What Comes After Publishing

Building, Stabilizing, and Living in the In-Between

I’ve built businesses before.

Over a decade ago, when I started my first home business, someone told me to “treat it like a business.”
That advice didn’t land.

I didn’t know how to do that yet.

What I did know was how to raise kids.

At the time, I was a young mom with little ones at home. I built that business the same way I built my life—during nap times, in short power hours, following up when my husband got home from work. It grew as my skills grew. It evolved as my kids did.

Looking back, being a teen mom helped more than I realized.

Every project I take on still follows that same internal rhythm.
I don’t think in quarters or funnels first.
I think in life cycles.

How I Understand Creation

Every endeavor I commit to feels like birthing something.

Not metaphorically. Practically.

• Conception (0–9 months)
  Ideas spiral. Vision forms. Nothing is clear, but everything feels possible.

• Birth
  The launch. The moment something becomes real and visible.

• Infancy
  Testing what works. Learning what doesn’t. No sleep. A lot of adjustment.

• Toddlerhood
  Taking on too much. Learning limits the hard way.

• Ages 4–5
  Structure appears. Systems matter. This is a scale or break.

• Ages 6–10
  The fun years. Creativity expands. You absorb so much from your environment and connections.

• Ages 11–15
  Growth accelerates. What doesn’t fit falls away. Confidence replaces constant second-guessing.

• Ages 16–18
  The questioning phase. Do you continue? Do you pivot?
  No wrong answers. Just ownership.

This framework has never failed me.

Until I applied it to being an author.

What I Didn’t Expect in 2025

In 2025, I gave authorship my full effort.

I learned what foundations I needed.
What systems I already knew how to build.
What would support me long-term as both a creator and a parent.

What I didn’t realize was that:

• Writing a book would turn into writing a universe

• Characters would cross over and interlock

• This would stop being “a project” and become a vocation

• I would quietly change careers without ever announcing it

The simple path—write, edit, publish, sell—expanded into something living.

The Daughters of Violence Universe wasn’t planned.
It emerged.

And with that emergence came a new phase I wasn’t prepared for.

The In-Between (Where I Am Now)

After publishing, there’s a phase no one talks about.

It’s not rest.
It’s not momentum.
It’s not burnout either.

It’s recalibration.

I’m not rebuilding my foundations—they’re solid.
My systems work.
My boundaries protect my role as a present parent first.

This is a strange limbo.

I can see where I’m going.
I also know the distance between here and there is larger than it looks.

Instead of resisting it, I chose to sit here.

I embraced the in-between.

What This Pause Is (and Isn’t)

This pause is not doubt.

I don’t question my creativity.
I don’t question my ability to write.
I don’t question my commitment to the DOVU.

It’s ingrained in me.
As natural as water being wet.

I have seven active works-in-progress right now.
Every single one traces back to Baby Girl.

Ideas are playing.
Themes are forming.
Some will stick. Some won’t.

That’s exactly how it’s supposed to work.

What I’m not doing is forcing output for the sake of proving momentum.

Why I’m Not Afraid of Time

I don’t feel FOMO here.

If someone finds my book today—or ten years from now—everything I’m building will still be worth it.

This universe is meant to deepen over time.
For the reader.
For me.

Writing may not be flowing like wildfire this winter.

That’s okay.

Right now, I’m building a strong, beautiful home for the Daughters of Violence Universe.
With solid walls.
With wide windows.
With space to look up at the stars and keep dreaming.

This isn’t a hobby.
This is a soul calling.

One I’ll carry for the rest of my life—
after raising my kids,
after living fully,
after honoring every season as it comes.

A Quiet Thank You

If you’re here—whether at the beginning, the middle, or somewhere far down the road—thank you.

Your presence matters more than metrics ever could.

I’m grateful you’re walking beside me, even if our timelines don’t perfectly overlap.

This story isn’t rushed.

And neither am I.

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