The Season Where I Slowed Down

What Slowing Down Taught Me About Building Something That Lasts

There is a strange clarity that comes when you realize you are not moving at the same speed as the crowd.

I see authors publishing back-to-back books.
Rapid releases.
Stacked launches.
Momentum everywhere.

For a moment, I thought,
I know my storyline.
I know my characters.
I can knock this out.

For a while, I measured progress by output.
Because it was trending.
Because it looked like what authors were “supposed” to do.

I even shared on TikTok that I was going to change the website by Valentine’s Day.

That didn’t happen.

And the question shifted.

Not:
Why am I behind?

But:
Why am I trying to harvest in someone else’s season?

The Weight of What I’m Building

I’m not building a single storyline.

I’m building the Daughters of Violence Universe.

And a universe is not a hobby project.

It’s an ecosystem.

An intertwined web of stories, bloodlines, psychology, trauma, healing, power, consequence, and legacy.

That carries weight.

Not “box yourself in” weight.

Deadlift weight.

The kind that requires form.
Breath.
Core strength.

If you rush it, you injure yourself.

Summer 2025 is when DOVU shifted from a seed to a wildfire crop.
Not because I pushed it.
But because I had space.

Space to flow.
Space to think.
Space to expand.

Baby Girl was written in October 2023.
Gone Bad draft one in early 2024.
Draft two in summer 2024.
Baby Girl edited and published in 2025.
Gone Bad revised October 2025.
Fall 2025 is when the other books revealed themselves.

Not because I forced them.

Because the ground was ready.

Right now, half my field is preparing for the next harvest.
The other half is being tilled for planting.

That isn’t failure.

That’s farming.

Gone Bad Isn’t Broken

Gone Bad isn’t stalled.

It’s in early pregnancy.

And I know that season well.

When I built my first business over a decade ago, I treated it the only way I knew how — like raising a child.

Ideas swirl.
You nurture them quietly.
You screen for what works and what doesn’t.
You protect the fragile stage before announcing anything big.

The first trimester of anything real is rarely loud.

It’s careful.
Intentional.
Sometimes uncomfortable.

That’s where Gone Bad is.

It isn’t delayed.

It’s forming organs.

When I built AMVS, my kids were little.
Nap-time power hours.
Late-night emails.
Working in the margins of motherhood.

Now?

I have juniors in high school and a seventh grader.

Parenting requires something different.

Less hands-on survival.
More guidance.
More presence.
Different emotional weight.

And because of that shift —
I finally have space.

Real space.

Not stolen minutes.

Not exhaustion-fueled bursts.

Space that allows DOVU to expand the way it was always meant to.

Authorship is growing alongside my children.

And this time, I’m not building from survival.

I’m building from legacy.

That changes everything.

Beyond Hobby Writing

Restructuring Gone Bad, with its multi-POV approach, pushed me beyond hobbyist writing.

This isn’t “write it, edit it, publish it.”

This is research.
Psychology.
Voice differentiation.
Master lists.
Emotion thesaurus.
Craft refinement.

I don’t want my books to be mid (as my kids would say).

I want them to be soul-deep.

I want readers who relate to my characters to feel seen — not entertained and forgotten.

That requires depth.

And depth requires slowing down.

The Guilt of Slowing

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t guilt.

Shame.
Disappointment.

It’s been two months since publishing Baby Girl.
It’s sold once.

I haven’t been aggressively promoting.
I haven’t been flooding content.

And strangely… I’m not angry.

Because I know what I’m building.

I’m not in a rebuilding season.

I’m in a cultivation season.

Quiet does not mean stopping.
Quiet does not mean unproductive.

It means space.

Space for expansion.
Space for growth beyond my current vision.

This is not hustle culture.

This is sustainable authorship.

Mother First. Human Always.

I am still a mother first.

That will always shape my timeline.

But more than that — I am human.

Writing from the depths I write from requires:

Rest.
Recharge.
Self-awareness.
Emotional processing.
Honesty.

With myself.
With my readers.
With the story.

I am only 35 (something I never thought I’d get to say).

But a lot of maturing has happened since early 2025.

I am a perfectly imperfect, always evolving version of myself.

Just like my ebooks are perfectly imperfect versions of my stories.

The Tortoise and the Hare

There’s a reason the tortoise wins.

Not because he is faster.

Because he is steady.

The hare burns hot.

The tortoise builds endurance.

The Daughters of Violence Universe is not a sprint.

It is my life’s work.

And if someone finds my books today or ten years from now, the depth will be there waiting for them.

This isn’t a short-burst hobby.

This is a long road.

And I’m walking it with intention.

If you’re here for the steady build instead of the fast flash —
Thank you.

You matter in this season more than you know.

✍🏻 AM — Grounded in raw. Real. Grit. Healing.