Thanks to the magic of Facebook (specifically that random "hey, you posted this eight years ago, want to repost it for no particular reason?" feature), I've been reminded of an anniversary I would have otherwise missed entirely. One year ago, I put in my notice at my day job, resolving to take a chance and become a full-time writer.

It was the scariest thing I've ever done, hands down: the idea of leaving a steady, good-paying income to become a creative professional, living or dying on the strength of my writing career (literally), was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, a good friend helped push me over the cliff. And I leaped. And so far, I have not fallen.

It's not a cushy life. I traded eight-hour days behind a keyboard for twelve-hour days behind a keyboard, and weekends are generally not a thing for me. That said, I wouldn't trade it for the world. This is the dream I've had since I was a child, and I'm living it. And you are the reason why.

A writer is nothing without readers. You can create the most heartbreaking work of genius that the world has ever seen, and if nobody reads it, you might as well have locked it in a trunk. In the immortal words of Ice-T, "Guess who controls your destiny? Fans." Fans buy in and keep you afloat. They get the word out, and help other readers find you. A little positive word of mouth can be more powerful than a dozen advertisements.

I've been in this game for three hundred and sixty-five days, and that's three hundred and sixty-five ways I want to thank you. Because I am where I am, and going where I'm going, solely and one-hundred-percent because of your support. Thank you.

Now I've gotta buckle down and gear up for 2017. Lots of stories yet to be told, and the fun's just getting started.