One Year Later

The year I realized I was already building the life I dreamed about.

A year ago, I made a decision.

Not a New Year’s resolution.
Not a passing thought.
Not another hobby I hoped would stick.

I decided that at thirty-five, I was going to give being an indie author everything I had.

At the time, that dream felt simple.

Write a book.
Publish a book.
See what happens.

I had no idea that decision would quietly change the direction of my life.

When I started 2025, I thought I was chasing a goal.

Looking back now, I can see I was stepping into a new career without realizing it.

Somewhere between writing chapters, learning self-publishing, designing covers, building a website, and introducing readers to Baby Girl, something shifted.

I stopped thinking like someone trying to publish one book.

I started thinking like someone building a lifetime of stories.

Publishing my first novel felt like crossing a finish line.

Instead, it was the starting line.

Twenty-nine weeks later, readers I have never met have found my story.

Some through TikTok.

Some through Amazon.

Some because they stumbled across a book with a girl sitting on a dock and decided to give it a chance.

Those moments may seem small from the outside.

To me, they mean everything.

Because every sale is proof that these stories are beginning to find the people they were written for.

The biggest surprise wasn’t publishing.

It was what happened after.

I thought I was building one series.

Instead, I found myself building an entire universe.

Characters began connecting to one another.

Families stretched across generations.

Businesses, organizations, and histories formed around them.

One story became another.

Then another.

Today, nearly one hundred characters call the Daughters of Violence Universe home.

Some you’ve met.

Many are still waiting patiently for their turn.

If you’ve been reading these Author Journals for a while, you’ve probably noticed a pattern.

I don’t build quickly.

I build deeply.

That’s true in my writing.

It’s true in my business.

And it’s true in my life.

For a long time, I thought I needed to keep up with everyone else.

Publish faster.

Write more.

Always be producing.

Instead, I’ve learned that my pace is part of the story I’m building.

One of the biggest gifts this year has given me is perspective.

My daughter graduates high school in 2031.

By then, I’ll be forty-one.

When I think about that now, I don’t see a deadline.

I see six more years of growing this universe.

Six more years of learning.

Six more years of writing stories that ask readers to look a little deeper.

That realization changed everything.

I’m no longer hoping a creative life might be possible someday.

I’m actively building it.

There are still days I question myself.

Days where writing feels slow.

Days where life asks more from me than creativity can give.

But those days don’t carry the same fear they once did.

Because now I know something I didn’t know a year ago.

Progress isn’t always measured by what you finish.

Sometimes it’s measured by what you’re willing to keep building.

Looking back, I don’t think this year was really about publishing my first book.

It was about becoming the kind of person who keeps showing up for the stories she believes in.

Piece by piece.

Chapter by chapter.

Year by year.

And maybe that’s what authorship really is.

Not one book.

Not one launch.

But choosing, over and over again, to keep building something you hope will outlive you.

As I step into another year of life, that’s exactly what I intend to keep doing.

Quietly.

Intentionally.

One story at a time.

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