Have you ever wanted to tell me what to write? Well, now you can. I’ve decided to write a book of 13 short stories based entirely upon what my patrons tell me to write. Everyone who subscribes to my Patreon (link at the bottom of this post) will have their name entered into a monthly drawing. If you subscribe for $1, you’ll get one entry. If you subscribe for $10, you’ll get ten entries. If you subscribe for $25…well, you probably get the idea by now. As far as I know, this has never been done before, so let’s make history!

Once a month, I’ll draw a name out of the hat, and that person will tell me what short story to write. Setting, time period, characters, genre…whatever you want. You can be as vague or as specific as you feel like, and I’ll write the story to the best of my ability. (If you win once, you’re still eligible, but will only get half of your usual entries entered into the drawing.) When all 13 stories have been written, I’ll send the book off for publication. Depending on the tier you subscribe to, you’ll either get a free eBook of the book or an autographed physical copy. Winners will get an autographed physical copy no matter their tier.

Theoretically, you could subscribe for a $1, have your name drawn, and unsubscribe next month. But don’t do that, please. 🙂

As a test of sorts, I’ve already had the drawing for the first story, and Irene Knouff won.  Congratulations, Irene! The next drawing will happen on November 1st, and on the first, second, or third of every following month until all thirteen stories have been written.

My Patreon page is below. And remember, the more you subscribe, the more chances you have of winning and telling me what to write!

https://www.patreon.com/joederouen

 

 

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From Joe's writing

The walls of the library were covered in big maple bookshelves that ran from floor to ceiling, sporting volumes on plumbing, weaponry, martial arts, religion, ancient civilizations, and dozens of other topics. A huge wooden ladder lay against one bookshelf, attached at the floor and the ceiling via rollers. The room also housed three leather wingback chairs, another huge mildewed couch with clawed wooden feet, and even a radio that looked as though it might actually work were electricity still flowing through the grand old house. Everything was bathed in dust, and more than a few spiders, flies, cockroaches, and other assorted crawling creatures had decided to homestead the property. The entire second floor of the house was a virtual metropolis of bugs.

— Small Things, Chapter 20