Rise. A Literary Comeback.
Creator: Francis Barber 1770s | Credit: Wikimedia Commons
“This 2025 literary comeback draws from a journey of sorrow, discovery—yet above all, pure bliss.”
The patterns were off. Imbalanced.
A disruption in the force.
I did not publish a single story in 2024. For the first time in four years, I “failed” to deliver yearly.
Financial woes, ever-increasing responsibilities as a father and mentor… Eventually, I had to step away from publishing to focus on addressing what unraveled here at home.
It was painful. I felt like I risked losing momentum—as if I would gradually fade into oblivion. A distinct memory very few would cherish.
As independent authors, we are often led to believe that we cannot afford the privilege of disappearing for a couple of years. That our readership would not display this kind of commitment to our catalogue. No writers’ retreat for us!
I’ll let you in on a secret: many indies favor quantity/volume over quality for that very reason. They share the conviction that pumping out a high volume of formulaic, literary cannon fodder will keep them fed.
And the numbers do support that. Most successful indies write to market drivers, are concentrated in Romantasy, Smut, and Hood Romance, and average five to six titles a year.
Mind you, this observation is in no way, shape, or form a jab at this particular subset of writers. Everyone should be given the chance to enjoy what they enjoy. Judgment-free.
But that led me to a life-altering discovery: success is relative.
Conditioned to perform above expectations and provide with no return on investment (especially as a man in a world where intersectionality in feminism is quite selective), I often believed that my success in publishing had to mirror my burgeoning corporate career. That my books needed to satisfy sales K(ey) P(erformance) I(ndicator)s to carry some semblance of value.
I was under the impression that my worth as an author resided in unit sales, click-through conversions, and engagement rates.
And then, as I was forced to screech to a halt and pivot, I began pondering my last four years in the creative writing microcosm: variables like the relation between my efforts and associated rewards, profits and losses, the expectations I had set for my career over a five-year window, the current state of my catalogue.
I underwent a major rebranding, resumed writing (in the shadows), and got my personal affairs in order.
I mentioned it a few times in prior articles: I made peace with the fact that my process wasn’t sustainable.
I needed to love myself before considering being loved proper.
So I set off on a joyful chase. I fell in love with the process once more.
Fewer releases. Documenting my process. Having fun experimenting with various genres and fully leaning into the very militant spirit that inhabits my bones…
I’m back. Better than ever (!)
And this summer marks my authorial return.
Last week, I announced my new title: The Hourglass Network.
A spy epic spanning the globe, shadowy figures, and a large-scale threat. Add a soupçon of mysticism…
Pre-orders will be available shortly. Looking forward to this new phase of my career.
I AM BACK.
(Hey Momma.)
