beginning notes

resurrecting a story she stored away during divorce

for the past year, this publication has largely been a home for my poetry.

those poems were written across some of the most difficult years of my life. they were written during transition, during divorce, during periods where survival itself often felt like a full-time occupation. they became a place to put grief, longing, faith, doubt, beauty, obsession, loneliness, and all the strange things that seem to accumulate inside a person when enough years pass.

that work is not disappearing.
it is simply moving.

the poetry, essays, and personal writings that have lived here will gradually find a new home at lostgirls.io, where they can continue existing as part of a larger collection of personal work. they matter to me too much to leave behind, but they no longer belong at the center of what this publication is becoming.

because this publication is becoming something else.
or perhaps it is becoming what it was always intended to become.

for years there has been a story following me around. sometimes it existed as a notebook full of ideas. sometimes as outlines. sometimes as half-finished chapters abandoned on hard drives. there were periods where I spent months working on it, convinced it would eventually become a self-published novel. there were other periods where life became complicated enough that the story disappeared entirely beneath more immediate concerns.

yet somehow it always returned.

every few months I would find myself thinking about the city again. thinking about the girls. thinking about the disappearance at the center of everything. thinking about conversations that had never been written, scenes that had never been finished, and questions that had never quite left me alone.

the project went dormant during some of the hardest years of my life. looking back, I think I needed it to. there are seasons where creating something large becomes impossible because all available energy is being spent simply making it through the week. I spent a long time rebuilding myself. a long time learning how to survive in a body and a life that often felt unfamiliar. a long time figuring out who I was when the dust finally settled.

through all of that, the story remained.
unfinished.
waiting.

recently I opened the old outlines again. then the planning documents. then the notes. what I expected to find was a relic. what I found instead was something that still had a pulse.

the version of this story that exists today is not identical to the version I imagined years ago. it has changed. I have changed. some ideas have been abandoned. others have grown larger. the city feels different now. the characters feel different. the questions at the heart of the story feel more complicated than they once did.

but the core remains.
a young woman vanishes.
her friends go looking for her.
what they discover is far worse than anything they imagined.

All the Devil’s Daughters is a serialized gothic urban fantasy, and this publication will become its home.

I do not have a release schedule to announce yet. I am still rebuilding the foundation. there are outlines to revise, characters to rediscover, timelines to untangle, and a city to reconstruct from years of notes and forgotten documents. I would rather take my time and build something solid than rush toward a launch date for the sake of having one.

for now, these are simply beginning notes.
proof of life.
proof that the story survived.
proof that after years of silence, I have finally started listening to it again.

thank you for being here.

I hope you’ll stay long enough to meet the girls.

---