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Last month I released my first book in over two years. On top of that, I have my next one done and am working through notes from my editor now and hope to have it ready to go early next year, and I’m well on my way into yet another novel. 

I wrote for my dad. He was my audience of one, the only one I cared about. His life was centered around books, and I believe the day my first book came out was the proudest he’d ever been of me. 

Then I lost my audience of one. And with it, my desire to write. Not even that. My ability to write. 

It took a long time for me to find my way again. That finally came in the form of dusting off a book I had finished right around the time he passed, the fourth book in my Eddie Holland detective series, Ruby Rising. It sat a long time waiting to be revived, refreshed, and released. It took a couple of readings to get me back into it and to connect with my characters again, but it finally happened. 

In that process, I feel I finally found the way to write for myself. 

Now it feels to be full steam ahead, once again. My next book, already back from my editor, is my second middle grade fiction children’s book. I love writing for that age group, and this one is set to be the first in a series (for which I’m also considering using a different author name to differentiate from my other decidedly non-kid-oriented books, I’m looking at you, The More a Thing is Perfect).

In releasing Ruby Rising, I found the enjoyment and drive again. Hearing friends and family telling me how much they enjoyed it sure doesn’t hurt, either. I have received text messages and calls with positive notes that pushes me to keep on going. 

I am far from getting rich off my writing. Most months I’m lucky to buy myself a smoothie with my royalties. Making a living off writing would be wonderful, but for now, I am happy that a few people are enjoying reading my books. 

I’m looking forward to a great 2024 with at least one book release, and hopefully finding more new readers.