Earlier this year, author/editor Andi Cumbo-Floyd embarked on a 30-day project to send letters of thanks to authors whose work she admired and that had particularly touched her. One letter, one author per day.

While I admired the thoughtfulness of the idea, it didn’t make that strong an impression on me at the time. Yet the memory of it popped into my head on several seemingly random occasions, until I knew I wanted to try something similar. As a writer (even a sometime one) myself, I knew about the feelings of isolation and being misunderstood, or worse, unvalued and invisible, that are just as much a part of the profession as the joyful flashes of creation and discovery.

But at first (and I’m embarassed to admit it) I wasn’t sure I could even come up with 30 authors. Living ones, that is. I enjoy and frequently reread the classic authors of yore—Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, the Bronte sisters—but how many had I read lately of my own generation, or even century?

My worry turned out to be unnecessary. The names started coming quickly if not all at once. Certified Florida Cracker Janis Owens. Missy Robertson of “Duck Dynasty” fame. Mike Dellosso, who turned a short passage from Revelation into a thriller that had me staying up till nearly 1:00 a.m. on a work night. The list went on.

So I’ll be sending notes to 30 authors. Thanking them for the enjoyment they gave me, for the gift of their unique way with words, for their commitment of time and effort in putting those words to paper for the rest of us to enjoy. I’ll also be posting links to their websites and/or works, so you can check them out as well.

I hope you’ll join me.