I have a new hobby so, of course, I have to tell you all about it. Are we even (internet) friends if you don’t have to sit and listen to my random enthusiasms? I think not.

OK, so technically this is not a new-new hobby. I have piles of old scrapbooks to prove it. I’ve also done mixed media collage before. Remember my tarot-inspired collage paintings?

And now the two have come together in a new, fun way. But let me back up a bit. It started with my writing notebook. I started keeping one last year – it’s a place to write down story ideas and characters, iterate plot outlines, track my writing progress, make writing to-do lists, etc. Because I’m still a kid with a stationery fetish at heart, I had to make my notebook look pretty: pick one with a cute cover, use coloured pens to write, add stickers. I have a low-key “vintage” sticker obsession. [That is to say, I love stickers with vintage designs, especially anything to do with flowers, butterflies, books, astrology, tarot, and magic-related symbols.] I have been collecting stickers and sticker books for years but I also suffer from that problem where you keep “saving” stuff because it’s “too pretty to use”. Know what I’m talking about? Well, I bit the bullet and started actually using my stickers and adding them to my writing notebook.

And it was fun! It reminded me of my old scrapbooks, where I’d cut out pictures from magazines and make little collages around my scribblings – random musings, poetry, you name it. I went and pulled them out of storage and had a lovely walk down memory lane. [Actually, some of my old poetry, angsty as it was, isn’t half bad.] And it fired up the old spark again. I decided I wanted to start a new project: a decorated book where I could collect bits and bobs of inspiration, like a moodboard to go alongside my writing notebook. A collection of quotes, ideas, poetry, pretty images, etc. A good friend of mine who’s into scrapbooking told me the technical term for that is a “commonplace book”. So that’s what I set out to do.

I found a nice, big notebook – technically a drawing notebook (from the dollar store) because I wanted thicker paper so my pens (Sharpie ultra fine markers) wouldn’t bleed through too much – and got my other supplies together: sticker books, leftover magazine cutouts (from my collage days), tape. Yes, regular old tape. Try not to be too horrified. But my idea was to create something pretty lo-fi at first, so the “taped together” look was intentional. [Mostly; it was also just convenient and I’m lazy.]

As with all creative projects, it began to evolve – quickly. I started getting more adventurous with my compilations and slowly moved towards a more visuals-heavy, collage-based approach.

I eventually did some basic Googling and discovered tape runner, which was a gamechanger. Basically, imagine glue and whiteout correction tape having a baby – that’s a tape runner.  It’s so easy to use and perfect for paper-based collages. I started with the name brand stuff (Scotch), then moved to the no-name version because … well, I was going through a lot of the stuff quickly. It was a collage extravaganza!

Creating these is basically the perfect relaxation activity – especially if I throw on a fave mystery show in the background for company. It has done the most to help me cut back on my phone screen time in the evenings; being tired and looking to decompress is when I’m most vulnerable to the siren call of doomscrolling, and this is a fantastic replacement for that. It requires very little dexterity or skill, so it’s pure creative expression. Every step of the process is fun, from going through old magazines and tearing out interesting images and useful scraps, to assembling a new collage. When I started, I was really focused on “statement” images, the ones that can serve as the focal point of a collage. But the more I experimented, moving towards “full page” collages, the more I realized that the “background” bits are equally important. And it became a fun challenge to develop an eye for useful scraps that can be layered to create interesting tableaux. It’s all about colours, textures, patterns, juxtaposition.

The hardest part is sourcing magazines, which are my preferred media for creating collages. I have a fairly large collection of fashion magazines at home, which I have been judiciously pruning for many years now. Some, I don’t want to touch because they’re special editions or very old; many have already been pruned as much as I’m willing to go, because I don’t want to destroy them altogether. I used to find a lot of magazines at the thrifts, but that is no longer the case – especially for fashion ones like Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar (my faves, because they have the best editorial photos shoots with interesting set-ups and themes). I’ve looked into other options, like FB Marketplace; years ago, I lucked into buying someone’s massive collection of hundreds of old magazines for, like, a hundred bucks. Sadly, I haven’t found a deal like that again. A lot of sellers seem to be asking $5 per issue and up. In contrast, Value Village is a relative bargain at about $2 per issue. I also recently realized that non-fashion magazines, like National Geographic, can be good sources for “background” scraps – landscape photos often have very interesting colours and patterns. Those at least are easier to find.

Here’s a collage in progress:

And the final result:

If you want to try your hand, this is one of the easiest and cheapest creative hobbies to start. You need minimal supplies, some of which you probably already have; the rest can be acquired fairly inexpensively. A notebook (mine is 8 x 11 in, but you can start with a smaller one), a good pair of scissors, paper scraps and ephemera, tape runner (or tape or glue), and pens (optional). For the paper scraps and ephemera (a fancy word for odds and ends), you can scavenge around the house first; lots of things can be useful, from old wrapping paper to pretty labels to greeting cards to magazines, etc.

The thrift stores are also great places to source your stock, of course. In addition to magazines, I now also look for old, damaged books – especially vintage books (yellowed paper and interesting fonts) and art books. The idea of tearing up books makes me physically ill, but if they are already damaged (severe water marks, torn up covers, etc.), it’s easier to think of the process as giving old paper new life.

I would love to report something fun and exciting, but this week was the exact opposite of that. My kids’ flu finally caught up to me and it was my turn to be utterly miserable. I’ve been lucky over the past two years to dodge most of their bugs, but that also means that I’ve lost my tolerance (lol!) for being sick. So, now I’m just a big, whiny baby when I don’t feel well. Fun!

I somehow managed to drag myself through an almost-full week of work, but I had no energy left for anything else. The amount of guilt I’ve been feeling over missing the self-set goals I had for the week – everything from exercise to writing to reading – is honestly kinda pathological. Productivity mindset is a modern scourge, I tell you! I thought I had made progress in terms of letting go of the idea that I have to be productive all of the time, and that rest is something I have to earn, but weeks like these serve as a reminder that the indoctrination goes deep and I’ve still got a long way to go towards a healthier mindset.

I’ve also been having another spiral of self-doubt as a writer – being sick does a number of my mental health in every way, it seems – and it was my poor editor who got the short of that stick this week. We had a Zoom call to talk about her editorial feedback on my next book, which got slightly derailed when my insecurities reared their heads and she got stuck having to reassure me that my writing is not, in fact, a ‘steaming pile of sh*t’. (LOL. I may have been a little loopy with cold & flu meds on top of everything else.) Don’t worry, we got things back on track and had a very productive (yikes, that word again) meeting that left me with clarity on what I need to do to push the book over the finish line.

It also gave me a new insight into the overarching theme of the book, which is, basically, a woman getting her groove back and winning all the prizes. Definitely not Booker prize territory, haha! But we all sometimes need a story where everything works out just perfectly.

Full disclosure: sales of Murder Takes a Holiday have been slow, which is a bummer, and on top of that I’ve been having some issues with my Kindle Unlimited reads, which have been stressing me out. But the first review and ratings have started coming in, and they’ve been very positive! If my books can make a difference for even a handful of readers – entertain them, cheer them up, bring a little lightness and joy in their lives – then it’s all worth it.

One of the rare highlights of the week was getting in some extra cuddle time with my daughter (who was also sick) after I finally convinced her to start watching Midsomer Murders reruns with me. I think she’s hooked! She’s a mystery-loving girlie, like me, but is picky about her preferred vibes. Sadly, Poirot didn’t do it for her; I think she prefers contemporary settings. She’s definitely a fan of the inventive ways people murder each other in Midsomer – we keep a running commentary of who’s going to die next in each episode and how. Honestly? She might be better than me at guessing the murderer, haha!

Have a great weekend!

Being a writer in 2026 is weird. I mean, it might be equally valid to say that being in 2026 is weird, period. But today I wanna talk about weird writer sh*t, so … yeah.

I will not bore you with a litany of all the reasons why choosing to publish my first proper book in 2026 was an ill-timed decision. If I could jump into a time machine – if, you know, I had one parked outside, ready to go – I would choose literally any other time to launch myself into the indie publishing sphere. 2019 would have been a great year … but I digress. Publishing’s never been an easy industry. And then genAI came along and threw another wrench into its already complicated works. It’s a topic I’m loath to touch because the internet is foaming at the mouth about it and I value my peace. For me the issue is pretty black and white – I have not and will not use genAI for any creative endeavors whatsoever – but I see no benefit and have no interest either in justifying my own opinion or changing other people’s opinions. But there are ripple effects that are impacting all writers, regardless of their personal stance, and that’s what I want to talk about.

A lot of the concerns I’m about to address have been percolating for a while, but they were starkly illustrated in the discourse around the recent Shy Girl brouhaha. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, let me quickly bring you up to speed.

Shy Girl was originally a self-published horror novel by indie author Mia Ballard, who had other self-pub titles under her belt. [Full disclosure: I have not read any of Ballard’s books and my knowledge of her is limited to the information that was circulated in the wake of the Shy Girl debacle.] The book originally came out in early 2025, and was successful enough to attract the attention of Hachette, one of the Big 5 (traditional) publishers, who acquired the rights to it and proceeded to re-issue the book under one of their imprints – first in the UK in Nov 2025, with a US release planned for April 2026.

From the start, Shy Girl was dodged by allegations of genAI use. To be clear, this occurred prior to the Hachette acquisition but seemed to pick up speed last fall, especially after a popular Booktuber made a detailed video about the book and its issues. [I watched it and found it informative, though I am not here to co-sign its conclusions since, as noted, I have not read the book myself.] Fast forward to now: the New York Times published an article documenting its investigation of the allegations against Shy Girl, stating that (based on analysis using several AI detection tools) it found “recurring patterns characteristic of AI generated text, like gaps in logic, excessive use of melodramatic adjectives and an overreliance on the rule of three.” The next day, Hachette announced that it was cancelling the US release of Shy Girl and pulling it from shelves in the UK, citing its commitment to “original creative expression and storytelling.”

This is all by way of context. I am not here to re-argue the case for or against Shy Girl. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But, as an (indie) author, I can tell you that this case is the opposite of a victory for authors – and for “original creative expression”.

First and foremost, for me, it illustrates that traditional publishers are emperors with no clothes. They might hold themselves out as the (gate)keepers of professional writing standards, but Shy Girl shows that they will happily forego any vetting or quality assurance in the pursuit of a quick buck. This case also undermines the notion that traditional publishers are reliable partners for authors. They were happy to exploit Ballard’s popularity only to subsequently hang her out to dry when it became clear that she was more of a public liability than an asset. Again, this is not a question of whether the allegations against the book are true or not. It’s about the fact that Hachette acquired this book in the first place, only to turn around later and decide that it did not live up to its commitment to “original creative expression and storytelling.” Wasn’t it their job to figure that out beforehand? And if they’re not doing their job, what’s the benefit for an author of signing with a trad publisher?

Let me put it this way: it seems pretty clear Hachette did zero or minimal editing on this book, or else presumably they would have noticed its ‘questionable’ patterns long before now. That doesn’t exonerate Ballard if, indeed, she used genAI. But editing is one of the fundamental jobs of a traditional publisher; it’s why authors pursue trad pub, so they don’t have to pay for their own professional editing out of pocket. Forget AI for a second. A publisher who doesn’t edit a book – for basic grammar and formatting, if nothing else – is doing a disservice to both the author and the readers. If they are not doing their job, why are they getting paid?

Second, this case reinforces the public perception of self-published works as “slop” and, more pertinently, as “probably AI slop”, which hurts indie authors in several ways.

One, it encourages AI witch hunts and, at the same time, reinforces the idea that genAI usage can be reliably detected. Never mind that it can’t be. Never mind false positives. At this point in time, accusations of AI usage are pretty much career-ending events, especially for indie authors. The public might be willing to accept the likelihood of false allegations as a “necessary evil”, but for an author like me, it’s a terrifying prospect. There is still a TON of debate over the accuracy of AI detection tools like the ones used by The New York Times, and there are plenty of people who don’t even bother with tools and make accusations on the basis of things like em dash usage and general “vibes”.

Two, it makes readers less inclined to give indie authors a chance. I’ve seen countless comments online (in discussions of this case) from people saying they won’t read books from new authors written after 2021 or 2022 because of the potential use of genAI. Basically, all indie authors are being tagged as automatically suspect, regardless of their stated stance. You can imagine what it feels like to read that, as someone who is publishing books in 2026 and who is staunchly on the anti side.

Three, it de-incentivizes the disclosure of actual genAI use. Again, I’ve seen countless comments from pro-AI writers to the effect that they will continue to hide/not disclose their usage so as to circumvent the anti-AI sentiment of the reading public. This will only serve to reinforce the negative feedback loop of the previous issue. Ironically, it will also undoubtedly result in many AI-generated books flying under the “radar” while other, non-AI generated books will be cancelled for suspected AI use. Fun, fun, fun.

Coming on top of everything else, it’s enough to make one want to quit writing altogether. Well, quit publishing, at any rate.

All that being said, I have a lot of sympathy for readers too – I am one myself, after all. It’s a sh*tshow out there and one thing is clear: the corporations will not be riding in to save us from the mess. They’ll just make the mess, messier.