Taramul Viselor was released on February 19, 2023. Two months or so later, sometime in April, I started work on River’s Rowan. I am currently trying to edit each chapter: however, each time I edit a chapter, I end up changing a lot in it. I change sentence structures all the time. I have a habit of repeating words that doesn’t often get corrected until the editing phase. For example I posted, Willow’s Revelation, first, then edited. The final version of that chapter is slightly different. Someone asked me recently, by the way, which platform I use to write: the answer is LivingWriter : I purchased the Lifetime Subscription back a year and a half ago or something like that, and have really enjoyed its features. Prior to LivingWriter, it was Word.

The book sits, right now, at 133,532 words. Just for reference here, industry standard for adult fiction is anywhere between 70,000-120,000 (unless you’re J.K. Rowling, who has one over 200K, or Stephen King, whose book It has 472K) and industry recommendations for young adult books, of which mine technically is, range between 40,000-80,000. So, already, I’m sitting pretty high in word count. The goal here is to finish the book, including full editing, by January, putting publication in late January or early February. Right at a year since Taramul Viselor was released.

So, where am I in this deadline time table?

Other than the fact that editing is a beast that takes forever, my problem with this novel is that there’s so much in it. I’m trying to say a lot. Sage should have her own book: she is the character who haunts me the most. She’s the one who I most respond to, and she’s the one who breaks my heart the hardest. Her role is to personify the effects of rape, and of abuse in general. She’s never known kindness. But Jonathan shows her crumbs of it: he gives her a doll, he feeds her, she has access to baths and, generally, Jonathan’s abuse isn’t the same brutal violence she’s always known. Then you have Sierra, who’s just very angry. She’s angry at the world because it’s not a fair place. She’s angry at Jonathan for kidnapping her. She’s angry at River because he called her a name. She’s just mad at the world. She wants to stay energized and fit and fight ready. Brielle is Jonathan’s real target; he’s violent with her, more so than with the others, because he wants her dead. He blames her for everything and, ultimately, Jonathan forces her to watch home movies of River, to read his journal, to constantly be surrounded by the reminder that she‘s the reason he’s dead. This leads to Brielle’s transformation from a stable, normal girl to a desperate teenager questioning her worth. Willow’s flaws become a physical scar that causes her to question all that’s known; she becomes despondent. Finally, Eden, the girl from the family of pretenders, the smart kid, cares only about escape. Each of them bring something to the main theme of the story but having a lot of storylines going on means I have to work really hard to make sure that each of those storylines converge into one.

Tonight, the goal was to finish the “Main Sequence” (each section of the book is named after a phase in a star’s life) editing. Only, it meant reading two of Sage’s chapter’s. And that made me emotional, and made me start thinking. Thinking of all the things I’m trying to say with each of the books. Wondering if my writing is any good at all; doubting it is. But, as I thought that, another thought came: whether it’s good or not, hopefully the passion shines. See, I’m vocal about my writing not to give myself a pat on the back, not to make a single red cent, not even so that I can talk about my past. No, I’m vocal about my writing, and how much it means to me, because I truly, honestly, believe that it gave me a lifeline when I was going through trauma. I’m vocal about writing because I believe that every single human alive has something that can help her overcome trauma, too. I’m not special: if God gave me a talent, He gave you one, too. And passion can inspire people to look inward: passion can motivate someone to pick up a once-loved-now-dusty habit; and, if that happens, maybe a door to hope opens.

Writing lights my heart with joy. It does not matter if I’m any good at it or not. Sure, I want to be. Sure, I try to make it interesting and, sure, little bursts of confetti float all through my system whenever I see reviews pop up anywhere (I about cried when I realized Dance For Me has about 2,000 reviews between the US and UK Amazon sites). In the end, though, I’ve been writing since I was five years old: I’d write even if no one read a word. There are far more gifted writers than me… but my passion for storytelling, and for what it can do for you, is big. It matters, and it fills me with energy to share it. When I was kid, I finished reading a book and I waltzed into the kitchen and told my mother, I can do that! And that moment forever altered my life by giving me something that I loved so much I learned to rely on it when I was hurting. If I can do it, you can do it. If it’s not storytelling, maybe it’s music. Maybe you have an idea for a business and you know how to make it work. Maybe you’re like the teenager in my hometown who organized the largest, peaceful rally after Floyd’s death: she’s an innate leader. Maybe you write melodies or draw sketches that look like photographs. Maybe you’ve always had an urge to go to Africa and make a difference there; maybe you wish you’d finished college because you just know you’d be a great teacher. When people say talent, they think of the arts, but the arts are only one type of talent. What’s yours?

As a progress report goes, I think I’m on track to finishing “on time” for this book. Juggling a full-time job, volunteer commitments, being a mom, and whatever else means that sometimes writing is a luxury that’s hard to squeeze into the day. But it’s worth it. Because doing that which makes us happy is like refilling our hearts with sunshine. And sunshine, you know, is energy. Investing in that which rejuvenates helps me maintain an optimistic outlook on life, even when it’s hard. It pushes me to remember that which is important which, in turn, feeds the passion I have to keep vocalizing my story, and sharing my writing. When it’s real, passion is contagious. It spreads, and combats hopelessness one person at a time. Each life matters. Each heart matters. You don’t have to reach millions to make a difference. See, my hope isn’t so much that the stories–my story–reach thousands; my hope, my passion, is in being the wind beneath the wings for just one. Everything I do is done mindfully, intentionally. Everything I do is done prayerfully, trusting in His timing for me to do the right workshop / signing / speaking engagement / book release at the right time at the right place so that the right person might hear. To be the spark for one is more important to me than to be entertainment for hundreds.

River’s Rowan isn’t far from being done. It starts getting real when AR copies go out (which will be soon, so get ready!) and press releases are sent out. Five hundred plus pages of my heart, addressing questions like what does it mean to be bullied? what does it look like to be brainwashed? what does it mean to survive that which cannot be survived? what’s the culture of high school really teaching our kids? what is sacrifice? It will be the thirteenth book published, and the one hundred twentieth written. I’ll continue editing–altering sentence structures, getting rid of the (billions) of unnecessary commas (I like to throw them in just wherever I see fit, don’t judge me), nitpicking how “strong” or passive my verb choices are, adding paragraphs and deleting pages–because I want the finished product to match as closely as I can the story the characters tell me. In the end, though, I’m most excited about the conversations I hope the book inspires, the connections with others it’ll help me form, and the stories from readers like you that I hope will be shared with me.