Dear stranger,
At 5:33 this morning — my time, not yours; for you it was probably a reasonable evening hour — you downloaded texspark. Safari, macOS, an IP address somewhere in Poland. That’s everything I know about you, and I’ve already thought about you more than is probably healthy.
You should understand the context. My download log so far reads like a directory of robots: Googlebot, AhrefsBot, OpenAI’s crawler, something called Dataprovider.com. My Telegram bot pings me for every download, and for weeks I’ve opened each notification the way you open junk mail — already knowing.
Then you. A real browser. A real Mac. A real person, presumably, with a real reason to want a LaTeX editor at that hour.
So now I’m wondering. Are you a PhD student with a deadline? A professor, like me, writing lecture notes? Did you find me through a search for something Texmaker-related, or did one of my tweets into the void actually land? Did the app launch fine? Did the trial banner make sense? Is it — and I ask this with my whole heart — working?
You have fourteen days. Somewhere around July 25th, you’ll decide whether texspark is worth keeping. No pressure. But here’s a small confession: the Purchase button isn’t even live yet — the business registration paperwork is still winding its way through the system. So I’ll make you a deal: before your trial runs out, I’ll ship a new release with the checkout actually working. You hold up your end by compiling something; I’ll hold up mine.
If anything breaks: support@texspark.io. It goes straight to me. There is, in the most literal sense, nobody else.
Powodzenia,
Jacob
Leave a Reply