I met author Jerry Farnham at a book event around Christmas a couple of years ago. We were placed at the same table. He might not think I listen, but I do.

I am lucky. A lucky guy to have found a venue where people found my writing. Some, for no explicit reason, liked it enough to follow my postings, then buy and read my books.

I found a publisher. Actually, they found me. And that's no easy task—Timmy has been blessed.

This is not a life I chose; I fell into it. I am inherently lazy, frankly. Self-centered, too, at times. I saddled up to writing, and I've found a place where I'm comfortable. I don't deserve the minor successes, and I'd be fine without them. I'd still write; I love to download stories into fine print. I have many more in me that need to come out.

Some days I need inspiration. Jerry's story gives me some. Much more than the big names with big contracts. They don't impress me much. Am I envious? Sure.

Jerry had stories, too. So many and so much that without a computer at home, he went into his blue-collar job far earlier than everyone else. He used the company PC to write his first novel, "Red at Night."

It takes a lot of drive and a lot of chutzpah to work full-time, take care of your family, and get just enough sleep to show up at your job four hours early so you can put your stories into print.

Jerry loves his family, doesn't miss events, and still, he's at it again; this is his third novel. Self-published, carrying his books around in a bin, selling where he can (and on all the online sites, too). All of them are available at Sherman's bookstores scattered around the state.

If you have ever written a book, you can embrace how difficult it is to write three full-length novels. I hear a lot of folks tell me that they are going to write a book. 99.9% will never lay down one sentence before realizing that writer's block is an affliction that can strike all of us. It's far tougher than it appears.

I can't say he'd consider me a friend, but we are, I think. We've spoken a little outside of being a couple of mopes from Maine, writing in our separate ways.

Jerry came to my book launch in South Portland this summer, taking time out of his life to support me, and I wanted to do the same today.

I cannot be there in person, but he did invite me personally. That means a lot to me. My connections to people are what drive me forward. Without the minor success, I'd still have the people. Jerry is one of those people. He inspires me.

As Labor Day came on, out of nowhere, I realized that we would be in Washington County this weekend. I am going to miss Jerry's third novel kick-off at Brady's in Boothbay Harbor. I wanted to go, but family is family, and Jerry understands this more than most.

When I told him that I wouldn't be able to make it, he said, "Well, that means more crusted codfish balls for me!"

That's Jerry. If you want to buy a few good books, uniquely written, with humor and heart, drop by Brady's this afternoon and support Maine's Blue Collar Writer, Jerry Farnham.