It began beside a fire.
I began working on Night and Day when I was twenty years old.
It started with a scene that still exists almost unchanged today: two men sitting beside a fire, speaking about whether they deserved to be loved. That conversation eventually became Chapter 66, The Song of Teziah. Around it, an entire world began to form.
Before I had properly begun the novel, I spent almost a year building that world—its history, its gods, its timelines, the Kaleidoscope of Fate. I have always loved worldbuilding, but Night and Day became something different. It was the first time I began to understand what kind of writer I wanted to be.
The first draft of Book I became a playground. I was twenty, and every few chapters I seemed to discover some new storytelling tool and immediately wanted to play with it. I experimented wildly, failed often, kept what worked and abandoned what did not. Somewhere in that process, I took the first steps toward finding a voice of my own.
I am still finding it. I hope I always will be. A writer’s voice is not something you discover one day and then possess forever; it is something you keep refining as you change. But every journey needs a beginning, and mine required a leap of faith, a great deal of experimentation and plenty of failure.
