The Night Jim Garraty Kept Someone Up Reading

When a Reader Reminds You Why You Write

Every so often, something happens that cuts through the noise — the sales dashboards, the algorithms, the endless comparisons to writers with marketing budgets the size of small nations — and brings you back to the heart of why you sit down to tell stories in the first place.

This morning, it was a comment from Paul Schingle, the author of Schingle’s Blog.

He mentioned that he now owns all three Jim Garraty books. Then he casually added that he reread Reunion and finished Comings and Goings in the same night. Two stories in one sitting. Yes, one’s a novella and the other’s a novelette, but still… that kind of immersion doesn’t happen unless a character has become good company.

And that’s what struck me.
Not the promise of reviews (though those matter, and I’m grateful).
Not the platforms he’ll post them on.
But the simple fact that Jim Garraty kept someone up reading.

That’s the dream.
Not the bestseller lists.
Not the seven‑figure advances.
Not being James Patterson or Stephen King — writers I admire, but whose financial tier isn’t the measure of my worth.

The real reward is knowing that a character I created — a man who lives in my head and on my pages — lives for someone else too. That he’s worth spending an evening with. That he resonates enough for a reader to come back, again and again.

Moments like this remind me why I keep writing.
Why I want to keep writing.
Why the Garratyverse still has more to say.

And yes, I’m still slowly working on the omnibus edition — The Jim Garraty Chronicles. I don’t know exactly when it’ll be ready, but it’s taking shape in its own time. The audiobook of Reunion: Coda is also moving forward; Steve Lee has it in hand at ACX, and I’m excited to hear what he does with it. And who knows… a fourth Jim Garraty story may be on the horizon later this year. The idea is there, tapping politely on the door. We’ll see where it leads.

So thank you, Paul.
For reading.
For rereading.
For reminding me that connection, not comparison, is the real currency of storytelling.