Since I’m drawing a blank on what to write about today, I thought I’d simply speak my mind.

Things are calm on the writing side of life, at least for now — and I suppose that’s a good thing in itself. As the saying goes, no news is good news. Then again, the same collective wisdom also gave us great minds think alike and fools seldom differ, so perhaps that cancels things out. This is probably why I tend to avoid famous quotes altogether.

The other day I was outside fixing loose grout between the tiles when my landlord walked past and announced, “There’s no rest for the wicked.”

Being a writer, I replied, “Says the devil who reeks of it.”

He went pale, as if he’d misplaced his soul somewhere behind the wheelie bins, and hurried off. It was months before I saw him again. These days we communicate mostly via WhatsApp, which suits me just fine.

My writing is going well, I think.

I’m currently working on a sequel to Elm Brook Manor. Although it didn’t receive the best reviews, it remains my bestselling book, with The Haunting of Serpent’s Manor close behind, quietly narrowing the gap. Every time I think, this is the day it overtakes it, Elm Brook Manor surprises me with another sale or two. It’s as if the book has developed a competitive streak of its own.

One reviewer said the characters felt alive — especially Coby McTavish — “the sort you’re not supposed to like, but somehow can’t help it.” Comments like that make me absurdly happy, because it’s exactly how I imagined him. To know readers experience him the same way feels like a small miracle.

I’ve chosen the title Serenity Falls for the sequel — the name of the mysterious gothic town in Elm Brook Manor, which also makes a brief appearance in The Haunting of Serpent’s Manor. A few readers have told me they love the name and feel it suits the story, so I’m reusing it in the hope that it resonates just as strongly this time.

It carries a different weight in the new book, and I’m aiming for a welcoming surprise in the ending… assuming I don’t trip over my own excitement.

Which brings me to endings.

I think I’ve finally figured out why so many of us struggle with them. As the conclusion approaches, excitement takes over, judgement slips, and suddenly we’re sprinting instead of walking. It nearly happened to me recently — I almost missed a crucial detail and had to drag myself back a few chapters by the collar. I’ve abandoned otherwise wonderful books because of rushed endings, and I came dangerously close to committing the same crime myself.

Things are going rather well overall.

Sales are noticeably better than this time last year. My books now appear to be doing most of the work on their own. I used to spend hours promoting them on social media; these days I barely need to.

It feels strange to say this, but I think I’ve reached one of those quiet “breakthrough” moments authors dream about. I credit a large part of it to finally understanding what The McTavish Chronicles needed: a clear entry point, a sense of continuity, and a world readers could step into and recognise.

And then there’s The Haunting of Serpent’s Manor, which has somehow gathered eleven five‑star reviews and more kind feedback than my fragile writer’s heart knows how to process. I poured a great deal of time and research into that story, blending folklore — like the hitchhiking lady — with invention. As they say, truth is stranger than fiction. Wink.

Oh — and I almost forgot.

I have my first fan.

That sentence still feels surreal to type.

It began with a single email, and then another, and now we exchange messages fairly often. She sends photos of herself reading my books, sometimes even proudly holding them up for the camera. I always reply. I enjoy our little conversations.

No, no — not like that. I’m just bashful.

It’s something I never expected, and I’m still learning how to hold it properly without dropping it. Years ago I admired authors from a distance and never once thought of writing to them. Indie authors feel more approachable somehow, don’t they? I encourage it, honestly. Word‑of‑mouth is the best kind of magic, and the cheapest kind of marketing.

I’ll be signing her books soon and sending them back.

Thank you for the joy, Ruby — that’s what I call you when I talk about you to everyone else.

Reading, of course, remains my other great obsession.

Lately I’ve discovered wonderful work by Eva Pasco, O.J. Barré, Martin J. Best, Kristina Gallo, Colin Garrow, Christopher Scott Dixon, and many others. Their books inspire me, steady me, and quietly remind me why I fell in love with stories in the first place.

People often ask how I read so quickly. The answer is the Kindle app’s Word Runner feature. I use it on the treadmill, while cooking, watering the garden, even while watching television — one eye on the screen. If my phone were waterproof, I’d read in the shower too.

I am, without shame, a word addict.

Another author recently called me a “book bum,” which feels accurate enough to embroider onto a cushion.

And that, as they say with a touch of British flair, is that.

Thank you for reading. Truly. It means more than I know how to phrase neatly.

For those who are curious, I’m aiming to release Serenity Falls in early March and will share updates as it comes together. My wife is already vibrating with anticipation — she’s endured the entire emotional weather system: laughter, despair, shouting at imaginary characters, and long silences in doorways.

Even so, I’m proud of this one.

We writers can only hope — and hope, I think, is what keeps us steady, keeps us writing, and occasionally keeps us sane.

I love you all, more than words can reasonably manage.

Sending kisses.

Mwah.

See you soon.