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The Last Mile Trial: Why Finishing A Series Is So Damn Hard

February 9, 2026May 29, 2025 by A.B. Channing
A road with tight switchbacks winds up a mountain beneath you. Driving that would probably give you vertigo, and walking it would probably give you blisters. Luckily, you're a camera drone.

Stuck on those final books? Welcome to the club, friend. I’m so sorry.

Categories Author Life, Personal, Writing Advice Leave a comment

Writing An Identity I Struggle To Love (Because It’s Mine)

February 9, 2026April 2, 2025 by A.B. Channing
The silhouette of a man stands alone on a rocky outcrop beneath the skeleton of a gnarled desert tree. Behind and over them both is a sky full of stars.

No one is above internalized bias. I am no exception.

Categories Author Life, Personal, Representation Leave a comment

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  • An empty couch rests comfortably before a floor-to-ceiling window. Outside are the blurred green shapes of grass and hills, and what might be a road tucked somewhere just out of view. No human inhabits the picture. A laptop sits on a little wooden lap desk on the couch, unused. The author it belongs to may berate themself for not writing today—just as they haven’t written for the last six months—but they can let go of that pressure now. They have better things to do.
    You May Not Be Published, And That’s Okay
  • The thing you see is a trash can loaded high with a small mountain of crumpled balls of paper. The thing you don’t see is their place of origin. Somewhere offscreen lies an exhausted writer, dosed up on coffee in the absence of a mug of reader tears. They have no mug of reader tears. This is their first book ever, and they haven’t finished it yet.
    In Defense Of One Million Words
  • You are gazing up from the base of the leaning tower of Pisa, except made of books. Books with antique covers and glittering gold sprayed edges. They teeter, precarious, in laughing defiance of gravity and god. In a strong gust, they are poised to topple. Their cataclysmic collapse will obliterate the coffee cup or inkwell of whoever dares to labor in their shadow… Okay, really it’s just a stack of pretty books made by someone who really hates organizing. I’m being dramatic.
    “Standalone With Series Potential” Has A Catch

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