Three days ago, my hand was hovering over a “Launch” link on kickstarter. And I was thinking about what a mess I had gotten myself into. About how I didn’t want money to be a thing with my baby, the project of my lifetime. About how I just wanted to make things and have everything I need fall from the sky and not get myself or anyone else into a position where things started to feel like a business rather than an exciting thing that was just HAPPENING to people. On its own. But I was also thinking about the weeks prior to that, when I began hitting walls. And when I came to a point where I had to decide between compromising the spirit of the project because I couldn’t afford the crazy things I began to want to do, or because I was kickstarting it. So I decided to take a risk, and M submitted the project. And I was absolutely convinced I had just crucified myself for “my art.” And I thought kickstarter wouldn’t even allow it. Then a surprising thing happened. They liked it. They went out of their way to like it, and contacted some of the people who had received packages. And they approved it. And I clicked, convinced I had just discovered the world’s greatest tool for discovering how totally convinced people are that I suck, as I was sure to spend the next 30 days staring at a zero. Less than three days later, I was at my goal. And Find the Starlight was on the Popular and Staff Picks pages. I have had good moments in my life. Pregnancies. Births. Home loans approved. Peanut butter. But this was different. This got a needle into a vital organ, and got me where I’ve never been gotten. Where I’ve been trying to get my entire life. Because this was me doing what I’m supposed to. This money isn’t mine. Why should I be excited about money I am throwing right back at people in the form of weird things that I’m abandoning and burying? Because people didn’t give me money. They gave me myself. They gave me a way to do what I believe I am meant to do. As I fussed with kickstarter settings and posts, I became addicted to reading the kickstarters of other people trying to do the same thing. And I started backing what I could, and being part of someone feeling the way I do now. And it’s one of the best things I have ever spent my money on, because I now know just how much every little cent means to these people. I wish I had a job where I just sat on a pile of money and backed people who are making things. From the back of a donut shop, in case my fairy godmother is listening. I am overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude. Thank you all so much, and please go look at those other kickstarters and help where you can. Even if it’s just to get exposed to the passions of other people.  I hope to give you all the best first chapter I can, and I really hope you all enjoy it. Thank you.
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Three days ago, my hand was hovering over a “Launch” link on kickstarter. And I was thinking about what a mess I had gotten myself into. About how I didn’t want money to be a thing with my baby, the project of my lifetime. About how I just wanted to make things and have everything I need fall from the sky and not get myself or anyone else into a position where things started to feel like a business rather than an exciting thing that was just HAPPENING to people. On its own.

But I was also thinking about the weeks prior to that, when I began hitting walls. And when I came to a point where I had to decide between compromising the spirit of the project because I couldn’t afford the crazy things I began to want to do, or because I was kickstarting it.

So I decided to take a risk, and M submitted the project. And I was absolutely convinced I had just crucified myself for “my art.” And I thought kickstarter wouldn’t even allow it.

Then a surprising thing happened. They liked it. They went out of their way to like it, and contacted some of the people who had received packages. And they approved it.

And I clicked, convinced I had just discovered the world’s greatest tool for discovering how totally convinced people are that I suck, as I was sure to spend the next 30 days staring at a zero.

Less than three days later, I was at my goal. And Find the Starlight was on the Popular and Staff Picks pages.

I have had good moments in my life. Pregnancies. Births. Home loans approved. Peanut butter. But this was different. This got a needle into a vital organ, and got me where I’ve never been gotten. Where I’ve been trying to get my entire life. Because this was me doing what I’m supposed to.

This money isn’t mine. Why should I be excited about money I am throwing right back at people in the form of weird things that I’m abandoning and burying?

Because people didn’t give me money. They gave me myself. They gave me a way to do what I believe I am meant to do.

As I fussed with kickstarter settings and posts, I became addicted to reading the kickstarters of other people trying to do the same thing. And I started backing what I could, and being part of someone feeling the way I do now. And it’s one of the best things I have ever spent my money on, because I now know just how much every little cent means to these people. I wish I had a job where I just sat on a pile of money and backed people who are making things. From the back of a donut shop, in case my fairy godmother is listening.

I am overwhelmed with excitement and gratitude. Thank you all so much, and please go look at those other kickstarters and help where you can. Even if it’s just to get exposed to the passions of other people. 

I hope to give you all the best first chapter I can, and I really hope you all enjoy it.

Thank you.

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