Author’s Note (2026):
This post was written while I was still in the long stretch of revising my first novel. While my circumstances have changed since then, the philosophy hasn’t. The uncertainty it describes — about finishing a project, sharing work, and stepping into public vulnerability — is an honest part of creative life, and one I still recognize today.
How Is Your Book Coming?
Process, Patience, and Inviting Others Into the Work
In any creative endeavor, this is the sort of question that either inspires excitement or dread.
Lately, I’ve been asked this question often — How is your book coming? — and its repetition has made me realize something important. It may finally be time to stop deflecting and begin sharing the journey more openly. In many ways, that was one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place: to have a place I could point people toward when progress feels slow, invisible, or difficult to explain.
Editing and revising a manuscript is not a very concrete concept to someone who hasn’t experienced it. It’s painstaking, iterative, and often looks exactly the same from the outside whether you’re making meaningful progress or circling the same paragraph for weeks. The most honest answer I’ve given for a long time has been, I’m still revising.
Alongside this work, I’ve been researching publishing and marketing in preparation for whatever comes next. As part of that learning, I recently participated in a webinar with writer Jeff Goins, where he shared something that struck me deeply. He talked about how discouraging it felt to be asked about his book before it was finished — before he was where he wanted to be. Yet by the time he finally did publish, he realized how grateful he was to already have a community to share it with.
That idea resonated with me because it mirrors how I think about art more broadly. Creation is rarely a solitary triumph; it’s a slow unfolding. The work is shaped not only by discipline and persistence, but by conversation, encouragement, and the quiet accountability of being seen.
I don’t know exactly what the path to publication will look like. I expect the usual mix of rejection, revision, uncertainty, and far more time than seems reasonable. But regardless of outcome, I want to be able to say that I didn’t let fear dictate whether I tried. Success or failure aside, I would rather move forward honestly than remain silent out of self-protection.
With that in mind, I’m preparing a few blog series to function as a kind of prelude to the books themselves — not announcements, but invitations.
One series will explore the Greek myths that inspired or appear within the story, reflecting the research and narrative traditions that shaped the world I’m building. Another will introduce characters through sketches, paintings, and written profiles, allowing the visual and literary threads of the project to grow together.
My challenge, as always, will be balance — between ambition and sustainability, between eagerness and patience. As my mother once said, you feast in company, but you binge alone. So perhaps this project is best approached not as a solitary sprint, but as a shared meal — taken one bite at a time.
If you’d like to walk alongside me as the work unfolds, I’d be glad for the company.
