Thinkingdog Publishing

 There is a moment — somewhere between hitting "publish" and refreshing your sales dashboard for the seventeenth time in a single afternoon — where you realize something: you can do everything right and still have absolutely no control over the outcome. You can write a great book, the kind where you sit back after the final sentence and think, well, that was mildly brilliant, someone alert the literary authorities. You can edit it within an inch of its life, polishing every comma, wrestling every sentence into submission, whispering sweet motivational speeches to your manuscript at 2AM while cradling a cup of tea that went cold hours ago.  You can position it and promote it and send it out into the world dressed in its very best metaphorical outfit. And still, none of it belongs to you once it leaves your hands.  You don't control the reviews. You don't control the rankings. You don't control whether people get it — and that last one, I'll admit, carries a...

You ever notice the meanness authors pour on other authors on social media just now? Like they are thinking - “But what if other authors are my competition?” Nope. Not today. Not in this cozy, coffee-fueled universe. ☕️ If you’re an author, and your friends are authors, congratulations—you’ve accidentally built yourself a dream team. They’re not your competition. They’re your brainstorming buddies when your plot goes sideways, your cheerleaders when you hit “publish” and immediately want to hide under a blanket, your reality checks when your villain starts sounding a little too reasonable, and your emergency chocolate providers (this one is non-negotiable) Here’s the thing: readers don’t read just one book. They’re not out there saying, “Well, I’ve read ONE mystery novel, that’s enough for my entire life.” No. Readers are glorious little book dragons, hoarding stories like treasure. 🐉📖 When you support another author, you’re not losing anything—you’re expanding the ent...

There was a time I wanted my writing to sparkle — every sentence polished like a diamond, every metaphor clever enough to make my English teacher rise from her chair in slow applause. I’d tinker with sentences for hours, swapping “walked” for “meandered” or “ambled,” then back again, trying to sound like A Serious Author™. You know the type. The kind who drinks coffee with too much intensity and uses “juxtaposition” in casual conversation. But somewhere between the endless editing and the overthinking, I realized something uncomfortable: I was writing to impress other writers, not to move readers. It hit me one day when my best friend — not a writer, not even a big reader — read a scene from one of my drafts and said quietly, “That part made me cry.” She didn’t care about my sentence rhythm. She didn’t notice the metaphor I’d sweated over for an hour. She felt something. And that’s when I understood: readers don’t fall in love with your words. They fall in love with your truth. We...

Let me tell you a tale. Not one of haunted teapots or talking Papillon dogs (although Pixie would like a word), but of the realest mystery of all: how on earth I write books. You see, I used to be what we in the wild world of writing call a “pantser.” That’s right. No outline. No plan. No safety net. Just me, a cup of coffee, a keyboard, and a deeply misplaced confidence that the story would figure itself out. And for a long time, that worked. After all, I write about magic. My characters talk to ghosts, solve murders with help from enchanted pets, and navigate small-town charm with a sprinkle of witchiness. If ever there were stories that wanted to make their own decisions, it’s mine. Half the time, I’m just along for the ride while my characters whisper, “Step aside, mortal. We’ve got this.” But now? I’m on book eight of the Magical Papillon Mysteries . Six. That’s practically a small town of books. And let me tell you—by the time your characters have investigated a half-do...

Structure. Just saying it out loud feels… mildly offensive . Like a distant relative showing up uninvited with a casserole. The kind of thing I absolutely rebelled against when I was seventeen. “Structure? Pfft. I don’t need no structure!” I shouted, probably in front of a mirror, probably with eyeliner smudged from some dramatic emotional revelation about freedom and individuality. And yet… here we are. Seventeen, eighteen… I’ve lost count of how many books I’ve written. And as I click open the latest Word document, my gut does a little shiver of recognition. Structure is actually… useful. There, I said it. Useful. Shocking, I know. Structure keeps you on track. It prevents that horrifying moment where you sit at your keyboard, staring blankly at the blinking cursor, muttering, “How does this story continue now?” It’s like the invisible hand holding a leash on your runaway imagination, and for once, it’s a leash you don’t entirely mind. But the real magic? Structure tells you wh...

Let me tell you a little secret about being an author. It’s not glamorous. It’s not all sipping lattes in quaint bookstores while scribbling in leather-bound notebooks. And it’s definitely not an express ticket to fame. There’s this myth floating around that writing one book—just one—will turn you into the next literary sensation. That you'll hit publish, wake up the next morning with a fan club, a movie deal, and Oprah knocking on your door. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… nope. That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. The Reality: Years of Writing (and Rewriting… and Crying… and More Writing) I’ve been writing since I was fourteen. That’s a lot of years spent typing away, dreaming up characters, and questioning my life choices when a plot hole the size of Texas appears out of nowhere. I have thirteen books on Amazon. That sounds impressive, right? But what if I told you that lurking in the depths of my hard drive are twenty-five first drafts th...

  Let’s talk about one of the most ridiculous struggles of writing a book. No, I’m not talking about the part where you stare at the blinking cursor like it personally insulted your ancestors. I’m talking about naming characters. It should be easy, right? Just slap a name on them and move on? Oh, my sweet summer child. If only. See, naming a character is like naming your kid—except worse, because nobody is going to complain if your kid and their cousin both end up being named Liam. But if your main villain is named Liam and you accidentally give the quirky coffee shop owner in book three the same name? Cue the existential crisis. Let’s walk through the madness. The Overthinking Spiral of Doom You start writing, and there’s that moment: your brand-new character walks onto the page, full of potential. All they need is a name. A simple name. Something strong, something fitting, something— Oh no. Nothing sounds right. This one is too complicated. That one is too simple. ...

As authors, we all have our unique creative rhythms. Some thrive in the quiet of the night, while others find their muse in the hustle and bustle of the day. For me, inspiration strikes best in the early morning—around 6 AM. Yes, I know what you're thinking: Who in their right mind is up and writing at 6 AM? But growing up in a German household, early mornings were non-negotiable. Those structured, disciplined mornings shaped my work ethic, and now, they've become my secret weapon for creative flow. There’s something magical about that time of day—the world is still, distractions are minimal, and the mind feels sharp, almost untouched by the chaos that builds as the hours pass. In those golden hours, I find clarity, focus, and an endless stream of ideas that I’d struggle to access later in the day. By the time the afternoon rolls around, I feel my concentration dip, and I know it’s time to shift gears. Instead of forcing creativity, I switch to tasks that require less of that ...

As an indie author, you’ve likely been through the rollercoaster of writing your manuscript. There are moments of inspiration and creativity, followed by hours spent on editing, rewriting, and perfecting each sentence. But before you dive headfirst into the next stage of the process—editing—there’s one crucial question you need to ask yourself: Is your book truly finished? It’s an essential question that every writer, whether they’re indie or traditionally published, needs to answer honestly. But what if you’re not sure? What if your manuscript still feels incomplete or rough around the edges? Don’t panic—you’re not alone, and this feeling is part of the process. The truth is, many authors face this uncertainty. Even after months (or years) of work, the question of whether the book is truly “finished” can feel daunting. The good news is, if you’re not sure, there’s a solution: this is the perfect time to reach out for support from a book coach or a writing group. How to Tell if...