Something new is in the edit — a love story in thirty cups.
There’s a novel on the desk that nobody has heard about yet.
It’s about coffee. Which is to say it isn’t about coffee at all — it’s about a life measured out in cups, and the different shapes love takes across one. First love. The kind that shows up as a mentor and doesn’t announce itself. The kind you have to forgive at a funeral. The kind that’s been sitting across the table for forty years and still asks how you take it.
Thirty-odd chapters, each one anchored to a cup.
Two things worth saying about it early. It’s funny — genuinely, start to finish. Not a comedy, but if you don’t find yourself laughing somewhere in the first fifty pages, then it was done wrong. And the losses in it take a sentence, while the love takes pages. That was a rule set before writing a word, and it held, which is not always the case. 🙂
It’s in editing now. More when there’s more.
