Dictation can capture the natural rhythm and momentum of storytelling—but spoken language doesn’t always translate cleanly to the page. Here’s why dictated manuscripts need a different editorial approach, and how careful editing preserves the author’s voice while shaping it into clear, compelling prose.
Some weeks, the stories don’t stall — they simply make room for other word-work. Editing, shaping, refining someone else’s manuscript is still time spent inside the craft. And when you finally return to your own blank page, you bring sharper instincts with you.
For years, I assumed my growing frustration with certain fantasy novels was a personal failing—shorter attention span, impatience, age. It turns out it wasn’t me at all. Fantasy has quietly split into two different kinds of books doing two very different things: story-first fiction and immersion-first fiction. Neither is wrong—but when you don’t know which one you’re reading, disappointment is almost guaranteed. This post is about naming that divide, understanding where it came from, and giving readers permission to stop blaming themselves when a “perfectly good” book just doesn’t work for them.
Everyone’s teaching authors how to spot scammers with lists of red flags and warning signs. But none of that works if your mindset is wrong. Because if part of you still wants the “easy way,” you’ll explain away every clue. Here’s why modern scams work — and the one shift that makes you almost impossible to fool.
Why do indie author books never show up on “Most Anticipated” lists? It’s not about quality—it’s about how the indie world works. From short release timelines to direct-to-reader communication, indie publishing plays a different game entirely. Here’s why that’s actually a very good thing for readers who love immersive series, creative freedom, and stories that don’t wait for marketing schedules.
Publishing evolves. Tools change. Platforms come and go.
But some things at Stories Rule Press are non-negotiable.
Story comes first. Readers are respected. Authors are partners.
We don’t chase trends, we don’t play games with urgency, and we don’t let algorithms decide what gets published.
We believe in thoughtful growth, careful attention, and direct relationships with the people who actually read the books.
Because if it doesn’t serve the story, the author, and the reader—we don’t do it.
As of this week, my editing calendar is booked into March.
If you’ve been thinking, “I should probably get a quote…” — this is your nudge. Editing queues don’t fill in tidy rows; they arrive in waves, overlap, and shift. And once the calendar is full, the only honest answer for new clients is: your start date will be later than you hoped.
Getting on the schedule early doesn’t obligate you. It simply protects your timeline — before a finished manuscript runs out of time to become a better one.
Right now the to-do list is loud. Fulfill a 660%-funded Kickstarter. Edit other writers’ books. Run a publishing company. Market existing titles. Keep upcoming releases on track. And somewhere in there is a quiet little line that says: Write the next book.
That line is always the easiest to slide.
Because it doesn’t yell. It doesn’t send invoices. It doesn’t have shipping deadlines. It just waits — patiently — while everything else feels urgent.
Galactic empires are everywhere in science fiction—ruling star systems with absolute power, ripe for rebellion or decay. I’ve written a few myself… and torn them down just as quickly. But why do we keep returning to this political model, especially when it’s always doomed to fall? From Dune to Foundation, and even John Scalzi’s surprisingly heartfelt Collapsing Empire, we seem obsessed with watching these mighty regimes unravel. I’ve got theories. But I’m also genuinely curious what draws readers back to the throneworld.
The timelines are no longer bending.
They’re breaking.
Across centuries, lovers are separated, history is rewritten, and a family of vampires and time travellers discover that the past is no longer safe — and neither is the future.
In Kiss Across Time Box Three, saving the people you love may mean risking the collapse of time itself.
