It’s one of those winter days where nothing feels rushed, and that feels intentional.

I’m continuing Unspoken today. The story finally told me how it wants to breathe—quietly, conversationally, in the space where two people get curious instead of performative. I’m letting the women talk their way into intimacy, possibly through something as simple (and revealing) as a game of questions. No grand gestures. Just attention, humor, and the slow permission to stay.

What surprised me is how freeing it feels to stop asking whether this kind of love story is “enough.” Enough plot. Enough tension. Enough of whatever someone once decided was required. I’m writing it the way it feels real to me—observant, nerdy, warm, and unafraid of silence.

At the same time, I’m balancing a very different kind of work. I’m mapping out a four-book satire project. Book 2 is conceptually finished. Book 1 is being finalized for submission. Books 3 and 4 are sketched, waiting their turn. It’s a strange but steady rhythm: intimacy on one side, structure on the other.

On the practical end, I’m also starting the tax process today. Medium categorizes payouts as royalties, which makes filing relatively straightforward—even if I stretch it out a bit to make it bearable.

All of it feels aligned in a way I didn’t expect: writing quietly, planning deliberately, and trusting my instincts a little more than the noise.

Thanks for being here.

— Anna
Unspoken: A Queer Kind of Quiet