Announcement

the future

i first started sharing my writing five years ago. i was 22. i was new, in truth, to writing. a boyhood soaked in reverie and sorrow surely primed the need. i had longing, and i had words. i remember the day. i remember posting a small poem, reading others, wanting most of all to share the nature of my angst; to feel effective and valuable; to feel accepted. i remember the urge to share. the release. the persistent renewal of that urge. my writing wasn’t what it is now. not worse, i think. not better. the motive was different — more desperate, more green. in my life there has always been a sensitivity for expression but i had never tried to hone it. form it. i had never accepted it in this way.

social media. an unprecedented ecosystem of endless give and endless take. the insatiable funnel; a truly modern medium. today i feel both grateful and weathered. i feel excited and i feel cynical. i’ve played the games — all of them. i’ve pandered. floundered. strained against algorithms and against demand. i’ve felt my creativity throttled. invaded. yielded. the lessons have been countless and i’ve learned them again and again. the toll, i often feel, is staggering. a young artist in 2021 has never been more empowered — or more vulnerable to self-destruction. it’s a thin and mirthless line — hardly sincere, inherently flawed. the difficult thing is to accept your particular voice — to feel capable of that acceptance. but what the internet always facilitates is immeasurable reach, opportunity, and that rare, potent strike of connection. this is what i am bonded to. it is the small, gilded truth amid the grey.

it’s been a very long time since i’ve properly shared my work online. there have been some sporadic excerpts, forays, poems. a little artwork. but aside from my publications my writing has been painfully guarded. i want to apologize for this. i’ve tried different ways to deliver my deeper work, feeling conflicted about its value and the flippant infrastructure most online platforms supply. my work, unsurprisingly, feels more important. so to remedy this, going forward, all of my core work will be heading to Patreon.

this is the risk that i face. i’ve tried Patreon before. i had no experience with the platform or any like it. it was a fresh and bold proposition then; it asked questions of my ability, my discernment, my seriousness. i found it unnerving. i doubted the worth of my writing and its potential appeal. and, too, there was the inherent dilemma: Patreon necessitates money. it exchanges a creator-consumer model of free, transitory viewing for one of paid allowance — a paywall. this, for me, is difficult. as a writer and an artist (aside from my books) i’ve never sought to monetize what i do. it’s an uncomfortable idea. it further isolates my work, potentially souring or discouraging most from the delicate worlds i seek to offer.

but life is a road and we have our journey. our hard and eventual choices. how we evaluate the nature of our ambition is crucial. definitive. it’s hard to be here —  to live and feel purpose and know the measure of who we are. we try to make a living. we divide, then devote our moments. our promise. our minds. this, for me, is it — this is what i do. i want to write and i want to move you, to affect your heart as mine so often is affected: this is my waking need.  i’ve worked hard these recent weeks to build a new home for my work, and for you, who consumes it, who permits everything. whether or not you are able or willing to support this new venture, know that i have appreciated everything. that i appreciate it now. i have goals and i have belief, but reserve very few expectations; the offer is fair. however you’ve been here, however you’re reading this — i want to thank you. it isn’t about the money. it’s about pursuit and the honour of crafting something powerful. something bigger. clearer. i’ll still be active here. i’ll still share words and art and anything i’m compelled to share. but the truth and future of what i do, what i make, will be heading elsewhere — carefully expanded. carefully delivered.

to value what we give is challenging. so exposed are we to the demands and to the peaks of other lives that we discount our own. there isn’t room for naivety; desire is not enough, ability is not enough. fortune is not enough — i know. there are no guarantees. no safety anywhere. but i believe in my writing and the growth of it. i believe in the words, my art, in the multitudes of this imagination that has kept me alive.

and my gratitude is forever. and i hope you find a reason to come along.

always,

liam


PATREON