I’m often asked, “What’s your next book?” or “What are you working on now?”
And honestly, I’m always grateful when people ask.
The truth is that A Dream I Never Woke From was never meant to be the beginning of a writing career.
It was supposed to be my first and last publication.
I loved this story deeply, and I wanted someone—anyone—to read it.
After many twists and turns, I finally managed to publish it.
That’s why I still want to do everything I can for this book.
I take a long time. I overthink. I don’t move easily from one project to the next.
But because of that, when I truly love a story, I become deeply attached to it.
I pour a great deal of love—and perhaps a little obsession—into it.
That said, I recently finished the draft of another work-in-progress, Colors Left Behind.
When I first started writing it, I thought it might be even more “me” than my first novel.
I was excited to see what it would become.
I’m the type of writer who prefers to know the ending before I begin.
Even so, this manuscript was incredibly difficult to write.
I rewrote it again and again, and somewhere along the way, the feelings that had inspired it began to fade.
What remained on the page no longer felt like words that came from genuine emotion.
They felt like words that had simply been written.
I finished the draft because I wanted to see it through to the end.
But when it was done, I realized I didn’t love it.
Stories may be fiction, but for me, the emotions behind the words must be real.
If I cannot believe in the feelings beneath the story, I struggle to love the work itself.
I once shared the first few chapters on a free platform, but eventually removed them.
At the moment, I have no desire to revise it. I have no desire to reread it.
It may simply fade away quietly, and perhaps that is all right.
Maybe one day I will write another story that I feel compelled to share with the world.
But for that to happen, I think I first have to fall in love with it myself.
I do have another story in mind.
In fact, I already know how it ends.
But for me, knowing the plot is not enough.
I need to feel emotionally connected to the story before I can truly write it.
The characters, their choices, their hopes, their grief—I need to understand those feelings deeply enough that the words feel genuine.
Until that connection happens, the story remains little more than an outline in my head.
So perhaps there will be another book one day.
But if there is, it will probably take me a while.
I’ve learned that I can’t force a story into existence.
I can only wait until it feels real enough to tell.
People may see the two months it took me to draft A Dream I Never Woke From, but not the four years I spent quietly living with the story before I was ready to write it.
Maybe I’m the kind of writer who has to be completely immersed in a story before I can write it.