Three Stories, One Direction2026: Three Stories, One DirectionThree Stories, One Direction

As I look ahead to 2026, my writing life is guided by three clear, parallel goals.
A quiet, cozy fantasy about an ageing wizard discovering his true calling.

As I look ahead to 2026, my writing life is guided by three clear, parallel goals.

A quiet, cozy fantasy about an ageing wizard discovering his true calling.
The continued querying of The Nexus Protocol.
And the careful establishment of The Adventures of Jack the Cat as a lasting body of work after its final book.

On the surface, these projects sit in very different worlds. In practice, they are deeply connected. Together, they reflect how my priorities as a writer have shifted and where I want to place my attention in the year ahead.

A New Country, A Slower Rhythm

One of the most significant changes shaping these goals is my move to Portugal.

Building a new life in a different culture has altered my sense of time. Days feel less compressed. Routine has space to breathe. Small moments matter more. Walking becomes thinking. Silence becomes useful rather than uncomfortable.

This change has affected how I write. I am less interested in urgency now and more interested in alignment. Less focused on output and more focused on depth. The work I want to do in 2026 needs to fit the life I am building, not compete with it.

That shift is visible in every project I am carrying forward.

A Wizard at the End of His Certainties

My primary creative focus for 2026 is a cozy fantasy centred on an older wizard who has already lived the life he was meant to live, or so he believes. He has stability, reputation, and a clear function in the world. What he lacks is a sense that his work still matters to him.

The story unfolds quietly, through routine, observation, and small acts of care. Magic exists, but rarely announces itself. It shows up in habits, in instinctive decisions, and in moments where the ordinary bends just enough to reveal meaning.

What interests me most is not the fantasy, but the emotional question underneath it. What happens when your true calling arrives late, after you have learned how to endure rather than dream?

This book demands patience and restraint. It trusts atmosphere and interiority to carry weight. Writing it feels less like invention and more like listening. In many ways, it mirrors the experience of starting again in a new place, where meaning is rebuilt slowly, one familiar detail at a time.

The Long Game with The Nexus Protocol

Alongside this quieter work, The Nexus Protocol continues its journey through literary agents.

Querying is not dramatic. It is procedural, quiet, and emotionally uneven. You send something carefully made into the world and wait. Often, there is silence. Sometimes, there is rejection. Occasionally, there is interest.

This novel represents a different side of my creative identity. It is sharp, contemporary, and psychologically tense. Where the cozy fantasy slows the world down, The Nexus Protocol interrogates acceleration, control, and the cost of intelligence without conscience.

One of my goals for 2026 is to remain steady and professional throughout this process. Whatever the outcome, the book has already shaped me as a writer. It taught me structure, discipline, and how to sustain pressure across a full-length narrative. Querying it is not about chasing validation. It is about giving the work the chance it deserves.

After the Last Light

With the final book of The Adventures of Jack the Cat now complete, a different kind of work begins.

For years, Jack was the project. The world, the characters, the long arc toward an ending that mattered. Finishing that journey did not feel like closure. It felt like responsibility.

In 2026, one of my central goals is to establish Jack not as a series that ended, but as a world that deserves care.

This is not about endless continuation or dilution. It is about stewardship. Understanding what readers connected with. Preserving the emotional identity of the books. Ensuring that the series has a consistent presence, presentation, and voice beyond its final volume.

Distance helps with this. Living in a new country has given me the perspective to look at the series not from inside the work, but from alongside it. That distance makes intention possible.

One Practice, Many Forms

These three goals may look separate, but they are part of a single practice.

In 2026, I want to work with patience rather than urgency. With consistency rather than noise. With attention rather than acceleration.

Each project serves a different purpose, but all of them are grounded in the same values. Care for craft. Respect for the reader. And a willingness to think in years rather than launches.

If there is a guiding principle for the year ahead, it is this. Stories do not need to shout to be heard. They need to be made honestly and given the time to find their place.

That is the direction I am choosing for 2026.