First, let me say I owe you all an apology. When I last posted, I had the best intentions of being more consistent, sharing updates, and sprinkling a little extra life into this blog. But Life—capital L—had other plans. You know how it goes. Deadlines pile up, days blur together, and suddenly it’s been… a while.
The good news? I haven’t returned empty-handed. I’m thrilled to share that I’ve completed my third novel! The official title and publication date are coming very soon, and I can’t wait to reveal them to you.
And even though Life is still doing its thing, writing is also Life to me. Just as I pulled through and finished my third novel, I’m determined to make 2025 the year this blog gets the same kind of energy. More posts, more great news, and maybe even a few surprises along the way.
Now, let’s talk about trusting the process, shall we?
Every story begins as a whisper—an idea that tugs at the edges of your mind until it refuses to be ignored. As a writer, you learn to recognize that tug. It’s exciting, intoxicating even. You’re ready to dive in and bring this brilliant, life-changing idea to the page. And then reality shows up with its favorite trick: reminding you that nothing goes as planned.
This book, my latest labor of love, was no exception. Its journey was uniquely challenging, and let me tell you, it took the scenic route getting here.
Originally, this novel was supposed to follow my 2018 debut, Duality. That was the plan. A tidy little timeline of creativity and success. But somewhere in the middle of writing the manuscript, I had an “Oh no” moment. The plot of my story bore a striking resemblance to a blockbuster movie that debuted while I was still working on it. Technically, I’d started my novel first—but really, who would believe that? Even I wouldn’t have, if the roles were reversed.
Cue the dramatic writer’s pause.
I stepped away from the book entirely, shelving my characters and their chaos like toys packed away for another day. I shifted gears to work on a new project, one that eventually became my second novel, Vitae, published in 2020.
Here’s the funny thing about stories, though—they don’t stay quiet for long. The characters I’d set aside? They refused to stay in the box I’d tucked them into. They loitered in my thoughts, whispering, “What if?” and “You’re not done with us yet.”
Eventually, I listened. And starting over—while daunting and a little soul-crushing at first—was the best decision I could’ve made.
What emerged was a stronger foundation: a new world, a fresh plot, and even bigger entanglements for my main character to navigate as she takes her place in this narrative. Stepping away wasn’t giving up. It was recalibrating. It was recognizing that the creative process isn’t linear, and it doesn’t always care about your carefully made plans.
Here’s the thing about writing, or honestly, life in general: just because plans change or go completely off-course doesn’t mean the end goal is impossible. Sometimes you need to take a detour to discover a better route. Sometimes you need to start over to build something stronger. And sometimes you need to trust your instincts, even when they’re screaming, “This isn’t working!”
I know it’s tempting to push through because we’re conditioned to believe that giving up—even temporarily—is the ultimate failure. But trust me, stepping away isn’t defeat. It’s strategy. It’s recognizing that your story deserves your best, and sometimes your best comes after taking a break, clearing your head, and finding a new way forward.
Writers, trust the process. Trust your instincts. And if you find yourself scrapping a manuscript or starting over for the tenth time, don’t panic. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it means you’re still creating.
And that’s the point, isn’t it?
