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Monday, April 14, 2014

The patreon experiment...

Vignette by Clive Hicks-Jenkins
for Thaliad (Phoenicia Publishing, 2012)
On Saturday night, I started a patreon account, and I have (very small whee!) three patrons. Thanks to Robbi Nester, Paul Digby, and Sienna Latham for being my first readers!

So far all the material is free, as a good deal of it will be as I go on--now up are the first chapter of A Death at the White Camellia Orphanage, a group of poems from The Foliate Head, and a link to material from Thaliad. I'll probably continue putting out a lot of free material, as I don't see how people can become interested in work without seeing it! In addition, there's a post with link to the great poetry giveaway

In the near future, the patron-only material will be small short stories, which I have begun writing while proofing galleys for an upcoming book. These (or a group of these) will be posts that ask for a dollar in return, or about a half of a Starbuck's regular brewed coffee. Actually I rarely see a Starbuck's in the hinterlands, so I might be wrong about that one. Also, other work that I want to keep private, either because I'm planning on expanding it or because I want to publish it elsewhere, will be patron-only.

I'm planning on keeping the experiment for at least a month. After that, I'll see what I think and either drop the account or keep going. Writers have to be nimble in times of change, and the world of publishing is certainly in ferment. My hope is that it will be an interesting experiment in finding new readers and ways to support what I write.


  1. Patrons to the arts -- what a tried-and-true concept! Again there is evidence that there is nothing new under the sun. I wish you success in your new venture. Your Renaissance ancestors would be proud.

    1. It's an interesting concept in a time when mid-list writers are finding life tough! I like the idea of the "little" patron...


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.