Because They ALL Matter

By now you all probably know I had a birthday last week. (No, I will not tell you how old I am because it would totally ruin the illusion I have going on about that. Besides, age isn’t the point.)

Ever since I joined Facebook, I’ve discovered that my online friends are thoughtful people who remember the special days every year. Granted, you can’t miss those little reminders, but still. Every single birthday wish is thoughtful nonetheless.

Those people (even if I can’t really see their faces in the itty-bitty avatar box) took a small piece of valuable time to wish me happy birthday. ME. Even the ones who don’t know me IRL. I appreciate that. I am grateful for each person who is willing to take that time.

So on that day when I had a couple hundred birthday wishes, I wrote a couple hundred thank you replies. If I’d had a thousand, or ten thousand wishes, I would have written that many thank yous.

Someone suggested just write a blanket thank you on my own wall (as most people do—and which is a perfectly acceptable way to say thanks to a thousand people at a time—I’m totally not criticizing that practice, cuz a thank you in any form is always valuable). But I couldn’t bring myself to do that. For some reason, I felt it important to take a piece of my valuable time to thank each person individually. Because when it comes right down to it, each one of the people making those wishes matters to me.

Just as each one of my readers matters. I once told some author friends that I will never turn away a reader wanting their book signed, even when my hands are cramped and arthritic and screaming in pain. That’s not who I am. I value every single individual fan.

I believe that NO ONE on this earth gets where they are without help. For authors, readers are a large part of that help. I intend to do my very best to never ever forget their contribution.

On the day when I end up with half a million screaming fans waiting in a line that stretches across the city, I invite you all to question my sanity. (I do it every day.) But if that ever happens, I guess I’ll get to brag that I broke David Farland’s world record. And dang, I’d be ever-so proud.