As I’ve limped and rested and brain-fogged my way toward some new version of normal again, I keep coming back to a single image. One that’s followed me through more than one collapse in my life.

The Tower.

I’m excited to announce that, coming Fall 2026, people will finally be able to meet Bea, Vivian, Taylor, and the rest of Fairview, NY. When Stars Disappear will be hitting bookshelves just in time for the cozy months, so keep an eye out for future announcements and updates about my debut novel.

There’s a common message they all seemed to communicate in on way or another, and it’s summed up nicely by Alysa Liu. I have a feeling many of her fellow Olympians share this perspective.

It really is difficult to nail down exactly what I loved about this one, because it’s literally the overall story itself. It’s the way it’s written. It’s the melancholic, lonely feeling of it. It’s the expansive, life-spanning nature of it. It’s the way it still manages to feel intimate despite its scope. It’s everything.

I’ve always written as a way to understand and express humanity, whereas now it feels more like I write as a way to connect with and celebrate it. That shift feels important.

We’re only a few days into the new year, and we’ve awoken this week to yet more news of chaos in the world. So, I’m scrapping my planned post in favor of sharing a short missive on the central theme of my life at the moment. I am becoming water.