May 2026

Hello Friends, I hope your spring has sprung. I know some of my friends in the mountains had a huge snowstorm last week…in May. Calendars matter, but Mother Nature is undefeated. She doesn’t care what you expect; she does what she does. 

As I wrap up book 5 of The Austen Chronicles and get close to the final draft of Comics Lit Vol 2 (more on this below), I realize that writing is often just as unexpected as a spring snowstorm. It is one of the big reasons that real writing, by a human, will always be better than that AI slop that keeps getting generated. Real human writing goes where the story needs to go. Characters say unexpected things. People you thought would fall in love, hate each other, and people who you couldn’t ever imagine being in the same room, become best friends. 

I always have an idea when I sit down to write, but as I go along, it takes on a life of its own. Even this essay was going to be something else when I started. I was thinking about writing about the strange children’s book version of Great Expectations I encountered this week. It would have been pretty interesting to be sure, but by the time I finished the second sentence, the essay was something else. Honestly, I think it is already better for that. 

See, when a person sits down to write, be it with pen, or pencil, or keyboard, they become a writer. The act of following an idea down a rabbit hole, or over a mountain, or across an ocean of ideas, allows it to change and develop as part of the journey. Giving a character green eyes, or a nervous condition, or a favorite band, allows them to become more than words on a page. Once that happens, all bets are off. It may not seem like having green eyes could be that important, but what if they are the only member of their family who has them? That means it could be plausible that the character is a faerie changeling, or adopted, or the Hulk. All things could be true, or none of them could be true. We won’t really know until the story takes shape. 

That is the fun part for the writer and the reader. Reading is supposed to be an experience. Remember, The Hobbit has an alternate title. It is called Here and Back Again. The first movie in the series was called An Unexpected Journey, which is a variation on the title of chapter I of the book, “An Unexpected Party.” Imagine if the works of Tolkien played out like they were “supposed” to. There are real stakes in those books. Honestly, every time I read them again, I am sucked back in and holding my breath through every moment. I know some of the supporting cast won’t make it, but because Tolkien kept us guessing, we can forget about that for a while and be shocked all over again.

The reason I always get so upset when I finish writing a book is that by the time I finish, I’ve spent at least a year sharing brain space with my characters. I’ve gone on a journey with them. I started out thinking they would be one thing, only to discover they are something else. I know that when people read my books, they feel that journey in the bones of the pages. Sure, they may not always like the character or the journey, but they will never doubt that I went on a journey with them, and the surprising results of that journey are right there for all to read. 

I heard a story on NPR recently where the host interviewed a woman who bragged about using AI to “write” 200 books last year. She argued that the books were just a commodity, and so it was fine. It makes me think that she has never closed a book and sobbed, or laughed out loud, or had to sleep with a nightlight on after she closed a book cover. People who read and “write” AI books are not interested in the joy art brings. They are the studio heads who tell a director not to take a risk because “audiences want them to get together at the end,” even if it makes zero sense. They are safe, and boring, and bad.

Maybe these AI-generated books are technically perfect and give you the outcome you always expect, but at what cost? A perfect sentence isn’t always good or interesting. A character who does exactly what you’d expect every time, all the time, is not interesting. If you are not interested in the joy of the unexpected, or in a compelling read that will inspire you to do great things, or reconcile with a long lost friend, or go on a big adventure, or sing a song, or love deeply, or sob uncontrollably, then I have a drawer full of appliance manuals with your name on them.

Notes from my Headphones

I recently watched the Paul McCartney documentary, Man on the Run, about his first few solo records and his time with Wings. People always complain that Wings isn’t The Beatles. Right. That was the point. He wasn’t trying to make a Beatles record. He was trying to be himself, and be in another band, and be a husband and a father. He was writing songs about all of that, and that music is fantastic. I dare you to listen to “Band on the Run” and dislike it. The film gives Linda Eastman McCartney the love she deserves as well, which I appreciate. People were really terrible to her for…reasons. The patriarchy…stop already.

I feel that I would be remiss not to mention some of the other amazing work the Fab Four did after they disbanded. John and Yoko’s final album, which was released after his tragic death, Double Fantasy, is really a love letter to Sean and Yoko and the life they planned. “Dear Yoko” is a banger. Ringo never really quit being a hippie, and his 2017 record’s title track, “Give More Love,” continues to resonate. George did a ton of fantastic solo work, but he formed a supergroup called The Traveling Wilburys, and every song on both albums is a masterpiece. They planted their flag in the ground with “Handle with Care,” and as far as I am concerned, that flag still waves. 

Notes from my Bookshelf 

If someone writes a book and puts the word “book” or “library” in the title, the odds are I am going to pick it up. So was the case with Hayley Gelfuso’s The Book of Lost Hours. Part historical fiction, part science fiction time travel story, and part family drama, it worked on so many levels. Gelfuso focuses on the people more so than the rules of time travel, which was the right call. 

Similarly, if a book is written by a human and it sets out to remind people that real books, by people, have value, I am going to pick that up. Luc Julia’s The AI Illusion: Why Machines Aren’t Creative does so much more than the subtitle suggests. I think the best part of it was that he went deep into the environmental damage AI causes. Spoiler alert, it is not good.  

Notes from my Keyboard

As promised, I have updates on not one, but two projects. Haunting Northanger, Book Five of The Austen Chronicles, will be sent to the publisher within the week. Book Six, Regardless of You, is taking shape in my mind. The main character, Walt Musgrove, has appeared in three of the five books already, so I have a good sense of him. I know what kind of music he likes. I know what the first chapter is going to be called. I have the dedication line already written. I hope to be going full steam ahead on that book in June.

Comics Lit Vol 2 is moving along as well. Co-editor Tonya Todd and I have been talking. We have some amazing essays and personal narratives for this volume. Tonya and I are writing a two-act play together. It is going to be so fun. The other big news is that award-winning comic writer Eric Grissom has agreed to write the foreword. He is an excellent guy, and we’ve become pals over the years. I am excited to share pages with him.