The doors are about to close on the first issue, with close to seventy of you having subscribed. Over the course of the next ten days, I'll be printing, packaging, and sending out an original North of Reality fiction piece to everyone who made it before the stroke of midnight. There will be no electronic copies- only those which you receive in the mail, signed and numbered by yours truly.  These words will not be published by anyone until at least after my death- and a terrible fate may befall anyone who dares to do so after that point.

You who receive this first piece are its steward. What becomes of your copy is your decision and yours alone; perhaps you'll store it away beneath your bed, or perhaps you'll offer it in trade as part of a Mephistophelean bargain, or perhaps you'll burn it to increase the secret's potency. Whatever you choose to do, I hope that you at least read it first.

Secrecy is strength. These pieces are not meant to be plastered and marketed across an increasingly saturated wordscape; they are quiet things, and their power lies in their resistance to scale. They will never be lost in some compilation or magazine, nor set adrift in a sea of electronic shares. They are yours, and the only place that they belong is in your hands.

Whether or not you've chosen to subscribe before the deadline, thank you for reading North of Reality. I'm overwhelmed by the positive response I've received, and I'm honored to have all of you as my audience.

Your author,