Writing a novel isn’t a straight line: it’s a carnival ride. One moment you’re strapped into something that feels predictable, and the next you’re upside down, hair flying, clutching the safety bar and thinking, “Wait… this wasn’t on the map.”
They say the magic is in the rewrite. I’ve always nodded along to that idea: it’s a truism of the writing world, a polite way of acknowledging that first drafts are rarely flawless. But recently, while deep in the weeds of revisions on Ephemeris, I’ve had a realization that’s left me energized. This isn’t just polish… it’s transformation.