Thinkingdog Publishing

Friends, readers, fellow caffeine-dependent life forms— This is your friendly neighborhood author reporting live from... somewhere just shy of the Arctic Circle. Okay, maybe not that far north, but it feels like it. Especially when your only connection to civilization involves plugging in the Starlink and hoping the squirrels don’t chew through the cable. Now, you know me. I’m all about showing up, putting on the writing pants (they're stretchy, obviously), and getting the words down. I love a good “sit down and do the thing” moment. That’s my jam. But sometimes, you’ve got to do something radical. You have to... stop. I know. Take a breath. I’ll wait while you recover from that bombshell. Truth is, the creative well doesn’t refill itself, especially not when I’m knee-deep in deadlines, plotting magical mysteries, and making sure Pixie the Papillon doesn’t unionize for more treats and magical screen time. So I did something wild: I packed up, left the to-do list behind...