I finished the draft of Falling Again late in 2024. I had some beta readers read it in January and was getting some edits in, hoping to publish it that summer or fall. Then I had my daughter, and for a while, my priority was all about her. Towards the third month in the hospital, I started writing here on Substack. I had journaled my experience, but I felt the need to have another outlet. However, I didn’t start writing about our experience and my grieving journey until after she left us.

Initially, when someone close to you dies, you have thoughts like, “Well, what now? Why go on with my daily tasks if they aren’t a part of it?” We were advised of her condition and warned of her departure from us a few weeks prior; we started receiving counseling and ultimately grieving while she was still earthside. I think this allowed me to prepare for a mind shift. I knew I so desperately didn’t want to be sunk into that mindset of hopelessness. My daughter had such a warm light about her. It was like her soul was 100x the size of her little body. Everyone who came around her brightened. She had a twinkle in her eyes and never gave the impression of being sad. She inspired me so much and continues to do so during my grieving period. If she could be so radiant and vibrant while being so sick, then I can do so in my life, even though I live without her in it.

So, with my daughter close to my heart, I rewrote my book.

Falling Again is the second book in my Auburn Hills series. It’s a slow-burn romance about two friends running from their pasts and stumbling straight into each other. Chloe has a history of parental absence and traumatic relationships, and Tyler moved back to his hometown after losing both of his parents. They both carry grief and recognize it in each other. It’s how they connect at some points in the story. Everyone else in their life, though they mean well, just doesn’t understand what they are going through. But Chloe and Tyler understand each other. I didn’t truly know how to write about grief until I lived through it. I rewrote chapters and cut huge sections. I added pages and scenes capturing the journey through grief, but not only that- learning how to love life during it all.

Tyler particularly struggles with this. His life has been routine since he moved back home. Almost to the point of him being distracted from actually letting himself grieve his parents. It’s not until he experiences a big mental shift and starts letting Chloe closer into his life that he gets the courage to go through his parents’ belongings, follow his Mom’s recipes, and let himself fall in love again. In the rewrite, I put a lot of myself into Tyler. He and Annika (from book 1) are the characters I relate to most, and I hope that comes across while you read this book.

Read Falling Again

This will be my last Auburn Hills book. It’s bittersweet to write, but I have so many other stories in my head that I want to write that will depart from this sleepy Oregon town. I can’t promise you when they’ll be out, as writing is one of the many hobbies I have. But I’ll be sure to share the process as I go. I am itching to write something with a bit more drama. If you followed my newsletter back in 2023, then you might have an idea of what I’m thinking about releasing next.

It took me another year to publish my book after I decided to rewrite it, and I had to battle with myself about timing. I felt like I was running out of time. A concept I’ve written about before on here. Probably one of my favorite posts I’ve done. I go back and read that article often to remind myself I am indeed not running out of time. There’s no perfect time to start something; you just have to start it and be dedicated to it. And sometimes things will fall into place, and you have to realize it’s time to keep the momentum going.

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Recently, my art/sewing hobby has surprisingly taken off in popularity on TikTok. So much so that I’m going to release my own sewing pattern from a bag I’ve been making for myself. I’ve done this sort of thing my whole life, but I never thought to turn it into something and put my name on it. But the universe has been showing me these signs to go towards it, and I’m listening.

I think my daughter is showing me signs too. One of our signs is snails. Most of her clothes just happened to have snails on them. It wasn’t intentional; I had to get a specific type of outfit for her, and many of them had snail prints or snail embroidery on them. A few days before her passing, we showed her some high-contrast cards, and she liked most of them, but when one with a snail was presented to her, her eyes bugged out more, and she focused on tracking it more attentively than the other cards. So, when I see snails, I think of her, and I see them everywhere.

I read the book Signs recently to learn how I can connect to her more. I see signs all the time. So much so that I wonder if it’s even my daughter because it just seems to happen too often. But why can’t it be? Why can’t it be her steering me to these paths that cross with images of snails to remind me that she’s there with me? To remind me to keep going on with life and trying new things. The other day, I took a half day off of my job because I was severely burnt out. I went to a town and walked around, going in and out of some stores. I had picked up fabric to work on the bag I mentioned above. The bag that would send a huge audience my way. After leaving that store, I went into a different one, and the first thing I saw was a stuffed snail plushie. I knew that was my daughter saying, “I’m here shopping with you, and you’re on the right path.” It meant so much to me that, on this day, I decided to do something for myself and was presented with a sign to validate my choice.

I will continue to write and create against it all. Against all the highs and lows. For me, it’s helped in my grieving. I know it’s not universal to lean into creativity. There’s not one magical solution that will help you connect to your grief and keep yourself moving forward. For Chloe, it’s her cat, Dandy, and volunteering at an animal shelter. For Tyler, it’s reconnecting with his parents through their cookbooks. It can look different for everyone, and leaning into something like that can feel like a huge leap of faith. But eventually, you’ll decide that it’s worth the risk of falling if it means you may land on solid ground again.

xoxo Anjelica

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But looking back at the art I created, I’m obsessed with how much expression it has. It’s so unique and different. There’s such a strong POV that feels like what I was desperate to reach for at that age. Freedom to express and be independent. I wasn’t living that way, so I could try to do so with my art.

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My 22nd year was not bad, but I experienced a very similar state of limbo ten years ago. Let me paint you a picture. I’m living at home, I’m single, and I just graduated from fashion college. I work at a sewing studio teaching kids and teens how to sew. I have a crippling awareness that my healthcare from my parents is going to run out soon.

I feel hopelessly inadequate.

I remember getting so frustrated that I would cry at night because I wanted to move out and get a better job, but nothing seemed to be falling into place for me. I would look at rooms for rent and apply for jobs, but to no avail. Either the location, people, or circumstances didn’t fit my needs, or companies simply didn’t reach out. I felt stuck. It took me taking a big risk, like quitting my job and taking a solo trip to a foreign country for 6 weeks, to get out of the limbo.

Once I took the risk, it’s as if dominoes fell into place. I met my now-husband, went on an unforgettable adventure in Portugal, got an industry job, and moved out on my own to a big city within a year. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard work, and I feel like I still struggled a lot, but those actions set a positive trajectory for my life in the next ten years.

Though ten years later, I still feel the remnants of my younger self inside me. Despite being significantly more confident and certain about my identity, the same restless self is vibrating within. I’m not sure I feel settled in the area I live in now, but I don’t know if I want to move away. I’ve been working at my same job for six years and always wonder if I could do better. I try endless creative pursuits, but none seem to have legs to take off. “Has anything really changed?” screeches my self-doubt monster.

Yes. In one major way.

Initiative.

When I was 22, I tried to be a Vlogger to no avail because I never posted any of the YouTube videos I filmed! They sit on my hard drive, unwatched. I created art but never showcased it. I posted it to my private Instagram or a Tumblr page. I didn’t get an industry job or move out until I had a boyfriend who motivated me to do so. Myself back then, even though I was experimental and eccentric, I was insecure. I didn’t believe I could do it, and so I never got anywhere.

Since being 22, I’ve published nearly two books, learned several new hobbies, made new friends, moved across the country, gotten married, had a child, advocated for myself and family, and so much more. I don’t think I would have started a Substack at 22, sharing some of my most vulnerable thoughts and experiences, and connected with readers from around the world.

I can’t help but ponder what my big ‘risk’ should be to get out of this limbo. I don’t think I’ll quit my job and go on a solo trip this time, but I definitely need to do something to shake things up. To kickstart the positive trajectory for the next decade. I’m not sure what that is yet, but when I think of it, I’m sure I’ll write all about it.

In a way, I’m thankful I still have a bit of my 22-year-old self in me, because even back then, I knew I always wanted better for myself.

What were you like ten years ago, and do you still have remnants of that person inside you today, or are they fully in the past? Also, if you’ve taken a big life risk and want to share, please do! I need some ideas.

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xoxo

Anjelica

With sickness comes a lot of rest. However, I have some sickness in my mind that equates rest with laziness, despite my health conditions. So not only am I trying to nurse my immune system back to health, but I am simultaneously trying to convince myself that: A) no, it is not my fault that I am sick, B) it’s OK to take sick days from work, C) resting is the best I can do to aid swift recovery, so REST!! But after nearly four weeks of resting, I’m getting restless.

It feels easy enough to reach for my phone in these instances. I’m lying horizontal, not quite tired for a nap but also don’t have energy to do much more. Opening a social media app and scrolling for minutes to hours seems the most appealing. For the past few weeks, I’ve averaged 5-6 hours of screen time daily. My retinas are burning at the sheer thought of that number. Of course, TikTok and Instagram are the highest contributors.

I’m not here to shun these apps quickly; I’m actually quite fond of them and have found many wonderful creators on them. But I am coming to you with tips on how I’m going about reducing scrolling, and if you’re feeling a bit of a scrolling hangover, these tips might help you too. Spoiler: it does not involve purchasing a brick.

Start with the Following tab

Both Instagram and TikTok push you into a curated stream of content when you first open the app. This is dangerous territory and gets you sucked in quite quickly. However, something I’ve done for myself is that before I let myself scroll through the FYP, I quickly toggle it to view posts from those I’m following. On TikTok, it is the middle tab at the top of the home page. On Instagram, it’s a bit trickier to find. If you tap the “Instagram” logo at the top, you can view your following timeline in chronological order. By doing this, I find that I scroll through those I am following, and when I run out of new posts, I close the apps, satisfied with the content absorbed.

I think this is a great tip for when you want to reduce scrolling without cutting it off cold turkey.

Replace with another screen

For me, it’s been my Kindle and my TV. Saying a TV sounds crazy, but I rarely watch TV anymore. My husband and I typically will watch a movie or series together on the weekend, but otherwise I find myself watching YouTube from my laptop or phone. With my sick body draped on our living room couch, in front of the only TV in our apartment, I found myself clicking through some of the apps and rewatching one of my favorite sitcoms, Schitt’s Creek.

I’m a 90s baby and 00s kid. I grew up with TV shows, and yet as an adult, I have a strong point of view: I do not want more than one TV in the house. I forbid a TV in our bedroom. I barely like having a TV in our living room. Something about this big void rectangle in the space feels eerie. In contrast, my parents and siblings have several TVs in their houses. In fact, when I visit, I consume more TV shows than I ever have before.

So maybe replacing one screen with another isn’t the best option, but this month, I’ve enjoyed placing my phone in another room while I’ve let my full attention be captured in the show or movie I am watching.

My Kindle and Other Books

I usually have a few books in my rotation at a given time. But honestly, I hadn’t picked any up until last week. Thankfully, I think I’m out of the slump because these three books are all I think about lately.

I’m making my way through Jane Eyre and enjoying the simple character profile it provides. However, I don’t know if I’m as fond of Mr. Rochester as she seems to be.

Crescent City by Sarah J Maas is by far my favorite book she’s written. I’m working my way through the second in the series via audiobook. I enjoy these characters and the setting so much that I genuinely feel excited while listening to it.

Last but not least, I’ve started a new Dramoine fanfic. (My husband still gives me grief that I have yet to finish the actual HP series, and yet I’ve read so many fanfics) I just enjoy Hermione’s POV so much, and this particular one is so healing. Sacramentum by MyDelphi

Commonplace Journaling

I’ve heard this term thrown about, and I never knew quite what it meant until it clicked. For me, it’s a combination of journaling about whatever the hell you want & collage. I have a few old magazines I collect from thrift stores and estate sales, mainly to clip out images and phrases from within. I sometimes will make collage spreads in my sketchbooks, but I had the idea to make little collages utilizing these clippings, along with stickers and doodles, to put in my journal. Now that I’ve unlocked this use of freewill, I look forward to journaling and creating this aesthetically pleasing spread for myself to enjoy.

Minute Cryptic

The name is a bit misleading because it has never taken me only a minute to solve the minute cryptic. I was first introduced to the game by Katy on TikTok. (See, sometimes scrolling rewards you) It was hard to understand at first, but now that it’s been several months of playing, I am addicted. I even have another coworker addicted, and even if one of us is sick or on vacation, we still share our Minute Cryptic results. If you like the NYT games, you might like this. And if you find the NYT games kind of boring, you'll probably like Minute Cryptic too. I recommend trying some of the introductory clues to get warmed up to the game.

Hobbies you have to use with two hands

Fiber arts like Knitting!

Clipping photos out of magazines

Journaling (see above)

Sewing

Gardening

Writing

Puzzling

In this day and age of the internet at the palm of our hands, how are you balancing scrolling social media with everyday life?

xoxo

Anjelica

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My dad shared that his neighbor recently spoke highly of my husband and me. I am familiar with her, although I don’t have the same relationship with them as my parents do. However, after last year, we discovered we related to something not many people can. We both had lost a child.

During the phone call, I asked my dad, “What for?” He explained that she expressed admiration for my husband and me. Despite all that we’ve gone through and are still going through, we continue to have brightness and positive energy. I noted that her words were kind, but then I thought about it and responded to him, “What else are we supposed to do? Sit around and wallow?” He laughed and looked up the definition of wallow.

I later told my husband of our conversation, and he told me we don’t give ourselves enough credit. We are living in a very dark time in our lives. Our daughter died of a disease we had no idea about until a week after she was born. Her entire life, we were fighting with doctors to get her treatment until ultimately she couldn’t hold on any longer. And since then, a year later, we are continuing to fight for our future. We have lost relationships with people who can’t support us. We are hopeful yet uncertain of our future. We live across the country from our main support system, yearning to be close to them. And yet, we find joy.

My husband and I have an incredible relationship. We communicate what is on our minds, good or bad. We talk through our anxieties and insecurities. We uplift one another and push each other to our best selves. Through it all, we’ve not only survived in our relationship, we’ve thrived.

Despite the struggles we continue to face, we keep up with our hobbies and creative pursuits. I’m publishing my second novel in a few months, and we are doing well in our careers. Neither of us has taken to vices like alcohol or drugs. We sleep well and are generally healthy. For all that, I am grateful, and it is what I focus on through the darkness.

My therapist told me in our last visit after catching her up. She exhaled deeply and said, “You are going through a lot.” I said, “It doesn’t feel like it. It just feels like what I have to do. There’s no other path but forward. I need to keep going through. Because giving up is not an option.”

Sitting and wallowing in pity and sadness is not an option for me. I know better than that. I am stronger than that. If I’ve learned anything in this year since my daughter left us, it is that I am stronger than ever.

There are times when it feels like too much. It feels all-consuming. It hurts, and it feels like the pain will never go away. I let myself wallow in those moments. But then, I wipe my tears and carry on.

Besides, I promised my daughter I’d live a vibrant life in her honor, and I will keep my word. There isn’t a day that goes by without thinking of her. I’ve filled my life and surroundings with photos and momentos of her, making it physically impossible for me not to think of her every day. One of my worries since she left Earthside is that I will have a day when I don’t think of her. It has yet to happen, but I hope I can give myself grace when it does.

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If you’re reading this and you’ve lost someone in your life, I deeply feel for you on the anniversaries and birthdays. Days when their loss feels heavier than normal. In those days, it’s ok to let the sadness creep in. Let those feelings connect with the one you’ve lost, and remember that it’s your job to keep their spirit alive within you. Each day you live your life vibrantly, you are honoring theirs.

xoxo

Anjelica

• Wallow - intransitive verb: to become or remain helpless

Since my last update, here are some hobbies, fashions, and pop culture that have been utterly and completely consuming me.

Finally, it’s time to reveal my long-time love for bandanas, just as I see them rising up in fashion again. Not surprisingly, because 90s and 00s fashion has been circulating as a trend for the past several years. Whether it's a classic cotton bandana or a silk scarf, it’s my absolute favorite way to elevate an outfit. At this point, it’s become my security blanket. When day-three hair is in its final dregs before hair wash day, a bandana (either tied “cottage girl style” or “pirate style”) makes me feel put-together and cool as heck!

Where I get my bandanas:

• Flea markets/Swap Meets/Thrift Stores (best places to find worn-in, inexpensive, gently used!)

• Vintage Stores/Vintage Markets (for unique finds)

• Here are a few bandanas I found online that I think are quite cool:

  • (1), (2), (3)

    • I might have to grab #3 for myself

I’ll be sharing my bandana and scarf collection over on TikTok soon, btw.

The month of May featured a bit of downtime for me regarding my second book. I handed off to my best friend, who kindly agreed to proofread the latest draft. She handed it back a couple of days ago, so this coming week I will be finishing up the last draft, formatting, and ordering ARCs! Kind of wild, my second book is on the horizon of publishing.

Her last note in the draft said:

Which prompted a wildfire of ideas racing through my head. The Auburn Hills duology concludes with Falling Again; however, I see the universe continuing on elsewhere and following some related characters.

If you’d like to be part of my ARC team, I have an interest form here.

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The Lord of the Rings has become my comfort movie, and I’ve only seen it twice. I find myself quoting it, staring off into space, thinking about Aragorn and wondering about how Legolas and Gimli spent their lives together. A couple of days ago, we watched the first Harry Potter movie, and I found myself missing Gandalf at the sight of Dumbledore. But truly, I realized this three-movie cinematic masterpiece was my safe space, was when I was feeling truly low. In the depths of my luteal phase, sad and unmotivated, I yearned for something to soothe me. So, I did a puzzle and turned on The Fellowship of the Ring. Cured.

Other notes:

As I put my Oura ring on, I peer up to my husband with a sneer on my face as I say, “My precious,” and slide the ring on my finger.

While waiting for our return flight home, I joined my husband, placed the bag of snacks I just purchased down, and unwrapped my breakfast sandwich, taking a bite. He looks at the food I bought and pulls out a small container of overnight oats. “Is this your lunch?” He asks. I shake my head and say, “It’s second breakfast!”

Oh, look at that, is that a knitted bandana!? Yes, yes it is. See, my love for scarves and bandanas doesn’t cease at lightweight wovens. I’ve had a “purse project knit” for a while now, maybe two or three months, and finally finished my Scarf No. 5 by My Favorite Things Knitwear. I used one strand of Bella Coco Merino Wool in color 19 and one strand of Knitting for Olive Mohair in Flamingo, which created a gorgeous peachy color. Unfortunately, it’s too warm to wear, but best believe, I will have this wrapped around my noggin come winter.

Over in California, I spent my evenings painting on 4”x6” wood panels. My parents and I sat in their garage, chatting, sipping seltzers while I made a little painting. Each time we visit, I tend to do some craft, and these colorful little paintings are such a lovely reminder of our spring visit.

While visiting, we stopped by The Rock Shop, where I purchased a few strands of gemstone beads. Jewelry making is one I am quite amateur with; however, I still pick it up occasionally when inspiration strikes.

Honorable mention: Chocolate Dipped Soft Serve (pictured eating while wearing vintage silk scarf tied “pirate style”)

xoxo

Anjelica

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When I’d get asked in return, I could feel my eyes start to sparkle. Images of kayaking at the nearby lake, and lounging in the sand at the Shore flashed through my mind. The images didn’t cease there. Sprawling on a picnic blanket, reading, tending to my balcony garden, attending a downtown festival, eating water ice while the sun hits my face, and hosting family as they visit us. I couldn’t stop the options presented. The joy radiated off of me at the sheer ideas on how to spend this summer.

Living in California seems like a dream to many, and don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty great. But I think at times, we take for granted how good we have it. The weather is pleasant the majority of the year, and in fact, summer is sometimes too hot and dry to enjoy the outdoors. The time spent outdoors is spent rushing from one air-conditioned location to another. So the few years I’ve lived in PA have taught me to enjoy the seasons. The foliage is so lush this time of year. Vibrant greens, birds, and bugs in the air. The world feels alive.

I always thought, as an adult, my summers were over. No longer did I get to enjoy this midyear break to do as I pleased. Work continues on, and my schedule is entirely up to me. No allotted time to rest and reset. But something reset in my brain. Perhaps it took a deeply traumatic year to encourage this change in myself. Though I’d like to share my outlook with others without you having to go through such a drastic life event to realize that it’s your life to live.

1. Get outside during the week

   Enjoying the summer doesn’t have to be reserved for the weekend. In fact, it feels even more delicious to have some fun mid-week.

   1. Take a stroll around the neighborhood

   2. Go to the park and read

   3. Pull up a chair to your front lawn and soak up some sunshine

2. Plan in advance

   Not all of us have the advantage of working at home or having half-day Fridays. Sometimes, you need to plan your fun ahead of time.

   1. Now is the time to book your upcoming PTO days for July/August.

   2. Earlier in the year, consider booking a staycation for better deals

   3. If you DO work remotely and your company policy allows, work from a different location. Perhaps a beach house or a cabin in the mountains?

3. Pick up a Summer Hobby

   As with reading, my hobbies tend to have a seasonal rotation. I pick up fiber arts and ceramics in the winter, while the summer is dedicated to painting, sewing, and gardening. Here are a few other hobby options to pick up this summer:

   1. Collaging/Scrapbooking

   2. Sunprints

   3. Biking

   4. Tennis/Pickleball/Golfing (or what I do is just go to the driving range)

   5. Reading outdoors

   6. Flower Arranging

   7. Grilling

4. Take it Easy

   Don’t be hard on yourself if you can’t do all the things this summer. Use this time of year to ground yourself. It’s not all-or-nothing. So you didn’t lose weight this winter, so what? Go to the beach in a t-shirt and hit the gym tomorrow. So the summer went by, and you only went to the beach once. Once is better than none. My point is, don’t put so many expectations on what you should do. Let your time lead the way naturally and learn to lean into it. As a type A person, I understand this is easier said than done, but even I have learned to let go a little.

Happy Summer! What are you looking forward to in the upcoming few months?

xoxo

Anjelica

The second book, being a companion of the first, I knew I had to do the cover myself again, for continuity. Though going forward, I’m more than happy to release the duties elsewhere. I figured I might as well make one more.

It starts with a mood board. I grabbed the first book’s cover as a starting point. Since the covers are landscapes, I found a few that felt like they captured the feel of the book. It’s a romance, so I wanted something sweet, calming colors. I made the conscious choice to omit people from these covers. I’m not entirely against it, but I know it would take me even longer to create and knew I could achieve just as lovely a result without cartoon people. I also gathered a few other landscape book covers I liked as inspiration.

Then it went through the process of edits. I create the covers in Illustrator using a mixture of textures, layers, and the handy work of the pen tool. The title I created using the “blend” function under the objects bar. I tried creating the same effect for the second book, but the title from the first paralleled the character’s love of postcards, which was absent in the second.

Using the same font, I instead kept the title simple and did a color burn drop shadow effect. I toyed with many different colors for the title, but instead kept it a bold off-white shade so it popped against the sunset. And yes, it’s a sunset. As Already Falling, shows a sunrise, indicating the start of the story, Falling Again shows a sunset, concluding the duology.

It did add a burst of pride to be able to put “Author of” under my name this time around. Creating a catalog of sorts. There’s an added excitement in creating more than one novel. I already cannot wait for the formatting stage when I can add a page with my “Other works”.

Eventually, I landed on the over you see above. The final printing will have more vibrancy, but I quite love how this cover is. It’s soft and comforting. It makes you want to ease into it, and that’s exactly how Chloe and Tyler, the protagonists in Falling Again, are. They are a warm hug exactly when you need it. They are stable to hold you up when you feel like crumbling.

Falling Again releases in August. Click the link below to preorder your ebook copy!

Preorder Falling Again

I hope you enjoyed this behind-the-scenes to the making of my book cover. If you’d like to enjoy other exclusive content going forward, consider becoming a paid subscriber.

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xoxo

Anjelica

I’ve had a handful of book signings since the release of Already Falling, and each time, there’s at least one person who asks how I got started in writing. Or something similar. It’s usually phrased such as “How do you publish a book?” “How did you write a book?” “What advice do you have for someone who wants to write a book?” Unfortunately, I don’t have a magic spell or mind-blowing answer. I think it disappoints people to hear when I answer, “I just started.”

I started writing. It wasn’t anything big, a paragraph here or there. A few ideas that I could weave together. I checked out a few writing books from the library and did some research on how to frame a book. I wrote a chapter-by-chapter outline, with rough sentences explaining each scene, until I had about 30 chapters. Then, I began to write. I did all of this while working full-time, and I still do. My schedule has shifted over the years, depending on what I find works well for me at the time. Because I’m an indie author, I do everything myself, so along with writing, I basically have to fit in running a small business. It’s possible to do that and still have time for more.

I work, write, and market, and still have time for all my hobbies. If it isn’t clear by now, I’m a bleeding heart type-A personality and thrive on setting a schedule and routine for myself. It provides me peace and comfort in a life that feels unpredictable. The routine ebbs and flows, but I make sure I write in some capacity each day. This can be in the form of a journal entry, writing or editing for my manuscript, or writing here on Substack. Writing is like any other skill; you have to keep practicing to improve it. The more you write, the better you become and the more your voice forms.

I’m in the midst of my second novel. I’m finishing up on the third or fourth draft edits before I pass it off to a final proofreader, then to ARC readers. It’s nearly out in the world again, so I’ve gotten rather serious about my routine. Here’s what a typical week as a writer with a full-time job looks like:

Monday - Thursday

6 am - Wake up ~ Morning Routine includes:

• Hot cup of tea (preferably English Breakfast or Earl Grey with a splash of whole milk)

• Reading a chapter of a paperback book (this is essential. No kindles, no phone, limit the early morning screen time)

• Gym (1 mile treadmill incline coupled with strength training, I use the Alive app)

• Breakfast (2 eggs, 2 breakfast sausages, 1/4 avocado)

9 am - Passion Projects (usually just do one bullet point per day)

• Write (journaling or Substack drafting)

• Research and plan social media posts

• Edit and schedule posts for the upcoming week

• Reply to comments & cross-post to other platforms

10 am - 6 pm - Full-Time Job

• Luckily, I work remotely, so I find time to go out on walks during the day

• Eat lunch away from my computer

6:30 pm - Creative Hobby Time

• Since I’ve been staring at a screen for nearly ten hours, I use this after-work time for hobbies or housework chores

• No writing, no extra work, strictly clock-off on all hustles

• As of late, I’ve spent my evenings sewing and knitting while listening to an audiobook

9 pm - Wind down for bed

• Usually asleep by 10:30 pm

Friday

• Similar routine in the morning, aside from passion projects, I will take breaks on Friday mornings to give my brain a break.

• I will use these mornings to do some gardening or household tasks.

Weekends

• 2-hour uninterrupted Writing Flow - working on my novel(s)

  • I use the Pomodoro method (25 min with 5 min break blocks) to make sure I stay on track and undistracted

• 1-hour Social Media & Weekly Planning

• 1-hour Substack writing if I didn’t get to it during the week

Setting aside dedicated time on the weekends takes pressure off me to fit it all in during the week. I’ve done this routine a few weekends so far, and it works really well for me. I find I get more work done in these 2-hour blocks on Saturday and Sunday than when I try to cram it into the week, by which point I’m already burnt out from work.

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Dedication, routine, and consistency helped me self-publish my first book, and I am on track for my second by following the same routine. I find that if I chip in a bit each day, I’m able to make progress and feel more productive. In addition, I’ve created a timeline in Notion. I actually have the exact template I use available on my Etsy. A few people requested it, so I made it available for download.

When I wrote my first book, I wrote whenever I could. In the mornings, evenings, and on the weekends. It was all-consuming. Then it took me three years to write the second book. I think it’s because I burnt myself out, and I didn’t have a sustainable routine to follow. I also had some life-altering events happen, but aside from that, I was working on the book aimlessly. When, really, if I want this to be a thing I do forever, I need it to be a part of my life rather than fighting against my other priorities.

So, as I said, it doesn’t take any special trick; it’s simply consistency. Write however much you can whenever you can sustainably fit it into your schedule. If you can carve out 30 minutes a day, that’s great! Or maybe it’s just 30 minutes on the weekend, that’s better than none at all. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You don’t need to quit your job to write a book; you just have to be dedicated to the journey.

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xoxo

Anjelica

I’ve been holding onto these memories, reluctantly. Though I wrote throughout the time we had in the hospital with our daughter, my words are fragmented. Stilted accounts of each event. The first week she was hospitalized, I wrote daily. Noting who we had as a nurse and any progress she made. A week and a day later, we had our first family meeting, and I couldn’t muster the daily entries from that point on. Here is where I try to fill in the gaps.

A year later, the memories of the past sit forefront as these dates are etched in my mind. The Photos app on my phone displays a photo captioned “A Year Ago Today”. A photo of me holding my daughter sleeping soundly against my chest. A bandage covers her tiny hand where she received the daily blood draw. She was so small. Our tiny warrior. “She doesn’t know any better,” I would say. “She doesn’t know what we know.”

I thought about waiting to write an account of our time. I wanted it to be her story. But I realized, I need to heal first. I need to recount these moments for myself before I can honor her.

The day she was taken to the NICU was the first traumatic event; however, it doesn’t stand out as much as the first family meeting to me. I’m not sure why. Both were devastating and traumatic events. Perhaps because this family meeting changed the trajectory of our lives forever.

The rest of the story is behind the paywall. ⤵︎ …It’s vulnerable, raw, and honest.

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A year ago, I started typing into the journal app on my phone as I sat next to my daughter’s crib in the hospital. I’m not sure how I went from the app to creating a Substack, but eventually I posted it, and people liked it. So I kept posting little notes and thoughts. It was an escape for me. With everything crumbling around me, I could still capture these moments in between it all.

A week after my daughter passed, I wrote again. I didn’t plan for the theme of grief to overtake my writing, but it did. It lives in everything I write going forward. It’s essential to who I am. Grief, beyond what people think, doesn’t go away. It’s not linear, and it’s not the same in everyone.

With each article I write, an evil voice speaks from the base of my skull. No one wants to hear about your sadness. Why don’t you get over it already? It’s been nearly a year. Why are you still talking about losing your daughter? You lost a subscriber because they are sick of reading about it. No one cares. No one cares. No one cares.

Of course, I tamp down those thoughts and post anyway, because what I tell myself is what I told myself when I published my first romance book three years ago; even if my story reaches one person and makes an impact on them, it’s worth it. Even if that person is me. This is what keeps me writing. Writing has helped me process my grief more thoroughly than anything else I’ve tried. So, I’m going to keep writing about it.

Grief has made me a better writer, ten months later. It’s as if a shell was cracked over this barrier I kept surrounding myself. I thought, “Why keep this all in?” Because I think there’s strength in being vulnerable. A few months ago, I revisited the manuscript for my second novel. In Falling Again, one of the main characters has lost both of his parents. I completely rewrote his grief journey, knowing what I know about grief. The story before was great, but now, it’s impactful. I know, when I finally release it to the world, it will resonate with so many who are going through the journey themselves.

If you noticed, the publication name changed! Mostly Nonsense served me well for the time being, but there’s definitely a theme in my writing, and so, I wanted to give it justice. For the happy moments and heavier times, Between the Heartbreaks is where I will continue to put my personal journey into words and share the behind-the-scenes of my romance novel writing. Things may get real, but I will always try to find that silver lining.

Thanks for reading, and if you haven’t already, go check out my first novel, Already Falling. It’s about second chances, childhood crushes, small towns, and plans unraveling.

Read Already Falling

Available on KU, e-reader, and Paperback

xoxo

Anjelica

I’m tired of pitying myself and the thoughts “why me” and “when will I catch a break” floating around my head. It’s nearly comical at this point, though. If I believed in a God, I’d think they are strengthening me for something. That all these instances are ways to condition my mental toughness. It has to be right? Because, for what is the point otherwise to go through so much loss and heartache? I see other people and think, “How are they so lucky?” The realization struck me recently that it’s not luck, it’s mindset. They are emitting energy into the world, and it’s returning the favor. Easier said than done, but I’m consciously aware of this and yearning to make it a part of my life. I want to let go of the grievances and resentments I have towards others. I want to be open to the unknown life has to offer. I want to stay hopeful and optimistic. A doctor once told me, “It’s free to be optimistic.” That phrase pulled me along, while I crawled through the trenches of despair, clawing for a way over the edge. It’s a phrase I am welcoming now, as I’m walking through the vast unknown.

weekly report (reading, eating, playing, obsessing, recommending, treating)

Reading

I usually am reading more than one book at a time. I have a paperback, an ebook, and an audiobook constantly in rotation. Two of the three are nearly 300,000 words long, which would have turned me away during my novice days of reading. However, I’ve gathered a new appreciation for a lengthy book. Instead of finishing it in a few days or a week, it lives with me a bit longer. I can sink into the story and the world and enjoy all the layers it offers. Both of these books are nearing an end, however, and I’m bracing myself for the massive book hangover that will be in its wake.

Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (paperback)

Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas (audiobook)

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19 (ebook) (I just got a new kindle case. see obsessed)

Eating

My daughter had her first birthday last Tuesday. She was not present for it, physically, but the day felt like a gift from her. It was over seventy degrees and sunny, and after a brutal winter, it was a treat. My husband and I took the day off from work and spent time outside. One of our joys with our daughter was taking her on stroller rides through the hospital and in the atrium, where she could feel the sun on her skin. It felt like a day of peace as we honored her. We bought a slice of chocolate cake, lit a candle, and sang to her. Well, my husband sang as I cried and mouthed the words. The cake was light, fluffy, and had the perfect amount of sweetness. In the hospital, there is a sugary water called “sweeties” that they give babies to soothe them. Our daughter had her fair share of sweeties, and so we’d think she’d quite enjoy this cake as well.

Playing

Music I’ve been loving lately. I really do feel spoiled by my favorite musicians, thanks to all the glorious new music I’ve heard lately.

Obsessing

There comes a time when a TikTok shop ad will come across my feed, and I am momentarily sucked into the thrall of online shopping. I shake my head, hit save, and continue scrolling. This time, an ad wormed its way into my brain and refused to let go. So, I conceded and ordered my new Kindle case. To my great surprise, it’s solved a lot of the gripes from my previous case. It is slim yet has a cover that protects the screen. The cover flips around, magnetizes to the back, and a covert strap is available to slide a hand into to keep hold while reading. I am simply obsessed.

You can also find the seller on Etsy.

Recommending

I’d like your recommendations, if you’ve made it this far. Ever since daylight savings time slapped us all in the face, I’ve been horribly out of my morning routine. So, I’d like your recommendations for morning routines to wake up early and make the most of the early hours of the day. Today, I managed to get out of bed when my alarm went off, but I still feel a bit slow going. Appreciate your tips in advance!

Treating

This California girl doesn’t know how far and wide water ice and gelati stretches across. When I moved to eastern Pennsylvania four years ago, I learned about the delightful summer delicacy. Water Ice is not quite the same as shaved ice. It’s as if ice were a cloud. Here we have “Rita’s”, a chain I know for their water ice, though we prefer more local establishments. To our surprise, these seasonal businesses reopened and we treated ourselves to a gelati for dinner one weekend. A gelati is layers of water ice and soft serve. I’m curious, do you have gelati near you, or do you have some sort of other regional summer treat? The fact that my autocorrect is trying to change gelati to gelato is telling me it’s not quite widespread.

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A new podcast episode will be out next week for my paid subscribers. I’ll share photos and stories from my trip to Santa Fe, as well as my recent ceramic creations, just with my paid subscribers. So, come join us there if you’d like.

xoxo

Anjelica

Including but not limited to:

• audiobooks (fantasy, smut etc!)

• snack plates

• book events and book two updates

• wuthering heights

• bridgerton

• sewing and knitting

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My daughter would be celebrating her first birthday next month if she were alive. I would plan a pun-induced birthday celebration to mark her first year of life, surrounded by friends and family as we watch her dismantle a little cake, frosting covering her face as relatives coo and giggle. We’d receive too many plastic toys that my granola mom self would loathe, and I’d perhaps have sewn her a special outfit for her birthday. Yet, the day will come, and none of those things will happen. The day of her birth has been an echo in my mind as I brace for the sun to rise on a year since she entered my life.

A year ago, that day was perfect in every way. Her birth went mostly according to my birth plan, and we spent the first ten hours together as a family of three, in newborn bliss. I hold on to that time like it’s the life force to keep me going each day. That moment prevents me from crumbling into a mess of tears because I cherish that we were able to have those hours with her. We cuddled and fed her. We swaddled her in the perfect bundle and craddled her in skin-to-skin. Once she was swept away to the NICU, everything changed forever. The thought of it being a year since she was born makes my breath catch. My stomach drops. How? How has it been a year?

I had a dream last night that I was dying. I recall in the dream knowing that I was dying and was ebbing in and out of consciousness. I was content with it. It wasn’t a nightmare. I had a family friend with me holding my hand, who was dying too. I had to decide how I wanted my remains to be delivered to my husband, and in a tree was an option. I remember my dream self thinking how inconvenient it would be to have a tree show up at my husband’s doorstep. Classic dream nonsense. I was dying from some parasite eating away at my insides. In the dream, I looked in a mirror because I could see it nearing my heart, and I knew the time was imminent. I lay on the ground, grasped my friend’s hand, and tried to close my eyes, letting death take me away. When I woke up, I was a bit freaked out by how chill I was about dying in my dream. I definitely do not want to die, and yet in the dream world, I accepted the fate.

I used to have a dream journal app on my iPod Touch back in the early oughts. And if I recall, dreaming about death doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to die. Instead, it could mean letting go of something in your life. In tarot, the death card can indicate transformation and new beginnings. The end of one phase and the start of another. I think it’s a bit symbolic that I was dying from something eating at my insides, as it’s been a year of grief. Grief feels like this ulcer. At times, you hardly notice it until, someday, it irritates you and consumes you. Because when my daughter was taken from us, that’s when the grieving started. I knew, deep down, nothing would be the same from that point going forward. Perhaps the grief has eaten away at who I once was, and I am accepting that version of myself is gone forever.

We are still planning to celebrate my daughter's birthday in some way. We are taking advice from our monthly support group of grieving parents, who suggest having a cake and singing to her as if she were here. They advised taking the day off work and doing whatever feels okay that day. It may not be what I had hoped, but it will be a tradition we plan to uphold indefinitely.

Happy Birthday, baby. I miss you so immensely.

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If you want to hear more of me rambling for 20-40 minutes, I have a monthly podcast for paid subscribers. This month, I’ll be discussing the hobbies I use to distract myself from grief, Wuthering Heights (2026), and art museums!

Paid subscribers ($5 a month) also have immediate access to all previous podcasts; there are three so far. I’m biased, but I think I make a nice yap companion. Once you're subscribed, you can access the pod via Substack, Spotify, or Apple Podcasts. https://anjelicaroses.substack.com/podcast

xoxo

Anjelica

I thought I could handle this; it hasn’t been too bad. I thought I worked up some sort of tolerance. It went to my head, my big ego ever inflating. And yet, I’m constantly humbled. This time around, it’s when the weather dropped to the single digits.

This California girl is not used to this level of cold. Frigid. Icy. Startling. When people asked me, “But what about the winter?” after I revealed I moved to the East Coast from San Francisco. “I get a whole new wardrobe!” I assured those. But as a thick blanket of snow covered the land and didn’t melt days later, it is frozen into brown masses, and I’m not quite sure I built up a strong enough tolerance as I thought.

So, I’m leaning in to joys and pleasures I can create for myself, indoors, where it’s a delightful sixty-eight degrees.

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I bring you my weekly r.e.p.o.r.t. as I combat the winter blues:

R(eading) Despite only adopting this morning, I’m certain to implement this morning routine in my schedule going forward. This morning, I stayed in my pajamas, put on the kettle for a cup of tea, and read my book for half an hour before going to the gym. As I read, the fog of sleep dissipated, and I could feel the cogs in my brain churning. The sun hasn’t risen, so a warmly lit lamp at the side of my reading chair welcomes my day with a slow and intentful morning. I’m nearly finished with my book, Sourdough by Robin Sloan. I had little expectations going into it, and it’s been a delight to read. It’s wacky and fantastical. It also takes place where I grew up, feeding the nostalgia monster in my gut.

E(eating) I always had a qualm with why charcuterie boards were reserved for gatherings, showers, and cocktail hours. I want to have a grazing board whenever I dang please. As an act of free will, I will create an extravagant snack board in lieu of dinner. Wedges of sharp cheeses, briney olives, and buttery crackers. Dollops of hummus and goat cheese, drizzled with honey. Slices of cured meats and segments of carrots, radishes, or celery. Shards of dark chocolate and pieces of plump dried apricots. Curating a personal charcuterie board delights the darkest evenings.

P(laying) No matter the time of year, I like to have a wind-down activity at the end of a work day that doesn’t include scalding my retinas with a screen. In the summer, I paint, sometimes outdoors. In the winter, I knit. It’s a recent addition to my arsenal of hobbies, so I’m challenged more than typical. I tend to stay focused on my project and can sit in silence, simply knitting. However, as I’ve been practicing and reaching points in projects where repetition is imminent, I need something to occupy the scurrying part of my mind. In comes, audiobooks! A delightful pairing of hobbies. Currently playing in my noise-canceling headphones is the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas. I am at the second-to-last book, Tower of Dawn. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel because the usual crew of characters is absent in this story, but I’ve been surprisingly delighted by this new perspective. I’m prepared to be absolutely devastated when I finish the series.

O(bsessing) Perhaps I’m dulled by feeling obsessed with everything in my life, so that I’m having trouble thinking of a single thing I’m obsessed with.

R(ecommending) Have an “out of the house” activity. For me, it’s a weekly ceramic sculpture class. There’s a joy in attending a class as an adult and interacting with folks I only see in this one setting. I chat with ladies as we play with clay. We troubleshoot and bounce ideas off one another. I return home feeling refueled. Recently, my project took a tragic turn, and yet with the encouragement from my peers, I adapted. I cannot recommend enough immersing yourself in the community.

T(reating) For Christmas, my husband and I were gifted gorgeous mirrored silverware. It was a set of four, and we incorporated it with our current cutlery, an inexpensive yet durable set my husband has had for over a decade. As we used the new set, we looked at each other with a giddy curiosity and agreed to enter a new era of silverware. It’s completely unnecessary, yet it has elevated our lives as we treat ourselves to such luxurious silverware.

Stay warm out there.

xoxo

Anjelica

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If you’ve had the kind of year I had in 2025, then you’d understand that setting goals for this year gave me pause. In fact, since the loss of my daughter this past June, I battle with myself internally, constantly. I feel one way, but think I’m supposed to act another. I feel like I should be devastated for each monthly anniversary of her birth, and yet there have been months where the day passes, and I didn’t acknowledge it. I feel like I should be more devastated when people around me have children, whose children grow up to be older than my daughter ever will be, but I don’t. It’s as if I want myself to feel miserable when my subconscious is saying, “Hey, it’s okay, chill out.” The wildest thing about grief is that it looks different on everyone. So, even though milestones or events don’t send me into a spiralling mess. A sock of hers that I find in a drawer that somehow got out of place will make my heart sink.

So, as the year reset, I felt like I shouldn’t plan for 2026 because of the unforeseen tragedy I experienced. I feel like I shouldn’t be motivated to look ahead, but I do. I do want to plan. I want to remain hopeful. Not to erase the existence of my daughter, but to celebrate and incorporate her into my life going forward. I am not the woman I was before my daughter was born. I am resilient and strong. I can do anything, and it pisses me off that I had to survive last year to realize that. My heart is heavy and open to welcome new life into it without overshadowing her. I want to continue to add depth to my life. I want to be around people who uplift me. I want to do the thing instead of saying I’m going to do the thing. I want to explore and travel. I want to laugh and cry. I want to aspire to be the woman I’ve dreamed of being: determined, secure, and full of life.

Maybe it’s delusional of me to decide to continue my life as if my daughter didn’t die. Because she’ll always be a part of my life. We are a family of three. I wish I could share these experiences with her. I wish I could see her grow up and surpass her own milestones. But this is the life that I’m trekking with. My pack is heavy, and I could use new shoes, but I’m not stopping until I reach the vista. So, although I have no clue what 2026 looks like for me, I’m still going to have intentions of positivity, growth, love, and vibrancy.

Resilience is the psychological quality that allows some people to be knocked down by the adversities of life and come back at least as strong as before. Rather than letting difficulties, traumatic events, or failure overcome them and drain their resolve, highly resilient people find a way to change course, emotionally heal, and continue moving toward their goals. via Psychology Today

Ins and Outs of 2026

In

• more pages less screens

• morning pages

• learning to play the drums in my thirties

• compliments (giving & receiving)

• audiobook walks

• sewing clothes

• being direct

• movies

• seasonal fruit

• challenging others’ opinions

• sourdough

• facing uncomfortable situations

Outs

• artificial sweeteners

• people pleasing

• cutting corners

• inconsistency

• expecting the worst outcome

• overpriced bad coffee

• settling

• weaponized incompetence

5 things that actually made my life better in 2025

1. Going to therapy

2. Cocofloss

3. Becoming a gym rat

4. the mantra “they are just people.”

5. Finally figuring out how to use my Breville

My 2026 Goals and Intentions

• Continue growing our family

• Finish knitting a sweater

• Attend once a week out-of-the-house hobby group (ceramics class, knitting group, etc)

• Play more tennis

• Self-publish my second novel

• Sell a story to a major publisher

• Attend a yoga class regularly

• Make a new friend

• Learn to play the drums

• Find home

Happy New Year!

xoxo Anjelica

Something I’m trying to do more of is be uncomfortable. I think there’s growth in learning to live and overcome discomfort. It’s inherent to avoid it, but it feels cowardly to do so when this year has been the most uncomfortable year of my life. I want to avoid reflecting on the year and planning for the future, but that’s not how I’m hardwired. I think seven steps ahead at all times of the day. Even as I type this, I’m thinking about how I’ll finally paste the moments I’ve saved from the year into my journal for memory-keeping. Even if the memories hurt. I have trouble staying present and find I have to put on noise-cancelling headphones to silence my mind. I’m sure this year’s reflections will be different. And I might not do a monthly play-by-play. But for my future self’s sake, I will reflect on this year of immense growth.

My 2025 vision map included the following topics:

• Motherhood Journey

• Healthy Routines

• Author Era

• Personal Pursuits

Each circle has 4-5 goals stemming from it, with the most important ones highlighted. This is the first time I’ve looked in here all year, though I know I've always had this vision map. Something that I notice myself doing since my daughter’s birth and passing a few months later, is thinking ahead and how I cannot imagine I’ll be able to follow through with a future task. An example is the days leading up to her death; I couldn’t imagine my husband and me driving home in a coherent state. I thought we would be in such a wreck we wouldn’t be able to take the drive alone. I didn’t think we’d be able to put the baby stuff we’d prepared and assembled in storage. I thought we’d need help. But we did them both in much less of a dramatic fashion than I anticipated. Of course, it was very difficult, but we got through it. Although admittedly, we haven’t gotten around to disassembling the crib.

My point is that when I finally looked through the journal, I realized that reading what I'd written wasn’t as bad as I'd thought. Surely, the biggest goal I wrote for “Motherhood Journey” was “have a safe & healthy labor & deliver a healthy baby girl,” which was only partly true; I did achieve the other goals, just in ways I didn't expect.

1. Have a safe & healthy labor & deliver a healthy baby girl; my labor was beautiful. I wouldn’t have had it any other way, and I hold that moment so special in my heart. My baby girl was not healthy, but she was perfect.

2. Incorporate our daughter in our lives; With her loss, this looks different from what I intended. Instead, I’m learning to honor her as I go on living.

3. Be open, learn, and ask questions; oh, little, naive me. The amount of things I’ve learned and questions I’ve prodded is something I probably couldn’t even grasp a year ago.

4. Improve talking about hard things with my Husband; YEAH, well, we achieved this. My husband and I’s communication improved 10x this past year, and we got there by continuing to talk about the hard things.

5. Maintaining my identity by being a mom; I’ll be honest, I struggle with this one even today. I wrote about identity a few weeks ago and the struggle with it after losing a child.

Clearly, my motherhood journey looks different from what I had hoped in 2024. It goes without saying that I wish my journey included my daughter, but this is the life I am living, and I must proceed forward because my daughter’s future siblings need me to continue to grow and improve. I need to keep improving for myself.

There’s a trend that I quickly swipe by when I come across it on social media. Usually, young women take turns putting a stick with a sign reading something they’ve accomplished or a positive thing from that year into a pie or cake. The group behind the camera cheers and claps for each woman. I swipe by because losing my daughter overshadows anything else I could ever write on my own hypothetical stick into a pie. But, I’m reminded of something I said a few times to doctors and nurses when we were in the hospital, “This is the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” I am so lucky to have had such a wonderful baby. She was so lovely and full of light. So, even though we had only 104 days with her, I am grateful for each of them.

And, I should still honor myself in celebrating the other goals I managed to achieve, even with such an immense loss. So, I’m going to force myself into recognizing them here:

Things I achieved from my 2025 Vision Map:

1. Maintain Friendships

2. Incorporate exercise as a part of my life

3. Go on a family road trip

4. Let it out!

5. Get my books into bookstores

6. Improve debts and build a financial portfolio

7. Start the Throne of Glass series

8. Keep up to date with Hobonichi Planner

9. Improve talking about hard things

10. Be open

I’m not sure what the next year will hold. I can only hope next year will be filled with healing and joy. I hope to be surrounded by kind, honest people. I hope to continue to follow what brightens my spirit.

Thank you for being a Substack subscriber. I started writing Mostly Nonsense when we were still in the hospital with my daughter. It was something I could do as a sense of escape, and since her passing, it’s been a way I can process my grief. Even if you don’t comment, I see how many of you open and read. It's comforting to know my words are being read and processed, because this journey feels so isolating.

Not many people understand a loss like this. I wouldn’t want them to, but because of that, it's hard for those around us to support us. They don’t know what to say, so they avoid it. They avoid the uncomfortable feelings of loss. Something I know for sure is that next year I will not avoid the discomfort. I will let it flow through me, try to grow beyond it, and become stronger. Like a dandelion weed through a cement block, I will still find the light no matter how hard life tries to put me down.

Happy New Year

xoxo Anjelica

Go out with friends? I might be sick that day. Start a clothing brand? There are so many brands out there already, why bother? Write a book? And crowd the romance genre with some mediocre story, pass. Buy my dream home? I’ll never be able to afford it, so why bother trying?

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As I type out the above, I recognize how ridiculous it sounds, but I can’t help it. It feels instinctual to say ‘no’ to myself. To tell myself that whatever the inkling of an idea I had is not worth pursuing. Where does that lead me? What kind of future am I shaping for myself if I continually get in my own way? Because if I look at the big picture, it doesn’t seem bright.

To combat this, I am learning to challenge my thinking. In an early therapy session, my therapist and I came up with the mantra, “What evidence do I have?” I am to ask myself this question whenever my brain starts to go down a negative path. This typically falls under my umbrella of catastrophizing thinking, but it could also apply to getting in my way. The question helps challenge negative thinking rather than accept it, with the hope that the negativity becomes less reflexive over time.

A real-life example I can share is writing and publishing my first book. Before finishing my novel, I would go to book stores, I’d see countless books filling the shelves, so I’d think, “What’s the point?” I’d tell myself things like “Who is even going to read my book when there are so many others?” or “What’s the point in writing my own romance book when there are several out there already?” It was my husband who helped to challenge my thinking. He pointed out that just because there were hundreds of books in the store didn’t mean they were all good. Or even further, it doesn’t mean they fit for every type of reader.

If they can do it, why can’t I? Those challenges are ones I repeat to myself even now as I am working to publish my next book. I remind myself that there will be space for me if I create it. I’m not sure about every market out there, but at least with books. The industry needs authors. It requires people to keep writing books. So the evidence of my negative thinking above is thwarted. The point of publishing my writing is to keep the reading industry alive.

This subject of challenging negative thinking came to mind while scrolling on TikTok, where I came across a video from a gal sharing her favorite brands that use natural fibers to make their clothing. Because I work in fashion, I find myself a snob, thinking I know every clothing brand that ever existed. However, that’s simply false. In fact, I hadn’t heard of a single brand she listed. It prompted me to go on a deep dive into following these brands and getting swirls of inspiration I haven’t felt since 2017. My mind seemed to open to ideas about clothing concepts and engage the drive to make fleeting ideas a reality. I thought this spark had been lost in me. But really, I was clouding my own outlook. I would think that there’s so much consumption in the world. Fashion is a major polluter worldwide, with millions of pounds of textile waste ending up in landfills each year. Why would I want to contribute to that?

Let’s challenge that thinking. How can I contribute to reducing that? If I can’t physically remove the waste, I can be part of the next wave of brands that train the new consumer to buy sparingly. To invest in high-quality pieces. Just because I don’t want to contribute to the world's waste doesn’t mean I have to. I can reframe the direction I choose to take if I decide to.

This article is a reminder to myself to stop getting in my own way. So, I have a place I can return to when I find myself, heels digging in the ground, fixed on convincing myself it won’t work out. If I want a vibrant future, I need to keep trying. Even if I fail, I need to try again. I need to challenge my negative thinking and start amping myself up instead of putting myself down.

I hope this resonates with you as a reader and helps you recognize your own negative thought patterns. Or perhaps you don’t suffer from this madness and can offer some advice on cultivating a positive outlook. I’m a recovering pessimist and could really use any help I can get.

xoxo

Anjelica

Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but I’m here to state my case in the defense of love.

As an author, I’ve been told many times that my writing is wasted on the romance genre. As if all romance books are fluff and trash. Sure, there may be some like that out there, but that doesn’t mean it only exists in the romance genre; it can exist in any genre. Not only do I love writing about romance, but it is my favorite genre to read. It elicits so much emotion and connection. I yearn for the characters to progress and to fall in love. So what if I want a happy ending? Sue me! Just because a story ends with a big bow neatly tied together doesn’t mean it is less significant than a novel in another genre. I choose to write romance because I love the layers of depth I can put into a story. Sure, ultimately the protagonists end up together, but the journey there is one that the reader and the characters take together. I love creating backstories for characters that readers can sink into and relate to. I love writing about hope and change. I love writing a space for readers to escape.

Last night, I put on some Christmas movies while I was decorating and sewing. Christmas is that time of year when Netflix, Hallmark, and Lifetime thrive with their romantic holiday movies. I will admit, I turn my nose up at them. But something compelled me to select a cutesy movie to play in the background as I worked on my holiday tasks. The writing is predictable and at times saccharine, but as I watched a buff snowman turn into Ted from Schitt’s Creek, I realized why this genre is beloved. We yearn for warmth. In a season when it's literally freezing outside, a warm, fluffy movie feels good for the soul. While I know it’s not everyone's taste, I had come to appreciate it for what it is and how I could follow along with the story without even looking at the screen.

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As I drove home from the gym today, I sang along to Taylor Swift’s "The Fate of Ophelia" and was reminded that, after its initial release, it was met with some sour criticism. I think every album she puts out is met with a slew of haters just out of spite. However, it was apparent that the tone of the album was vastly different from that of The Tortured Poets Department. It has upbeat songs about finding love and chasing hope. "Saved my heart from the fate of Ophelia.” Literally saying her partner saved her love from dying. She was about to lose hope of finding love until she found her partner. I think it’s such a sweet sentiment, and it makes my heart swell. It feels good to sing along to and because, as I sing her lyrics, I can feel the fondness she felt while writing.

I don’t have a boyfriend. That’s because I’m married. I have a husband! He’s the best. I’m not just saying this because he reads my Substack; I’m saying this as a response to the Vogue article. I’m not stuck in “boyfriend land”, I live in partner ville. Or wherever it is that being with a person who fits so well in my life. I live in a place where I can flourish as who I am, while being supported by someone I love. Love is being championed to live your best self. Love is doing the chores the other doesn’t want to do. Love is talking on the couch for an hour about what’s on each other’s minds. Love is comfort in the silence. Love is a full cup of water by your bed. Love is passion and devotion. Love is working through uncomfortable feelings. Love is holding each other up as you trek through the trenches together. Love is hope in a finer future, together.

I don’t think it’s embarrassing to have a boyfriend or be in love. I think it’s brave. It’s brave to let your guard down to let someone else in. For someone to see all of you and let each other adapt and mold to one another. It is easy to coward away, to be solitary and resist change. I’ve lived that life. In the past, I felt a sense of relief when a relationship ended. Because it takes effort to let another person into your life, it’s hard to be seen. It’s hard to be vulnerable and let love in. But when you can, when it’s with the right person, it’s worth it. There is strength in love. Love can heal and mend. It can keep you going. So, don’t shy away from the fluffy books and movies. Let yourself be soft and ooze into the storyline. Let yourself feel hope for a happy ending.

xoxo Anjelica