy so that I can hear one person say, read one person’s letter, that they found something they loved. Maybe it will be someone as hopeful as I am. Maybe it’ll be a Giant. But it’s for you. And regardless of my conceitedness (Believe me Lord, I’m tryin’), and my bullshit attitude at points, I wish nothing but happiness and the best for you.
If you’ll have it, fall on.
-Cole D. Lemme