Solar Sail Theory isn’t about finding stronger sources of momentum. It’s about becoming better at capturing thousands of weak sources of momentum that already exist.
One newsletter subscriber won’t change your life. One podcast appearance won’t transform your business. One new reader or conference conversation or bookstore event won’t either.
Individually, they’re almost insignificant.
That’s why the sail is enormous.
After twelve novels and a novella, the journey comes to its conclusion. Camlann, the final novel in Tracy Cooper-Posey’s acclaimed Once and Future Hearts series, is now available from Stories Rule Press and all major retailers.
Every writer thinks the manuscript is in pretty good shape—right up until the editorial feedback arrives. From confidence and outrage to revision, gratitude, and complete memory loss, here are the twelve stages writers cycle through when an editor gets involved.
A thriller writer’s Google search history can look alarmingly criminal—especially when questions about silencers, DNA and extradition sit beside tomato varieties, bitter cucumbers and homemade hummus.
Hollywood saw a beautiful woman. Hedy Lamarr was also an inventor whose wartime work helped point the way toward modern wireless communications. Her history is far more fascinating than the movie-star image suggests.
We all know about compounding, but very few of us truly understand it. The real magic isn’t in one newsletter, one blog post, one book, or one workout. It’s in the quiet accumulation of thousands of small increments that, over time, become something far greater than the sum of their parts. Solar Sail Theory isn’t about finding a shortcut—it’s about patiently building enough sail to catch the wind that’s already there.
Kevin Kelly’s latest essay introduced me to a concept I hadn’t quite considered before: the “exoself.” Not a humanoid robot, but an AI that becomes an extension of our own minds through memory, context, and continuity. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we may already be taking the first steps toward that future—one useful conversation at a time.
What makes a book unforgettable? It often isn’t the plot—it’s the people. The characters who quietly step onto the page, feel completely real, and stay with us long after we’ve finished the final chapter.
Some of the most memorable people in our lives were never the main characters. The same is true in fiction. If your supporting characters exist only to deliver information or move the plot along, your story misses an opportunity to create a richer, more believable world. Every character should feel like they have a life beyond the page.
Years after finishing a novel, it’s rarely the plot we remember best. It’s the people. The quiet characters who felt real, who made us laugh, who gave the story its heart. Those are the ones who stay with us—and perhaps that’s true of the people we meet in life, too.
