Issue #5

September 2026

Better Late Than Never

Yes, I know my newsletter is a little late this month. Between August’s trip to Ireland and England and my family’s trip to the beach a few weeks ago, September has slipped away from me.

I can’t believe it’s been over a month since the Historical Novel Society conference in Maynooth. Overall, I had a fantastic time during my brief stay in Ireland, even if my flight to Dublin was temporarily diverted to Shannon for mysterious reasons and the entire city of Maynooth was without water the day almost everyone arrived for the conference. Those are just minor inconveniences that lead to memorable moments, and my time in Maynooth was certainly memorable.

Key takeaways from the conference include:

• People are still buying books, no matter what the naysayers are telling us.
• Historical fiction is evolving with a changing market, but that doesn't mean it's dead. Readers will always look for a good story, no matter when it's set.
• Romantacy is still popular, and that’s great for us. Folklore, myths, superstitions, and legends from the past can become fantasy elements in historical tales.
• Lean into legends; they reveal deeper truths about time periods.
• It's actually easier to adapt to new trends when you're indie published.
• World-building is key. Readers want to visit a world as much as they want to follow a character on their adventures.
• Sagas are back and so are happy endings!

And with that, we charge ahead, pens in hand.

Reflections

I wish someone had warned me when I first started dreaming about being a writer that it would require growing bulletproof skin.

Or maybe someone did warn me, and I chose not to listen. Maybe I was too busy living in my little fantasy world where the words flowed effortlessly and every story I wrote was automatically acknowledged as brilliant. But it turns out that almost every step of the writing process can bruise your soul and your ego. There’s the critique group, where seven people can read the same manuscript and somehow come away with seven completely different opinions. None of which you share. Then there are the agents who send perfectly kind, professional rejections that still make you question every life choice you’ve ever made. One simple sentence, “The writing just didn’t capture me in the way I’d hoped it would,” is enough to send you into an existential crisis. Do you really have any business calling yourself a writer at all?

And if you’re lucky enough to find someone willing to publish your novel—and an editor who sees its potential—you might think you’ve finally made it past the toughest hurdle. You haven’t. Because next comes the edits, all summarized and bullet-pointed in an editorial letter, sort of a cover letter for creative description. I received my first editorial letter a few weeks ago. Five whole pages of it. Fortunately, I’d received invaluable advice from author J’nell Ciesielski: “When you get your edits, just sit with them for a few days,” so I was prepared when the email landed in my inbox days before I left on vacation.

I still spiraled a little.

Was writing a novel really what I was meant to do? Was it too late to choose an entirely different life aspiration? Then, I realized my editor was right about everything. Every plot hole, every character inconsistency, every place where the story wasn’t quite doing what I thought it was doing. She saw things I couldn’t because I was too close to the work. I reminded myself that she was the reason why I wanted to work with this particular publishing company in the first place. From the moment I met her, I trusted her instincts. I trusted her understanding of story. I trusted that she saw something in my manuscript worth making the effort to polish.

That doesn’t mean the self-doubt and occasional spiraling is a thing of the past. I’ve had to kill a few of my darlings, and it’s every bit as painful as it sounds. Some scenes, characters, and chapters have lived in my head for so long that cutting them feels less like editing and more like cold-blooded murder. But when it comes to art, sacrifices have to be made, and I believe my manuscript will be better for it. As for the thick skin, it will grow.

Craft Corner

It’s time for a little bit of backstory. Or is it?

As writers, we’re often told to begin a novel at the edge of the inciting incident, when the main action is just about to take off. But what happened before that moment? Isn’t it important to give readers some sense of what came before—to set the stage for what's to come?

This is a constant dilemma for most authors, especially those of us writing historical fiction. We need to ground readers in the present while helping them understand the past. How much information do we include, and when? Readers need to understand our characters’ motivations and personalities. Why do they want what they want? Why do they behave the way they do? But we also don’t want to bog them down with backstory or send the narrative wandering off on unnecessary detours.

I’m struggling with this right now, which is why I’m turning to the experts, hoping they can guide me.

One writer who does this beautifully is Maggie O’Farrell. You may be familiar with her novels Hamnet or The Marriage Portrait. I am currently reading her memoir, I Am, I Am, I Am: Seventeen Brushes with Death. Each chapter focuses on one of her near-death experiences. Some of them—especially those involving drowning—left me feeling physically sick. Others left me stunned that such horrific and inhuman things could happen to a person in our own day and age.

And yet, even in the midst of these nail-biting stories, O’Farrell knows when to pause. She might offer a bit of scientific background or slip into a childhood memory without ever losing the momentum of the narrative. It’s masterful. During an emergency cesarean section, for example, as a curtain is drawn across her midsection, she flashes back to the pantomimes she watched as a child, garishly costumed surreal performances that always ended with a boldly lettered “Fire Curtain” falling on the stage. The image is vivid, but what makes it so effective is the way the memory mingles with the immediacy of the moment, connecting the physical experience of the present with a childhood memory rooted in sudden fear.

I’m beginning to understand that these flashbacks work not because they are connected by plot—this happened because that happened—but because they are connected by emotion: she feels this because she once felt this.

My key takeaway from all of this is that backstory doesn’t necessarily need to explain the plot, but it does need to deepen the emotion of the moment we’re already in. I’ll do my best to carry that lesson forward in my own work. But for now, I’m still a student, learning from the masters

NFCR News

Sharing important updates from the National Foundation for Cancer Research.

Tickets are on sale now for the NFCR Global Summit and Award Ceremony for Cancer Research & Entrepreneurship on Friday, October 9.

The NFCR Global Summit is a black-tie event bringing together leading cancer researchers, entrepreneurs, investors, and advocates to shape the future of oncology. The Szent-Györgyi Prize Dinner & Award Ceremony honors groundbreaking discoveries in cancer research that have inspired future innovation.

The Szent-Györgyi Prize for Progress in Cancer Research is named in memory of Dr. Albert Szent-Györgyi, NFCR’s co-founder and 1937 Nobel Laureate, for his study of vitamin C and cell respiration. The prize is a symbol of NFCR’s enduring commitment to uphold Dr. Szent-Györgyi’s vision of curing cancer through innovation and collaboration.

This year's winner is Dr. Michele Carbone, whose groundbreaking discovery that susceptibility to mesothelioma—a rare and lethal cancer of the lining of the lungs and abdomen—can be transmitted through families in a Mendelian fashion, driven by inherited mutations in the gene BAP1 has reshaped our understanding of cancer.

Visit National Foundation for Cancer Research (NFCR) to learn more.

Journal Prompt

When was the last time you took someone’s advice even though you didn’t want to hear it?

My Library

My trip to Ireland and England definitely added to my library. I told myself that I was only allowed to buy one book. I bought four. One book for each bookstore I visited. The perfect souvenir. It seemed like a good idea until I had to pack my suitcase to return home. Packing hack—always bring something you don't mind leaving behind. I traded two pairs of shoes for four new books.

Fludd by Hilary Mantel (purchased at Daunt Books in London).

Brother of the More Famous Jack by Barbara Trapido (purchased at Blackwell's Bookshop in Oxford).

The Fascination by Essie Fox (purchased at the Maynooth Bookshop in Maynooth).

Six Weeks by the Sea by Paula Byrne (purchased at the Book House in Thame).

The Oleander Message

Against the tumultuous backdrop of Regency England, where whispers of rebellion mingle with the opulence of aristocratic estates and industrial greed, August James finds herself entangled in a web of family secrets spanning decades.