My Kickstarter Journey had an incredible start! Within the first 48 hours, five people came forward and gave me enthusiastic support! Within another week, two more people pledged!
But I have had some bumps in the road. I had an unexpected layover coming home from Realm Makers, followed by lost luggage, followed by exhaustion that turned out to be an illness that turned out to be Covid.
And then my dad went into the hospital a few nights ago. He does not have Covid, but he has some other 87-year-old-type health issues going on. After his grandfather and one of his great-uncles, he is the third longest-lived person in his family, and he has lost so much weight that any illness or infection is dangerous. He used to be 5'6" and weigh 130 lbs; now he's 4'11" and weighs 107 lbs. He looks like the wind could pick him up and blow him away.
He's always rallied—always been a tough but gentle soul. He was born with a physical disability and had experimental surgeries because his family was land-poor, and experiments were what they could afford at the local charity hospital. If you ever wonder why I write about characters in novels who don't make it through their journeys unscathed, my dad lived a horror-show-type existence for two years at a charity hospital that eventually amputated one of his legs below the knee. And yet, he has always been determined to live life fully—skiing, hiking, canoeing and backcountry camping, traveling around the world, piloting his own aircraft, working as an airplane mechanic.
I wrote that last paragraph before I realized what I was writing. I guess this is my way of showing and sharing that the bump I hit is hitting me hard. Although I strive to be tough and gentle like my dad, I am here existing in the midst of messy life, praying and living and writing.
In the To Speak collection, I have a prose poem about my dad. "My Father's Eyes" was originally published by The Drabble in 2020.
Here it is:
My father's eyes hold the stories of the ages. They hold innocence and knowledge. They hold the sky. They hold the sea. They hold the rain. They hold laughter and tears the color of water. They hold rivers and lakes and dusty trails beneath tall pine trees pungent with sap. They hold books read by campfires and lamplight. They hold his whistle and his jaunty walk, as well as his embarrassment and his slow shuffling gait—every step measured for balance. They hold hope for moments of quiet conversation. In my father's eyes, the stories are real.
Prose poems are rare for me to write, but I found it fitting for this collection, which is about speaking up and sometimes using storytelling to speak.
Yesterday, on my socials, I did a video about how I wasn't sure this campaign would finish. I'm still not sure. This bump of health and family health has thrown me off-kilter.
Maybe this will be my one and only fully funded and fulfilled campaign for To Speak. Maybe this will be attempt one of two. Either way, the book will come out.
It turns out there is a history of Kickstarter campaigns that failed the first time around and succeeded the second time. So, if that's the case for me. It's okay. This might not be the right time for this campaign, or for me. I will not quit, but I also know I'm not up for an energetic sprint that Kickstarters seem to require.
If you could share the campaign with friends, I would appreciate it.
I am praying, trusting God with everything, and moving forward.
