Reunion and Beyond: A Writer’s Challenges

Late Morning, Thursday, May 29, 2025, Miami, Florida

“The scariest moment is always just before you start.” ― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

As a storyteller, I’ve faced all kinds of challenges—some big, some small. A lot of it comes down to the nuts and bolts of writing, like finding the right narrative voice. Should I tell the story from one character’s perspective in first person, or go with a third-person omniscient approach? Then there are the little details, like, What’s the name of that fancy new nightclub where Jim meets Maddie in Brooklyn? Or, Which song completely floors my main character with a sudden wave of nostalgia?

But honestly, the biggest hurdle right now isn’t the writing itself—it’s getting people outside my circle of friends and family to pick up my new book, Reunion: Coda. It’s the second part of my Reunion Duology, following Reunion: A Story. I spent two years crafting it, but as an indie writer on a budget, I can’t afford Amazon ads, so I’m hustling every day to spread the word.

Here’s the thing—I feel good about my writing. I’m confident I can create a compelling, emotionally resonant story if I put in the effort. I wouldn’t call myself a brilliant writer (that’s for others to decide), but I know my weak spot: promotion. Selling my book and convincing people to give it a shot is a whole different skill set, and I’m still figuring it out.

To tackle the marketing beast, I’ve tried a few budget-friendly strategies. I ran a one-week price drop for the Kindle edition to make it more accessible, asked my filmmaking friends to craft a YouTube video trailer featuring Boy of Harvard, a parody song I wrote based on the rousing Men of Harlech, and shared blog posts like this one—whether they’ll help or not, time will tell. Occasionally, I post quotes from Reunion: Coda on Facebook via Goodreads, hoping to give potential readers a taste of what’s inside. One thing I refuse to do, though, is review or rate my own book on Amazon. Sure, it’s not technically illegal, but to me, it feels like crossing a moral line—a desperate move I’d rather avoid.

Every writer knows the bittersweet tug of this moment—the pull of what’s ahead and the lingering presence of what’s behind. Reunion: Coda is still fresh in the world, its characters living, breathing, waiting to find their place in readers’ minds. But there’s also that familiar whisper, that gentle push from the muse, urging me to pick up the pen again, to dive into the unknown, and to let new characters, new conflicts, and new resolutions take shape.

As scared as I am—of failing, mostly, or of being dismissed as a hack—I made a decision yesterday that surprised even me. I’ve decided to start a new literary work. It won’t be a second novel; Reunion: Coda still needs time to find its audience. And it won’t be a film or radio drama adaptation of either book in the Reunion Duology, either. For one, I’m not confident enough in my scriptwriting abilities to tackle that leap. For another, let’s be honest—as an obscure indie writer with no literary agent to help me navigate the labyrinthine business side of adaptations, it’s just not a practical move. Why exhaust myself chasing a dream that feels several steps too far out of reach?

So, I landed on a simpler yet exciting idea: I’m going to write a short story. Once that decision clicked in my brain, the fear I carried seemed to shift into a lighter kind of anticipation. I booted up Word almost instinctively, and before the hour was up, I had a complete outline. For the first time in weeks, I felt that familiar spark—the thrill of creative possibility.

This new story will be set in the Garratyverse, a narrative world I’ve built across multiple works. It’s a universe where characters, themes, and emotional arcs intertwine, sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly. It allows me to explore different perspectives, revisit familiar faces, and expand on moments that might have only been hinted at before. The beauty of the Garratyverse is that it’s flexible—I can craft a short story without feeling constrained by the scope of a novel or the production demands of an adaptation.

It’s a fresh challenge but a manageable one, and though I’m still scared, I’m choosing to channel that fear into something constructive. After all, isn’t that what storytelling is all about?