Reunion: A Story of Words, Work, and What Comes Next

Writer’s Log, Stardate 2506.3
Miami, Florida – Tuesday, June 3, 2025, Afternoon

It’s been two months since I officially became a published novelist—words that still feel surreal even as I type them. Reunion: Coda, the long-awaited second book in the Reunion Duology, is out in the world, and while I’ve managed to sell a few copies (mostly Kindle editions), I can’t shake the hope that more readers will stumble upon the journey I spent two years crafting.

The feedback has been trickling in—an anonymous three-star rating and four thoughtful written reviews. Of course, I would have loved a critique alongside that rating, but I’m choosing to focus on what matters most: Reunion: Coda is resonating with readers who are willing to engage with it. That, in itself, is something to celebrate.

But here’s where things get tricky. As you know, I’m far more interested in writing stories than marketing them, and while professional advertising would undoubtedly help Reunion: Coda find its audience, my financial reality makes that an impossibility. Living on a fixed income means every dollar is allocated to essentials—rent, debts, daily survival. Paying for Amazon Ads, Google promotions, or hiring influencers just isn’t in the cards.

So here I am, doing my best to juggle two equally demanding tasks: promoting the Reunion Duology while also shaping my next project, Comings and Goings, a short story slated for release in 2026. Ideally, I’d devote all my time and creative energy to storytelling, but indie authors don’t have the luxury of letting their books promote themselves.

Fortunately, I do have a strong outline for Comings and Goings, which is unusual for me. Normally, I prefer the thrill of improvisation—writing by instinct, letting the story unfold naturally. That approach served me well through most of Reunion: Coda, but when the narrative transitioned to New York City in early 2000, I realized I needed a more methodical strategy. That shift in mindset made outlining Comings and Goings surprisingly smooth.

At the very least, I have a solid foundation: an outline, a title page, an epigraph, and even a rough draft of the opening line. I only wish I could channel more energy into writing rather than balancing self-promotion. If not for the demands of marketing Reunion: Coda, I’d likely be further along in the new story.

And then there’s the weather—dark, rainy, oppressive. Typical South Florida wet-season gloom. Yesterday’s thunderstorms even forced me to unplug my computer, halting both my work on Comings and Goings and my efforts to spread the word about Reunion: Coda. Today, the lingering dreariness is sapping my psychic energy, but I refuse to let it slow me down entirely. If I can expand my opening line into a paragraph—just a single, meaningful step forward—I’ll count it as progress.

But here’s where you come in. If you believe in the power of independent voices—if you want to support a storyteller who spent decades dreaming of this moment—you can make a real difference. Grab a copy of Reunion: Coda or Reunion: A Story, leave a rating or review on Amazon, and help spread the word. Every purchase, every thoughtful review, is a step toward ensuring that these stories reach the readers they were meant for.

Let’s celebrate stories, resilience, and the unwavering belief that dreams—however long they take—deserve to be fulfilled.