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So there’s one day left on the kickstarter, and among the many stretch goals we’ve unlocked while bringing Digger back into print, was one where I said folks would get a sneak peek of the foreword.

So I’m going to throw that up here today.

But first, I want to show you the graphic that I made with Julia on the livestream a couple days ago, that shows nice mockups of the books and gives details about them, including all the upgrades we’ve been able to include.

And you know what? I’m going to do you one better than that.

Right now the kickstarter is at $339,827. But I’m going to show you the graphic we have ready for when we hit $350K because that’s kinda the final big goal for us.

Because at $350,000 every Softcover and Hardcover book people get through the kickstarter will include a special bookplate with new, original art by Ursula Vernon.

Here it is.

(Woo!)

Here’s the thing: I know everyone jumping into the kickstarter would like a signed book. But there’s just no way we can do that. The books are *way* too big, and shipping them to Ursula would take a truck, then a crew of people to unload, unbox, present, re-box, and re-load. Pallets of books. Shipping cost both ways. Plus the books get damaged boxing and unboxing. Plus the time. And hassle. And extra money.

Even a bookplate is tricky. It ads more art design. We still have to do a proofing process, pay to get things printed and shipped to Ursula, then shipped back. And god help us if we lose a box…

But the kickstarter has done well enough that we can manage it. And Ursula has been gracious enough to agree to sign *all* of them.

So that means everyone can get their book signed, after a fashion.

But anyway. Here’s the promo graphic I was talking about…

(Click to Embiggen)

That was a ton of fun to make with Julia and the folks on the stream. I’m trying to do my best on this project, because I love Ursula’s book. But I do my best work when I don’t take things *too* seriously.

And now, without further ado, here’s my rambling mess of a foreword. (Forgive the occasional error, this is the raw text, not the nicely trimmed and copy-edited version that exists in the book itself.)

*     *     *

Hello there. My name is Patrick Rothfuss. Do yourself a favor and read this book.

That’s the gist of it right there. You have permission to skip this whole foreword and get straight to the good stuff. I don’t know what you might be expecting from a forward, but odds are you won’t find it here. This is, at best, going to be an odd, maundering aggregation of anecdotes and elegy.

So go on. Get in there. Read it.

*     *     * 

Okay. I warned you.

Once, years and miles away, I stumbled onto a comic called Digger.

I was on a book tour, which meant I needed something to read in airports and hotel rooms. I found this comic in the store after I was done with my signing. I looked it over. Good blurbs. Playful tone. Hold on, Phil Foglio wrote the foreword? I’ve loved his work for ages, especially Girl Genius.

But luggage space was limited, and this book was beefy. Thick as a cinderblock. I wasn’t sure I had space for it…

I flipped a couple pages to look at the art and suddenly there was a full splash page showing Ganesha.

That was enough for me. I rolled the dice, bought it, and ended up having to throw away two t-shirts so I could fit it in my bag.

Every once in a while, apparently, I make a good decision.

*     *     * 

Whenever I write a foreword or introduction, I feel the need to explain that I don’t like introductions. That I don’t read introductions. I find the entire concept baffling at best. More often I think of them as belonging in the same circle of hell as spoilers, paid endorsements, and people who talk in the theatre.

Simply said, I don’t want to tell you about this book. I believe a story should stand on its own, and that the first time you experience it is precious. Sacrosanct.

If my job here is to introduce you to the book… shouldn’t I do it in the same way I introduce people? “Hello there, Reader. I hear you like Books.” I turn to face Digger with an expansive gesture. “What a fortunate happenstance, my good friend Book! I suspect the two of you will form a delightful acquaintance.”

And then I should leave. I shouldn’t stand around, hands in my pockets, eyeballing you intently while rocking back onto my heels, like I’m expecting the two of you to immediately kiss.

So. Reader, meet Book. Book, Reader.

*     *     * 

Giving people books is my love language. And these days, my older son bears the brunt of the impulse. The only thing that keeps me from burying him in books is the fact that I only want to bring him truly good things to read.

Also? He’s 12, and I’ve tried to keep the worst of the world from poisoning him. As a result, he’s crushingly literate with a tender heart and has a real distaste for what he refers to as “Dead Dog Books.” Which is to say, books where there’s needless tragedy, cruelty, violence, etc.

This was more than two years ago, so he was only 10, and even though I loved Digger, I didn’t know if I should share it. Violence, but it’s not gratuitous. Big feelings, but nothing overwhelming. Complex story and relationships, Non-western philosophy but presented with care and clarity…

I rolled the dice again and gave him the book.

He read the whole thing. Then he read it again. On his third time through, he read big chunks of it to his younger brother.

When I asked him what he thought of it, he lit up and said, “It’s almost as good as Bone!”

Trust me, this is stunning praise. I gave him my Omnibus edition of Bone back when he was 7. He’s read it dozens of times. The thing is in absolute tatters. This isn’t him giving Digger second place, he’s saying he loves it infinity –1.

Here’s the hard truth: I’m biased toward digger. You can’t trust me to be impartial about Digger. Hell, I’m publishing it. It’s kinda my job to say nice things.

But my kid? He’s better than me. You can trust him.

*     *     * 

Fast forward. I’m still brimful of New Relationship Energy toward Digger. So I take it on a trip and give it to a friend who lives a thousand miles away.

Again, giving books is one of my purest joys. I get to share something I love with someone I love. And when I replace it, buying a new copy supports the author, publisher, and bookstore.

But it turns out my local bookstore can’t order it. Neither can Room of One’s Own in Madison. Neither can Barnes and Noble…

It isn’t anywhere. Eventually I find a copy for $600 on a rare book site, but that’s it. How could this be out of print? It’s an amazing story. It won a Hugo….

So, using all my vast publishing-world clout, I ping Ursula Vernon on Twitter to ask her what was up. She directed me to Sofa Wolf Press and I learn the harsh truth: The omnibus is, as I mentioned, a *really* big book. They simply couldn’t afford to bring it back with the cost of paper being what it is these days.

I asked if I could help. I have a little experience bringing books back. When my weird picture book went out of print, we brought it back and sold it through the Worldbuilders store, making a *lot* of money for charity while accidentally scarring an entire generation of geek children.

Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that bringing Digger back was going to be harder. For one, Digger was a thousand pages long. For another, Covid was ruining everything. There were paper shortages, printers I’d worked with in the past had gone out of business…

So I called Shawn Speakman, cool guy, experienced book-doer, and founder of Grim Oak Press. We talked. Made plans. One thing led to another, and I ended up finally pulling the trigger on a project I’ve daydreamed of for over a decade: Starting my own publishing imprint.

(I’ll never get tired of showing off the logo.)

As I’ve already said, sharing books is one of my favorite things. I do it so much that I buy my favorite books in bulk, so I always have a copy I can hand to someone. Bringing a book back into print is pretty much the same thing, just on a vaster scale.

Thanks for taking a risk on us. This is the first flight of Underthing Press. I hope it goes well. I hope you enjoy the books I want to share.

*     *     * 

When I was 8, while walking through the woods with my father, he asked me to wait a moment, then rolled up his sleeves and casually pushed over a huge, fully-grown tree.

Later in life, I realized the tree had been long dead. Nevertheless, the effect was that young Pat thought of his father as the strongest man in the world, immeasurably cool.

Earlier today, I told my boys I’d be working on this foreword for the same reason my father pushed over that tree: a desperate desire to look cool in front of my kids. It worked pretty well, because, as I’ve said, my kids love Digger.

On a whim, I asked what they would say if someone asked them for a promotional blurb. (They know what this is because daddy’s an author.)

My 8-year old immediately stomped out with: “It’s wonderfully story-rich!”

My 12 year old said he wanted to think about it a bit, then a couple hours later he came back and said: “Digger is a beautiful story that rambles, but in a good way.”

So there you go. If anyone knows rambling stories, it’s my kids.

And I’m guessing if you’ve made it all the way to the end of this foreword, you might be one of the folks who enjoy that sort of thing as well….

*     *     *

So… yeah.

If that seems like something you might be interested in, you’ve got about 24 hours left to jump in and back it over here.

Later space cowboys,

pat

Also, Shawnposted an update announcing an add-on that folks requested in one of our early brainstorm session, and we’ve been working on for a couple of weeks. Specifically, it’s a way for those of you who love books (and libraries) to add a discounted copy of digger to your order and then we at Underthing Press will donate those books to underserved libraries around the country where they can get the love and attention they deserve.)