On the Brink of My Fourth Book

In less than a week, on August 29th, my fourth novel, Nornöns eko, will be released. It took me four years to write, and along the way, it went through several changes: I shifted the POV from third to first person, rewrote the inciting moment to raise the stakes, and aimed to make the text more intimate, vivid, and emotionally charged. I wanted to entertain and provide escape, but I also didn't shy away from sensitive topics. Whether or not I’ve succeeded is for readers to decide, but I gave it all I could. I waver between feeling deeply proud of the finished product and being utterly exhausted by the entire manuscript! Like, I couldn’t possibly read it ever again. More than once, I asked myself: Does the world really need this book? Another novel in an ocean of titles published each year? What am I adding to the conversation? And what even is my conversation?

Here’s what I’ve come to realize: the world may not have needed this book, but I did. Once the characters started speaking to me—whispering that their stories were incomplete—I knew I had to continue Zoë, JG, and Linn’s journey from Nornö to the place they could finally call home, both physically and emotionally. I also believe my voice is unique—not because I consider myself more talented than other writers (there are countless authors I admire who I think do it better), but because my life experiences as a Haitian American who relocated to Sweden, married a Swede, and raised a family here give me a perspective that isn’t often represented. I feel I have something worthwhile to contribute: stories that transcend boundaries, explore unlikely relationships, and present nuanced narratives that are not given enough space in mainstream literature, especially in Sweden.

I’m nervous as Nornöns eko moves from “Notify Me” to “Available” online and onto shelves. But before that happens, here are my takeaways from the long and winding journey of bringing this book to life:

1. When one path closes, find another. My experience with a previous editor was extremely difficult. It left me doubting myself and tempted to abandon the book. But the characters wouldn’t let me. Their voices kept me going until Nornöns eko found a new place to flourish.

2. Seek professional guidance when you’re stuck. I worked with a coach to strengthen my author mindset and a developmental editor to help shape the manuscript. Those investments made a huge difference.

3. Lean on the writing community. Sharing struggles (and the occasional triumph) with other writers has been a reminder that I’m not alone. Their encouragement and advice were invaluable during moments of doubt.

4. The publishing-industrial complex is as chaotic and competitive as ever. There are more books on the market, fast-moving trends, and an industry landscape that is full of contradictions. I’ve felt disillusioned and anxious, but I believe that good writing, compelling stories, and persistence still win out.

5. Enough with eternal gratitude. I was conditioned to be endlessly grateful just to be published. Gratitude matters, but let’s be clear: without writers, there is no publishing industry. I’d love to see more respect, transparency, and professionalism from agents and editors. Ghosting and condescending form letters shouldn’t be the norm. With AI and technological change disrupting everything, valuing real storytellers is more important than ever.

6. It takes the time it takes. I used to beat myself up for not writing quickly, but I juggle family, volunteer commitments, travel, and life between two countries. Although my routine is far from perfect, the years of gestation and editing made Nornöns eko stronger. If I’d forced it out in a year, it wouldn’t be the book it is today.

7. Working with the Swedish translation was both easier and difficult this time around. Over twenty-five years in Sweden has sharpened my ear for the language, letting me catch tone and rhythm more easily. Still, it also made me pickier, agonizing over single words to preserve the characters’ voices and emotional weight. I had to balance trusting the translator’s expertise with following my author instincts.

8. Be clear with your team. No one knows your book like you do. With this novel, I communicated my vision more confidently than ever before. Four books in, I feel more seasoned, more certain about what I want.

9. Social media matters. Like it or not, an online presence is essential for a middle-aged, mid-list writer like me. The opportunities for connection are extraordinary, and I’ve enjoyed learning new skills and creating content to engage with readers.

10. Readers make it all worthwhile. Above all, I’m grateful to the readers who connected with Sommaren på Nornö and wanted more. To friends, colleagues, and the literary community—online and in person—who encouraged me every step of the way: thank you. You’ve kept me going.

SUMMER STATE OF MIND

HAPPY SUMMER! It’s been a while, mostly due to my shoulder surgery in April, which made typing painful. Once I started feeling better, I dove straight into final edits for Nornöns eko. My new novel comes out on August 29th, and I'm so excited to reintroduce the characters from Nornö to readers!

That said, an August pub date means this will be a working summer. I’ve been wondering why I’ve felt so mentally drained lately, and then it hit me: I’ve been working on this manuscript for four years, in two languages. It was written and edited in English, then translated into Swedish, and subsequently reedited in Swedish. Puh!  The upside? My Swedish vocabulary and literary range have grown significantly. The language no longer feels as limited to me as it once did, and I’m genuinely proud of the result.

There’s still one more round of corrections to review, but once the manuscript goes to print, it’s officially out of my hands. However, much work remains behind the scenes in terms of marketing and promotion, so I’ve decided to dedicate my mornings—until noon—to book work. After that, the rest of the day will be for physical activity, mental rest, and quality time with family and friends.

While a heatwave is scorching continental Europe, the weather here in Sweden—especially in the archipelago—has been cool, windy, and rainy. I’m a little worried for the weeks ahead. We wait all year for these long, bright summer days. Is it too much to ask for a little warmth and consistency?! I know I shouldn’t dwell on the weather, but summer always comes with high expectations, and when the sun doesn’t deliver, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Interestingly, I’ve been reading about coolcations—how more and more travelers are choosing Scandinavia for their summer holidays to escape the extreme heat elsewhere. I guess the grass really is greener on the other side.

That said, cloudy skies are the perfect excuse to clean and declutter. I’ve promised myself I’ll finally tackle the old drawers and cabinets. With two twentysomethings who no longer live at home full-time, our seaside cottage feels like an archive of bygone summers—sailing camps, tennis clinics, waterskiing lessons, a collection of Boat ’n Tote bags, personalized towels. It takes some effort not to slip into sadness or nostalgia, but the kids have been bringing new friends from college and the U.S. to the island, and I’m learning to appreciate these shorter, more intense visits as their own kind of magic.

Now that most of the editing is behind me, I hope to carry a more carefree mindset and enjoy my seasonal favorites: Wimbledon, flowers blooming in the garden, raspberry bushes, pretty sundresses, colorful manicures, sailboats drifting by, ombré skies, and the sound of birds chirping at first light. These simple pleasures remind me to live in the present and that joy often lies in everyday moments.

In the evenings, I love curling up on the couch with my remote and a menu of movies and series to choose from. My recent viewing includes Mobland, Sirens, Department Q, and the Danish mystery Reservatet (also known as Secrets We Keep). I'm a sucker for a good prestige drama and Your Friends and Neighbors, The Studio, and Mountainhead did not disappoint. I’m excited to start the adaptation of Alafair Burke’s The Better Sister  and Lena Dunham’s romcom, Too Much, next. Watching screen content isn't just for entertainment; it's teaching me a lot about pacing, structure, and character development. I'm approaching storytelling through a more cinematic lens, which has been both inspiring and enlightening for my novel writing.

Of course, I haven’t given up on reading! I devoured The Doorman by Chris Pavone, a propulsive, smart page-turner (that would translate seamlessly to the screen), and my summer TBR list includes: These Summer Storms, Bring the House Down, Culpability, Finding Grace, and Among Friends. I still have a pile of books from last summer, as well, so my goal is to read at least two books a week.

Wishing you golden days and new adventures—whatever your version of summer looks like!

Beyond Nornö: Adventures in Writing a Sequel

My new novel—coming this Fall!

I couldn’t wait to unveil the cover of my new novel, Nornöns Eko! I love everything about it—the image of a young woman leisurely floating on her back, the title, the font… A book cover conveys so much, and I wanted this one to catch your attention and signal that my story was moving in a new direction.

However, when Sommaren på Nornö was published, I never imagined I would write a sequel. Nornöns Eko can most definitely be read as a standalone novel, but I rely on the main characters from the first book to drive this new storyline forward. Still, while I had the creative freedom to explore new territory, the endeavor presented me with some technical and literary challenges.

One of the first difficulties I encountered was realizing that I was unintentionally boxed in by details I had introduced in the first novel—details that I now had to honor. Zoë Holmgren’s father, JG Latour, for example, lived in Miami, meaning much of the sequel needed to unfold there. This geographic shift necessitated a crash course in Miami neighborhoods, landmarks, and restaurants, along with a research trip to capture the city’s vibe firsthand. But as I got to know Miami better, it was almost as though I could see Zoë walking its streets and taking in the rhythm of life around her.

JG also had two Haitian parents and three sisters (with seven children between them). What began as passing references now required me to develop an entire extended family, ensuring each character had a distinct identity. But the deeper I dove into their personalities, the less daunting it became. In fact, their existence heightened the drama, creating space for cultural clashes and complicated family dynamics.

Another limitation I hadn’t anticipated was the timeline. Sommaren på Nornö was intentionally set in 2019 to avoid including the pandemic. However, the sequel unfolds two years later, meaning I had to acknowledge real-world events and pick up the narrative after that period. At first, this felt like a restriction, but in hindsight, the pandemic created a natural pause—an opportunity to explore how my characters had changed during those lost years. Their experiences reflected a shared ordeal, so the fear, isolation, and uncertainty would resonate with readers.

I also learned to stretch my imagination in unexpected ways. Rather than play it safe with beloved characters, I challenged myself to present them from a different angle. I love reading about flawed and messy characters, yet I sometimes instinctively want to make mine likable. This time, I leaned into their questionable traits and uncomfortable choices because that’s reality. It was both liberating and necessary to let my characters make mistakes, struggle, and evolve in ways that felt authentic.

Writing a sequel also forced me to think about balance—between consistency and growth, the familiar and the unexpected. Readers return for established characters and enduring themes, but a sequel must introduce new issues and obstacles. It should build upon what came before without simply repeating it. At the same time, I had to consider whether the book should stand alone or lean heavily on its predecessor. I wanted new readers to enjoy Nornöns Eko without feeling lost, but I also wanted to reward returning readers with more intricate layers of the story.

Finding the right amount of exposition was one of the trickiest parts. Too much, and the narrative slows down with unnecessary backstory; too little, and new readers might struggle to understand the stakes. I had to weave past events into the story organically—through dialogue, flashbacks, and subtle references—rather than relying on long stretches of explanation. Through multiple revisions, I aimed to create an environment where both returning and first-time readers could immerse themselves fully in the world of the novel.

Perhaps the biggest lesson was understanding the raison d’être of this sequel. It had to propel the story in a meaningful way, not just exist for the sake of continuation. Many readers assumed the suggestive ending of Sommaren på Nornö hinted at a sequel. I thought I was being artsy with my vagueness—haha—but their feedback inspired me to be bolder, unleashing a wave of new ideas. The stakes had to be bigger, more personal, and timely. Nevertheless, I needed to respect reader expectations—some crave more of what they liked, while others want to be surprised—and maintain the emotional core of the narrative. I think finding that sweet spot is the essence of writing a sequel.

Though some days were more difficult than others, I embraced the process, knowing it was essential for my growth as a writer. I learned to shape plot points with greater intention, think more expansively, and trust my instincts. What once felt impossible became all-consuming. More than anything, I fell in love with my characters all over again. They felt like old friends, and I became deeply invested in their lives and possibilities. So, readers, I hope you will be too!