This week, the forest floor turned golden under my feet. The air was still, the sun low. One of those rare perfect fall days that remind you how good it is to be alive and outside. I’ve come to think of walking as a “non-negotiable”—something my body and mind need, like food or prayer. It’s my daily reset, my thinking time, and often, my secret writing tool.

Because here’s the thing: I’m in the middle of writing a novel. Not just dabbling, but deep in it—54,000 words deep, to be precise. That’s two acts down, one to go. And I didn’t think I had it in me, not like this. Most days, I draft new chapters while walking, recording voice memos as I go. Yesterday, I came back with not one, not two, but three chapters. Nearly 10,000 words. I couldn't believe it either.

There’s something about allowing a story to surprise you—especially when it grows from grief. One of the characters, a mentor monk, died in the story this week. That loss fueled the emotions, deepened the dialogue, and pulled out something raw and real. I didn’t plan it. But it made everything click.

Of course, this isn’t the polished version. I call it my "horse-beep" draft. But that’s okay. I’ve learned the value of pushing forward, not perfecting too soon. If I stop to edit, I never finish. If I keep moving, I grow.

Outside of writing, life’s been busy too. Masses, interviews, a fantasy book fair in Tilburg—an exhausting but inspiring mix. I met other writers, made new connections, and came home energized. Tired, yes. But motivated. This past year, I’ve written three novels and three story collections. That still blows my mind.

And even with all that, I’m still learning: about routine, about skincare (yes, sunscreen even in November!), about habit-stacking and how to ride the wave of creativity without burning out.

What fuels me isn’t just the dopamine of word counts. It’s the joy of becoming someone I never thought I could be. A writer with a real writing life. A creator who finishes things.

There’s more to come. For now, I'm walking, writing, and wondering what happens next—both in the story and in my own life.