A story came to me in mid-October of 2016 as I was coming down with a cold, and for a couple of weeks I reorganized my life to write it down. It’s about something worrying and true, an idea that breaks my heart every time I dwell on it. It’s also about a giant metal hand that zooms around an alien planet kidnapping people.
For the story to be everything I wanted, it had to be handwritten. Achieving this took two days, a bowl of ice water, and a heat pack; my hand was barely functional by the end. (How had I survived essay tests in school?)
I spent another day scanning, proofreading, and laying out the pages for printing. Then things got physical. Cutting. Collating. And the hardest step: tearing. I was thoroughly ill by that point, so the two or three days of hand-tearing the edges off of ~400 pages were a feverish blur. My fingers were bruised. I didn’t even know that could happen. In the aftermath, I relaxed by staining the pages one by one and stacking them between paper towels to dry.
Several days later, the pages were ready to be collated once more and then packed to ship.
And then they were done. Each of these letters is an artifact: individually numbered, handmade. Between the cost of materials and shipping, I’m currently netting $1.62 per sale. So, yes, it’s a labor of love.
If you’d like to support this strange project, you may do so here. Thank you.