Posted on January 1st, 2026
The turn of the calendar sneaks up on me every year. One day it’s just another week of work, writing, living, and the next we’re all expected to pause, take stock, and pretend we’ve been thinking clearly about the future this whole time.
Still, this one feels worth stopping for.
In 2025, I realized I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. After years of fits, starts, and detours (which I’ve written about elsewhere), my writing life finally stepped out of the sepia tones and into technicolor.
Pick Up the Pieces, a short story, was published in July, and that felt monumental—the final step from writing for me to writing for everybody. My first novel, The Family, followed in December, turning years of private work into something I could finally hold in my hands. Stories that had lived in my head, in notebooks, and in half-finished drafts crossed the invisible line into the real world. Like Dorothy, I found myself on the road toward Oz, far enough along to wonder whether there’s real magic ahead—or just a man behind a curtain.
None of the success in 2025 happened in isolation. It happened because people connected with the stories, read them, talked about them, shared them, encouraged them, and most importantly, took a chance on me. Some of you have been here since the beginning. Some of you found your way here along the road of your own journeys. Either way, I’m deeply grateful. Writing is solitary. Publishing isn’t. I’ve felt that distinction keenly this year.
Looking ahead, 2026 will be my first full year thinking of myself—without qualifiers—as a writer. That’s both exciting and a little intimidating, which feels like the right mix. My principal goal is simple: finish my second novel, currently operating under the very serious and very temporary name Project Sunset (more on this soon). Along the way, I want to share more short fiction here on the site, and keep this blog active with new posts a couple of times a month. Nothing extravagant. Just steady work, honest effort, and forward motion.
More than anything, I want to keep telling stories. To keep building worlds and characters and sending them out, hoping they find the right readers at the right moment. If 2025 was about proving to myself that I could actually do this, then 2026 will be about doing it with intention, patience, humility, and a little more confidence than I had before.
To the ones who’ve been reading all along: thank you. To the new visitors: welcome. I’m glad you found your way, and I hope you’ll stick around. Before you put your glass down, join me in a toast.
Here’s to a year of wonderful stories—both the ones we get lost in and the ones where we find ourselves. 🥂