For most authors, a story is more than a collection of words—it’s a living extension of themselves. Characters, settings, and themes often carry fragments of their own memories, hopes, and fears, whether placed with intention or revealed without realizing it.
For me, the most powerful moments come at the climax and the ending. Perhaps it’s the long, exhausting journey to reach that point, but by then, I’m usually emotionally spent. And yet, even when the final draft is complete, I’m far from finished. I comb through the pages correcting mistakes, reshaping scenes, refining dialogue, or adding new details.
In the end, the story has become more than a narrative. It has become a time capsule—a quiet, invisible thread tying me and my creation together for years to come.