On Writing and Storytelling: ACX Stalls, but the Moonglow Still Shines

Thursday, February 19, 2026, Orlando, Florida

Hi there, Dear Reader.

I had hoped to announce that Reunion: Coda’s audiobook edition had at least cleared its metadata quality‑assurance test by now. After all, it’s been over a week since I submitted the finished recording to ACX, and even though the company warns authors and producers that the review process can take up to 10 business days, it’s still baffling that the only milestone logged since last Friday is the Cover Art check. With both human evaluators and automated systems involved, you’d think metadata would be the easy part.

Yes, I know: Reunion: A Story and Comings and Goings – The Art of Being Seen were short works with runtimes under an hour, while Reunion: Coda is a full‑length epic, clocking in at 16 hours, 18 minutes, and 57 seconds. Longer projects demand more time and care, so I fully understand why the audio review might move at a slower pace.

But metadata? Really, ACX? How long does it take to confirm that the title is the title and the chapters are the chapters?

Ah, well. It’s still early on this penultimate day of the workweek. Maybe I’ll have better news to share later. In the meantime, I’ll keep my attention on The Jim Garraty Chronicles omnibus while I wait—somewhat patiently—for ACX to send word.

A Small Celebration in the Garratyverse

Last night also marked a quieter milestone — the 26th anniversary of the evening Jim and Maddie first crossed paths at the Moonglow club in Williamsburg. Before the letters, before the revelations, before either of them had any idea what they were stepping into, there was just a historian with a Heineken, a woman juggling a too‑heavy bag of books, and a crowded nightclub where empty chairs were in short supply.

To mark the occasion, Maddie “posted” these little reflections — simple, affectionate, and true to the moment as it actually unfolded:

Madison (Maddie) Garraty

February 18 at 7:42 PM ·

Twenty‑six years ago tonight, I walked into The Moonglow in a sky‑blue dress and ended up in a conversation about Beethoven, Bizet, Albeniz, Rodrigo, Brahms — and, somehow, Mozart’s flute and harp concerto. Funny how you can meet someone and know instantly that they hear the world in the same key you do.

I still remember the moment he hummed those bars and tapped the table like he couldn’t help himself. I remember thinking, *oh, this one has a musician’s heart, even if he won’t admit it*. And then I ordered a Sidecar because the waitress said it was good, and he smiled like I’d just passed some secret test.

We had no idea that night would change everything. But it did.

So here’s to twenty‑six years since the evening a history professor and a pianist found themselves talking music in a noisy Brooklyn club — and somehow never stopped.

Happy anniversary, Jim.

You’re still the only man who can identify Mozart across a crowded room.

Madison (Maddie) Garraty
February 18 at 8:47 PM

Twenty-six years ago tonight, I walked into the Moonglow with a bag of books that weighed far more than I cared to admit. The place was packed, and I was desperate to set the thing down before I dropped it — or sent someone tumbling.

I spotted an empty chair at a table where a man was quietly nursing a beer and listening to Glenn Miller. I asked if the seat was taken. He said no.

Funny how something that small — a heavy bag, a crowded room, a simple question — can change the whole shape of a life.

Here’s to that night. Here’s to the music. Here’s to us.

For two fictional people, they have a way of reminding me that the beginnings we don’t plan are often the ones that matter most. And while ACX continues its slow march through the QA process, it’s nice to pause and honor the spark that started theirs.