General thoughts

There are moments when life feels like it’s handing you a metaphor with a bow on it. Last Friday, somewhere between Dijon and the Italian border, we had one of those moments. We’d pumped up a flat tyre the night before, hoping it would magically behave itself for the long drive. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

One of the constants in my writing life is that real experiences are fundamental in my fiction. Sometimes it’s a location I know well. Sometimes it’s a conversation I once had, or a character trait borrowed from someone I met years ago. It’s never a direct lift, and it’s never the whole story. But on The Story Behind My Stories, there isn’t that same layer of distance. When I talk about what inspired a scene or why a character behaves the way they do, I’m talking about the re

People often assume writers know the ending from the moment they begin. As if the story arrives fully formed, waiting to be typed up in a neat, linear line from Chapter One to The End. But that’s not how it works. Not for me, and not for most writers I know.

And when I write, whether it’s crime fiction, travel‑infused adventure, or the behind‑the‑scenes stories that shaped them, those places come back to life. They remind me who I was, what I felt and why the story mattered in the first place.

Lately, my writing life has stopped behaving like tidy shelves labelled “fiction” and “non‑fiction”. Instead, everything seems to be talking to each other — ideas crossing over, themes echoing, one project nudging another awake. And honestly, I’m enjoying the chaos.

a good review is worth its weight in gold. Not because it feeds an ego or ticks a box, but because it represents something far more meaningful—a reader who connected with the story I poured my heart into.

The last two weeks have been a lesson I didn’t expect to learn this year, how to stop. I went into surgery knowing recovery would take time, but I underestimated just how much my body—and especially my head—would insist on complete stillness.

So yes, the fervour around KU and AI is real. But my response is simple: I will keep writing from the raw, unfiltered truth of my own experience. Because that is the one thing AI can never replicate.

Thai Die is a strong start to my series, and visibility matters. Getting it into the hands of readers is the ultimate goal.

We pause to remember the courage and selflessness of those who served.

When I first became a writer, I thought I was a content creator. And I was—original content, the written word, the story itself. The book was the content. Simple. Pure. Mine. But no one tells you that once you publish, the content creation doesn’t end there. In fact, it multiplies.

There’s something magical about the first draft. It’s not polished, not perfect—but it’s alive.

So today’s post is a gentle nudge, for you and for me. To let October do what it does best, soften the edges. Slow the breath. Remind us that creativity isn’t always about pushing forward. Sometimes it’s about pausing long enough to let the light in. 

There’s a particular kind of chaos that comes with writing more than one book at a time.

Travel doesn't just inspire me. It immerses me in the sensory details that makes my fiction feel alive.

Driving to Crete with Rupert for a writing retreat—ferries, road trip tales, and fresh inspiration for my next crime novel.

Setting a word count to write to was uplifting instead of stifling my creativity

Marketing Scams to avoid as an indie author

Slowing down to bring in abundance

Managing a corporate team or a police investigation its all the same when it comes to dealing with different characters.