When I sent my last newsletter in May, I was working on a manuscript I had committed to finishing and publishing this Fall. But, not long after sending that newsletter, I realized I needed to step back. I was burnt out and so overwhelmed with work that I was paralyzed and couldn’t get a single thing done. A friend suggested I unplug from writing for a few weeks. And while I was reluctant at first, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.
After my break, I started writing…another book. I immediately thought of that infamous line from Friends, when Ross tried to explain to Rachel that he only cheated because “we were on a break.” It turns out that while I was on a break from one manuscript, I had a fling with another one. Awkward, I know.
In all seriousness, setting aside a draft until I can make it work is part of my process. One day, I’ll be able to give that original manuscript the love and attention it needs and deserves. But for now, I’ll keep working on my never-ending to-do list and several other projects, including my third book, launching in May 2026. Stay tuned for the official announcement coming soon. 🙂
Thank you doesn’t seem big enough for how much I appreciate every person who has read my books, written a review, and dropped me a note. I appreciate you coming along while I finally live my dream. Oh, and you might want to hold on because the ride is just beginning.
There are a lot of rules when it comes to writing. Things like, show don’t tell; don’t write a prologue; and get rid of adverbs are just a few of the fun ones we’re bound to beat our heads against a wall about at some point or another.
But the one that gave me the biggest headache had to be this one:
Write what you know.
The first time I heard this nugget in Dr. Raymond’s creative writing class at Stetson a billion years ago, it struck me as ridiculous. It’s called fiction. By its very definition, it is not what I know.
Did Anne Rice know what it was like to be a vampire? Possibly, but unlikely. Was Lee Child a badass ex-MP who went around fighting the powerful? Nope.
It took decades and a lot of grumbling to figure out the real meaning for me was to write the feelings I know. The reasons why characters behave the way they do.
And while I haven’t been an artist, a billionaire playboy, an astronomy professor, or the president—I have been wounded. I’ve lost. I’ve won. I’ve been gutted over grief. I’ve had dreams slip away. I’ve had my heart broken. And I’ve moved on despite it all.
This is what creates a story people stay up late reading because they connect with and feel right along with the characters. It gives them a stake in what happens.
So I guess I’ll keep writing what I know—the heart of the story—because that’s where the real magic happens.
Community has been an integral part of my writing and publishing journey. I would not be doing, well, this if it wasn’t for the women I’ve connected with through the Women’s Fiction Writers Association. Most of whom I’ve only ever met via Zoom Write-Ins.
And four of us did a really, really, cool thing.
Over two years ago, we stayed late after a Friday afternoon Zoom to brainstorm. We were all stuck on projects, so we committed to meeting once a month to bounce ideas around. A few months in, we started talking about the rise of AI (obviously still an ongoing issue in the creative community), and we even fooled around with some fun prompts.
Friends, when like-minded, creative, and passionate people gather, magical things can come out of almost anything.
That one meeting turned into a story idea about four writers who create a book using AI that goes viral and tears them apart.
And that idea evolved into a book we published TUESDAY under the pen name Ivy H. Booker.
THE ACCIDENTAL LIFE OF MF ASCHER is unlike anything we’ve published. We’re branding it dark friendship fiction because of the twist on the typical friendship story. There’s humor, issues about AI in creative spaces, and a little murder thrown in.
Here’s the back cover:
Four writers. Four genres. Four reasons to kill.
When four broke writers meet for their annual retreat in upstate New York, they share it all—insulting rejection letters, crushing disappointments, the projects that almost made it but fell short. With s’mores, too much wine, and the need to let loose, they decide to have some harmless fun and create an outlandish story using AI.
But what starts out as a joke accidentally produces a real book that somehow goes viral and brings an unexpected cash windfall the likes of which they’d never thought possible.
As book sales surge and pressure to maintain their anonymity mounts, they turn against each other, leading to deadly consequences.
In The Accidental Life of MF Ascher, loyalties are tested, reputations are at stake, and revenge is the only way out.
Dark, gripping, and laugh-out-loud funny, this is a novel about friendship and the intoxicating dangers of money, technology, and the blinding quest to succeed at any cost.
Sara LaFontain lives in Arizona, where her husband lovingly supplies her with chocolate to fuel her writing habit. She is the author of the romantic women’s fiction Whispering Pines Island series, and the Corbitt Calamities pop star thrillers. Prior to becoming an author, she held a variety of jobs ranging from the unusual (wildlife tour guide in the Brazilian Pantanal) to the emotional (domestic violence case advocate) to the respectable (attorney). She also works as an Author Accelerator certified book coach.
Julie Mayerson Brown is an author, essayist, and playwright. Her Clearwater Series, five novels and a YA novella, takes place in a charming town in California Wine Country. The books all feature lovable, quirky characters, adorable dogs, best-friendships, and delicious sticky buns. In addition to feel-good stories, she writes book club fiction that delves into darker themes of family dysfunction, betrayal, and suspense. She lives in Los Angeles with her family and a pack of rescued boxers.
ACCORDING TO MY SCIENCE is a book I tried to make work for years and couldn’t until my editing deadline loomed and I had to. That was when I finally stopped focusing on what felt impossible (writing about a brilliant scientist when I am not one) and found the heart of the story:
It takes courage to open yourself up.
To love.
To failure.
To truth.
To success.
To heartbreak.
To joy.
It takes courage to do the thing that sets your soul on fire.
To embrace who you really are.
To live a full and fulfilling life, even when it seems impossible.
These are things I understand very well.
Because the heart of this story is mine. And I bet you’ll find a bit of yourself in it, too.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. I so appreciate you being here. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I do.
Anyone who believes they can’t do something should read 10 Little Rules for a Double-Butted Adventure by Teri M. Brown. In it, she documents her ride across the country on a tandem bike with her husband. Along with the physical toll of riding a tandem bike from Oregon to Washington D.C. (I’m awestruck they did it!!), Brown delves into the mental and emotional challenges she experienced along the way. In doing so, she learned lessons that can be applied to any aspect of life and shares these tidbits of wisdom with humor and heart. We don’t have to ride across the country on a bike to get the valuable insight Brown learned along her journey. Commendable, comical, thoughtful, emotional, and inspirational–10 Little Rules for a Double-Butted Adventure by Teri M. Brown is not only a book–it’s an interactive experience that can help us reshape the way we view the challenges of life.
For me, there is no better feeling than singing and dancing as a collective. Energy surges. Joy is contagious.
General admission was the only way to go in my youth. I’ve had the pleasure of watching some killer bands, like Audioslave, The Rolling Stones, Metallica, Oasis, and Alter Bridge from the floor beneath the stage. I loved it because I could do what my brother, Tim drilled into me from a young age: stand and dance at concerts.
As time passed, things changed and I bypassed the floor for any number of reasons: the people I went with, the price of tickets, my weak bladder. But age hasn’t stopped me from buying a seat and dancing the night away with the collective.
I realize there are people who disagree with this, largely because they wind up sitting behind me. This usually leads to shoulder pokes or passive-aggressive shouts all aimed at telling me and the women around me to “sit down” and “have some courtesy.” (Interestingly, my six-foot-three-inch husband has never been told to sit.)
Friends, these are not orchestra concerts. These are country or rock shows where over 80 percent of the venue is on their feet from the first song through the encore.
Historically speaking, I am accommodating to a fault. I was raised by my mother to go out of the way to make others feel better even if it comes at my expense (like apologizing after someone bumps into me).
But the older I get, the less I want to bend over backward for anyone trying to guilt/shame/order me into doing something they believe they’re entitled to more than I am.
I no longer care to please the few—whether that’s at a concert, a school board meeting about book bans, or the front lines of a women’s clinic. Instead, I’ll continue to stand and advocate for those around me who need my voice because they aren’t where I am yet.
Yesterday, I bought general admission tickets to see my favorite band, Old Dominion in June. For the first time in decades, I’ll be in the section where everyone stands. Alongside my daughter, we’ll all dance and sing and laugh and cry and feel the music together without shame or guilt.
After picking the youngest up from track practice last Wednesday evening, I paused in our driveway, staring at the sky, searching for the planets. It was the first clear night we’d had since the planetary alignment began and the darkest with no pesky moon lighting it up.
Needless to say, it was AWESOME! I pulled out my phone, launched my SkyView Lite app (if you’re even remotely interested in space, you should try it. I use the free version) and scanned the sky to see which planet was which. Neptune and Uranus remained a no-show, but four stood out:
Mars all the way to the right and the brightestJupiter in the centerVenus, bright at the top Saturn, small in the clouds
Something else caught my eye, and that’s when I might have gone a little overboard in my front yard (picture a 48-year-old woman squealing and jumping up and down while aiming her phone at her neighbor’s house). The International Space Station was crossing the horizon. It has been my white whale for years because I always missed it.
I got emotional as it made its orbit past our little snippet of the planet, in part, because I can’t fathom the courage it takes to slip the confines of the earth like that. But mostly because my brother Tim was one of the biggest space nerds around. He took pictures of the night sky through his camera lens and telescope; that moonshot at the top is his. There are times when the grief of his loss rumbles back. But this time, instead of fighting it, I leaned in. Tracking the space station set against the most perfect night sky on a chilly January night made me feel closer to him again. Like I could hear him whispering, “Told you it was cool, little sister.”
We’re in for a treat starting tonight when six planets will be visible in the night sky. This planetary parade will culminate on February 25, when Mercury joins the lineup, and all seven planets appear to align. While it’s not a once-in-a-lifetime event, it is rare. The last time this happened was 2022.
I am a loud and proud space geek. My mom took me to Long Beach Island State Park in the middle of the night when I was nine to watch Halley’s Comet make its once-every-72-to-80-year fly-by. I used to dream about being an astronomer so badly back then. (Other careers I wanted to pursue at one point or another include: pediatrician, nun, and Rockette. This might explain a lot about me, I realize.)
This path was doomed to fail because, as it turns out, I don’t have a single scientifically inclined bone in my body. It was a bummer on many levels, but it cleared the way for the thing I am good at: writing.
My true gift is weaving words together into stories. And a few years ago, I had a crazy idea to write a story about an astronomy professor. While I don’t have the chops to be an astronomer, I got to live vicariously through one in my new book, ACCORDING TO MY SCIENCE, which launches (ha-ha…get it?!) March 11, 2025.
When the stars (or planets) align, dreams can come true. They may just look a little different than they once did.
A brand new shiny year always brings such wonderful possibilities. We all get the chance to reset at the same time and ride the collective energy to meet our goals.
I’m strange. I tend to view goals and days as a type of choose-your-own-adventure. Who didn’t love those books? I remember holding my breath as I turned to the appointed page, waiting to learn the fate I’d picked for the characters.
Because sometimes I think of myself as a character in one of those books, this happened just before lunch:
“Jen has exactly 45 minutes between writing sessions. Since she’s set a goal of running a 10k in an hour this year, this is the perfect time for her to get on the treadmill. If you think Jen should go on the treadmill, turn to Page 7. If you think Jen should skip it and upload her new book to Amazon instead, turn to Page 13.”
Page 13 “Jen uploads and submits details of her new book to Amazon. Does a happy dance. Eats chocolate. Stares at the Kindle preorder page. Watches it go live. Sheds a little tear. Goes back to work and writes this newsletter. Turn to Page 7 tomorrow.”
Remember that long-ago planned and plotted book I resurrected last year? It’s finished and I am in love with it. I smile and swoon just thinking about this story.
I seriously can’t wait for you to meet Dr. Ellery Conroy in ACCORDING TO MY SCIENCE, releasing March 11, 2025. Here’s a first look:
She’s used to studying the stars. Now, she’s caught in the orbit of one.
Brilliant astronomy professor Dr. Ellery Conroy has spent most of her 38 years looking up at the stars while keeping herself carefully grounded. From a young age, she was taught to blend in and live by three simple rules: work harder than everyone, don’t ask for help, and never let anyone get too close.
Until a chance encounter thrusts her into the orbit of a man who turns out to be Ben Foster, the charming—and single—President of the United States who sees Elle in a way no one else has. Their chemistry is instant, and for the first time ever Elle finds herself questioning her lifelong practice of shutting everyone out.
So despite navigating a new boss, juggling an increased workload, and locking horns with a genius mentee, Elle starts a surreptitious relationship with the most powerful man in the free world. What could possibly go wrong?
According to My Science is a journey of self-discovery, love, and the courage it takes to let someone in, even when the risks are astronomical.
I love planning. I’ve spent years collecting beautiful planners and scrawling appointments, to-lists, and goals using colorful pens and stickers.
And yet, I suck at following plans.
My writing is no different. I’ve really tried to plot. I’ve watched webinars, bought books, and implemented systems, all to write more efficiently. To do things right. To be more like everyone else who has it all together.
So in 2021, I meticulously outlined a book scene by scene. Months later, when it came time to draft it, I knew all my planning would pay off.
At the end of that first day of drafting, I had written zero words.
NONE.
Frustrated doesn’t begin to describe the feeling.
Three days later, I started drafting an entirely different story with only the vague premise of a woman who goes to work for a playboy billionaire without knowing the Indecent Proposal-type agreement between him and her husband. Three years, several drafts, and five title changes later, THERE’S ALWAYS A PRICE became my debut.
Not following a plan doesn’t mean there isn’t one. For me, it means I can’t see or feel it until I dive in. Like taking the first step into a wooded area where the path isn’t obvious. I might have to trample some ground cover and slice through the overgrowth, but at some point, the path will become clear—even if I have to cut it.
I’ve stopped working against my natural tendency to write intuitively. Now I embrace it. I view every word I write, even what I cut, as serving the story or my process in some way. Nothing is wasted.
Since 2021, I’ve drafted three more books, including that one I meticulously plotted but couldn’t write. I finally finished it last week and sent it off to my fabulous copy editor. It doesn’t look anything like that outline, and that’s a good thing. Because as I’ve learned, not following a plan is the perfect plan for me.
jensinclairwrites.com 