Blog

Someone asked me last week why I bother writing back to newsletter replies when the list is not small any more. The honest answer is that it is the only part of this job that feels like the kitchen table where I started.

So: if a book stayed with you, hit reply. It comes to me, not to a void.

Revisions on book three are underway. Progress is measured in scenes that finally work rather than words, which makes for a terrible progress bar but a better book.

Winterberry Lane is set at Christmas, which means I have been writing snow in August with the fan on.

Three books deep into a run of quiet ones. There is a kind of novel that does not raise its voice and still leaves a mark, and I have been chasing that feeling all summer.

I write about what I am reading in the letter every other Thursday, usually with more enthusiasm than restraint.

Book two is live. Orchard Road has been the hardest and the most fun thing I have written, mostly because Nate refused to cooperate for about four months.

If you read it and it landed, a few honest words on the retailer page help more than you would think. And if you spot a typo, tell me gently.