This is where you’ll find the notes from the trenches. Not chapters—but the sweat around them. Reflections on the process, the grind, the ghosts, and the noise.
I’m writing a book, at least that’s what I tell my self and people.
This is the making of a thing that’s trying to mean something.
Progress logs. Not pretty. Not curated. Just the truth about where the manuscript stands, how the days feel, and what’s shifting under the surface as the work grows sharper, meaner, more honest. I don’t care what anyone says, writing a book is hard. This is where I’m at.