It’s been a busy month and it’s not slowing down anytime soon. July has been filled with bike rides (when the Canandian wildfire smoke wasn’t forcing us indoors) and yard work (when the oppressive heat and humidity weren’t forcing us indoors). This week has finally been cooler and smoke-free and it’s put me in SUCH a good mood.

Do you prefer temps in the lower 70s or do you prefer summer to feel like you stepped into a sauna? No judgment here if you prefer cooking in an oven. ;)

Need a Reading Rec?

Summer is the perfect time to lounge in a shady spot with a good book. Three of mine — Chasing the Sun, The Trail Rules, and The Quiet Unraveling of Eve Ellaway — take place in the summer and will transport you to Portland, Boulder, and good ol’ Grand Haven!

Grab your copy now ››

Calling All Writers!

This fall, I’m teaching a writing workshop that will focus on getting through writing the middle of a novel. I know my tricks and techniques, but I’d love to hear from my writer friends as well.

If you have a few minutes, would you mind filling out this form? ››

Conquering the Saggy Middle

ICYMI: Following My Own Advice

I’ve been writing books for almost twenty years. (Side note: holy crap.) I’ve published 10, written 14, and have 2 lingering in half-finished first-draftdom. You could say I’ve learned I’ve learned a thing or two about the writing process in that time.

Read the full post ››

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I’ve been writing books for almost twenty years. (Side note: holy crap.) I’ve published 10, written 14, and have 2 lingering in half-finished first-draftdom. You could say I’ve learned I’ve learned a thing or two about the writing process in that time.

I’ve given numerous presentations to aspiring authors and young adults, I’ve brainstormed and cried and vented with writing friends, and I’ve beamed when readers compliment my writing.

So you’d THINK books would just flow out of me, right?

Ha.

In case you didn’t hear the sarcasm in that, I’ll say it again.

HA!

As any writer will tell you, finishing one or five or twenty books doesn’t make the process easier. It makes PARTS of it easier, sure, but the self-doubt, frustration, and shiny squirrels never go away. There’s still always a point when you question why you ever thought anyone would want to read your brain vomit — for me that’s two-thirds of the way through the first draft, then again while editing — and it can be really hard to move past that point.

So what do you do?

I’ve been working on my latest novel, It’s Always Been You, for what feels like eons. I was midway through the first draft when I took my much-needed sabbatical in 2023, went back to it in the spring 2025, and have been revising since fall 2025.

*checks calendar*

Friends, I am DEEP in the chasm of self-doubt. My agent has given me spectacular advice on how to turn my domestic suspense into an honest-to-goodness thriller, but there’s just SO MUCH to do. Recently, I was whining about this to my husband and he had the AUDACITY to throw my own advice back in my face:

Like I said, THE AUDACITY.

But of course he’s right.

I understand what needs to change, and I’m fairly confident I have the skills to do it, but my brain keeps focusing on how much this story has changed since my initial baby suspense idea and I start to panic, when what I need to do is start small. Break down the big scary task into individual steps. Don’t worry about the end result.

So that’s what I did. I simplified my feedback down to a handful of basic ideas:

›› X is no longer an antagonist
›› cut the parents from the opening chapter
›› introduce Y in chapter one, instead of later in the book
›› cut adorable opening scene and reduce to two sentences

The good thing is, the second half of the book will remain largely intact. I’m learning that with thrillers, BIG things need to happen immediately. Like in the first chapter. My draft has the required tension in the second half — I just need to up the stakes from page one. Which is why the adorable opening scene had to go.

*mourns killed darlings*

So many killed darlings. I always save the scenes I cut and I swear I have enough material for another book. I’ve completely rewritten the opening chapter three times and I think it’s almost where it needs to be. After that, the rest should fall into place.

And I’ll keep telling myself that until it’s done.

The Grand Rapids Literary Festival is underway! This evening I’ll be at Books & Mortar in East Grand Rapids for a young adult panel, then Sunday I’ll be selling books at the Adult Book Fair at the 6th Street Polish Hall. There are events all week, so if you love books and are in the area, be sure to check out the full lineup!

Young Adult Author Panel

Wednesday, June 24th | 6-8:00pm
Books & Mortar Bookstore
966 Cherry Street SE, Grand Rapids, MI 49506

Adult Book Fair

Sunday, June 28th | 2-6:00pm
6th Street Polish Hall
649 6th Street NW, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49504

In writing news, I’m deeper into my edits of It’s Always Been You, and I recently published a blog post about the tenth anniversary of my sister’s death. Next month, I’ll be traveling to Chicago to attend Rachel Lynn Solomon’s book event and I CANNOT wait! I’ve adored her writing for years and am thrilled to get to finally meet her.

If you need a summer read, The Campfire Series is a lighthearted, dual-POV, young adult contemporary romance that follows teens as they fall in love during “celestial events”: a solar eclipse in Portland, Oregon, camping at a dark park in Utah; and camping at the bottom of the Grand Canyon during a lunar eclipse!

Have a great rest of the week and I hope to see you at one of my events.

~Melanie

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This morning I woke up thinking of her. Of our last visit, the hours we spent on her couch talking about anything but her illness. Of the shock I felt after getting the news, sitting in bed, sitting with the knowledge that my sister was gone. For a few moments, it felt like if I didn’t tell my mom or husband, it wouldn’t be true. That my niece had to be wrong. That her words meant something else.

Anything else.

I’ve known I wanted to write about her on this anniversary, but how do you summarize ten years of grieving? I miss her in quiet moments when a hummingbird flits across the yard, in everyday moments when I still have the reflex to share a funny story, in family moments when her absence is an assault. I’m so unbelievable sad she’ll never see her grandchild who will be born in July.

Those who’ve known me while know my sister’s death was one of three between 2014 and 2017. Forever the middle child, she died two years after our dad and one year before our brother, but her death was the one that knocked me off my axis.

My life has continued, but she’s never far from my thoughts. Guiding me with advice, laughing at the absurdity that only sisters understand. Constantly reminding me of the gaping hole her death has left in my life.

A few weeks ago, we gathered for my nephew and his wife’s baby shower and it was both lovely and heartbreaking. I saw her friends, people I knew a lifetime ago, and as excited as all of us are for the baby and as proud as we are of my niece and nephews for the amazing people they are despite their loss, I felt a profound sadness for what is missing, and for what will never be.

I wrote about my sister on the first anniversary of her death, and that post still reaches readers. The world has changed so much in the past decade, that sometimes her life feels like a time capsule of a different era. Some days that makes it easier to look back with happiness, but on days like today, it’s a harsh reminder of just how long she’s been gone.

I just returned from the ACES conference in Atlanta and in addition to new friends and tons of information about AI and style guides, I came home with a more permanent reminder:

STET is a proofreading mark that means ‘let it stand.’ It’s typically used during revisions by the person whose work has been edited, and it essentially means to ignore the suggested edit. I’ve extended that definition to mean I don’t need to change myself for anyone else — only myself. And that’s my handwriting.

I also faced my fears and told an elevator full of teenage girls that I’m a YA author and gave them all my card. Eek! They were there for an emerging leadership conference and were so intelligent and delightful that I couldn’t resist engaging with them. What I didn’t expect was their excitement! Achievement unlocked.

Marcellus First Friday

This Friday I’ll be at the Local Author Fair at the Marcellus Township Wood Memorial Library! This will be my first time in Marcellus and I’m going with my writing friend Kate (aka K M McIntyre).

May 1, 2026 from 5–7pm
Marcellus Twp. Wood Memorial Library
205 E. Main St., Marcellus, MI 49067

If you live in the area, please stop by!

ICYMI: We Can Do Hard Things

Last week I posted about two recent bike races:

There were times on long stretches of dirt roads that the closest riders were half a mile in front of or behind me. And THOSE are the moments when you really have to dig deep to keep pushing. I’d tell myself that I can go faster, so I’d push a little harder. I’d remind myself that if I was riding with Jeremy — who rides faster than me so I just lock in and try to keep up — we’d be going faster.

Read the full post ››

National Haiku Day

Another in case you missed it: I wrote a haiku for each of my books and tossed them into a reel. Click the image to enjoy!

I’ve Joined the Loons

While at the conference, most of my free time was spent bingeing Heated Rivalry. I knew a lot going in — mostly from gifs and videos shared online — but was not prepared for how quickly those boys would take over my life. IYKYK, and if you don’t, you should really check it out.

That’s all for now. I hope you’re having a great week and I’d love to see you Friday if you’re in southern Michigan!

xoxo,
Melanie

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Shortly after Iceman, Jeremy and I signed up for back-to-back races in April. During the very snowy winter, April seemed faaaaaar away.

We rode outside when we could (Jeremy more than me) and when it finally started warming up in March, our rides got longer. I had a couple setbacks — a mole removal in January that limited my mobility and a nasty cold at the beginning of April — that kept me from training as hard as I wanted, but when April 11 arrived, we felt ready.

You want me to bike how many miles?

In the biking community, there’s a tradition to ride the number of miles equal to your age you’re turning on your birthday. Jeremy found a gravel race called Dirty 30 on his birthday that also had a 50-mile option, so he could achieve his 45 miles. Since it wasn’t MY birthday, I opted for the 16-mile distance. Most people were riding gravel bikes, which looks like a road bike with wider tires that wider have more grip, but I rode my mountain bike and Jeremy rode his beloved single-speed fat bike. By race day, only six women were signed up in the mountain bike category, which meant I had a pretty good shot at making the podium.

Not only did I make the podium — I was first in my category! What makes this even more exciting is the top three finishers were within 16 seconds of each other. (Jeremy also won his category: men’s 50-mile fat bike!)

Digging Deep

ecause your time doesn’t start until you cross the official start line, you could go the entire race without actually seeing the people who are at your same pace. There were times on long stretches of dirt roads that the closest riders were half a mile in front of or behind me. And THOSE are the moments when you really have to dig deep to keep pushing. I’d tell myself that I can go faster, so I’d push a little harder. I’d remind myself that if I was riding with Jeremy — who rides faster than me so I just lock in and try to keep up — we’d be going faster.

So I pushed. I dug deeper. I focused on my breathing so I could keep climbing the hills and not have to walk.

Those small moments, when it was just me and my motivation, determination, competitiveness, whatever you want to call it, are what made the difference.

Plot twist

Hang on, I’m making a writing analogy!

I started writing It’s Always Been You in December 2022. I was 3/4 of the way through the first draft when I took a sabbatical in June 2023. It’s the book that, in November 2024, my agent and I decided I would focus on for our first submission to publishers. I spent all summer 2025 finishing it, then fall 2025 revising. Last month we agreed it needs another round, and let me tell you, while I absolutely agree I can make it better, the news hit me hard.

These aren’t little tweaks to strengthen plot points. I’m shifting the importance of characters, changing the general tone in some parts, and — wait for it — digging deep to bring the emotion that I know is buried in there. That’s buried in me, but always takes revisions to drag out, kicking and screaming.

I’ve spent time brainstorming with other writers, reading books in the same genre to get a clearer idea of how and where to really amplify the tension, but the actual writing is on me. Alone on that dirt road where it’s easy to let up, to not push, to walk up that hill without trying my hardest.

It’s scary. It’s exhausting. It’s really easy to just not.

Finding my why

That’s when I have to remind myself why I’m doing this. Why I ride 21 miles in 17mph winds to prep for an 18-mile race. Why I get up early every morning to write. Why I read my manuscript for the 15th time when some days I’d rather do anything else.

I’m a writer. I love telling stories, and I especially love hearing from readers after they’ve finished my books. If I want to keep feeling that rush, I can’t give up.

As for mountain biking, I love being outside. I enjoy challenging myself and pushing my body to do hard things.

This past weekend we competed in another race, Barry-Roubaix, one of the largest gravel races in the country. My goals were different — get a better time than last year and don’t crash, especially as the week’s rain flooded the course and turned the dirt roads to mud — but my determination was the same. I finished in the top half of my category, but what made me the happiest was while waiting in line to clean our bikes (it was THAT muddy), a woman told me that I helped her on the hills because she followed my line.

I still consider myself a newbie in the biking world, but perhaps it’s time to shed that label — at least until the next challenge.

In my 20s and 30s, I always made my birthday a week-long celebration, then in my 40s my husband innocently mentioned “the month of Melanie” and now March is basically mine. I take advantage of the month by seeing friends, eating great food, and trying as many fun things as I can.

We’re in the middle of the month, so needless to say, I’m tired. But there’s still more to come! This Saturday is my first event of the year — the Third Coast Book Festival in Grand Haven — and I’m not only signing books with over 200 other authors, I’ll also be on an author panel!

In writing news, my current wip has had several temporary titles — the revenge book, the grief book — but as of this week, it has a proper name: A Thousand Tiny Moments. It’s about two teens each grieving their dads, and the title touches on the idea that you don’t heal overnight; it takes a thousand tiny moments. I’m really getting into the story and enjoying getting to know my characters, Nic (Veronica) and Logan.

That’s all for today. I hope you have a great week, and watch out for The Raptor on Sunday! (IYKYK) Bwahahahaha!

xoxo, Melanie

Third Coast Book Festival This Saturday

This Saturday, March 21, I’ll be joining hundreds of other authors — many from all over the US — at the Third Coast Book Festival in downtown Grand Haven, MI from 11am–4pm.

I’ll also be on the Masters of Mystery Author Panel with authors Lisa Childs and Jennifer Dornbush at 1pm. The full panel lineup:

• Young Adult – 11am

• History – 12pm

• Mystery – 1pm

• Dark Romance – 2pm

• Horror – 3pm

My booth and all the panels will be at Central Park Place (aka the community center) at 421 Columbus Ave, Grand Haven, MI 49417. Authors will also be at the Tri-Cities Historical Museum and at shops throughout downtown Grand Haven. See you there!

50th Bucket List Recap

As part of my 51st birthday celebration, I thought I’d do a recap of some B-I-G goals I made for myself. I must admit, when I first made this list, I truly thought I’d do every single thing. After all, they’re all things I want to do, so it seemed simple.

›› Read the full blog post

Searching for your next favorite story?

Look no further! These bestselling authors have teamed up to offer a delightful selection of new books. Available for a limited time.

Eve is On Sale for 99¢

Excerpt from Chapter 2:

I turn off the string of Christmas lights that snake around the edge of the ceiling, softening the edges of my world, and cross the hall to Gen’s room.

Dad’s rules from years ago echo through my mind.

Don’t talk about Gen at school.

Tell people Mommy is sick and stays home.

And the biggest one: Save stories about your day for your “special time” with Mommy.

I squint against the harsh overhead light in Gen’s room. We used to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, but the bulb is long gone, taken when mine burned out and it was easier to steal hers than find another one in the basement.

I ditch my pleated skirt and Chucks for leggings and a bulky University of Virginia sweatshirt. They’re known for their women’s soccer program, and even though Mom and Dad don’t love the idea of Gen going so far away, it was too easy to buy the sweatshirt online and announce that she was accepted. I put my hair in a high ponytail, swap my contacts for glasses, and confirm in the full-length mirror that my Clark Kent transformation is complete.

This time when I open Mom’s door, she’s ready for me. A new episode is cued up and her knitting is tucked away in the basket near the window. Steam rises from a fresh cup of tea on the low table in front of her. And her face lights up in a way it only does for her favorite daughter.

For my twin sister, Gen.

For the other me.

“Hey, Mom.” I take my same spot on the couch, but this time I let myself look at the pictures. At myself in duplicate. At me dressed as myself and Gen as we grew up. Dad learned Photoshop so he could create pictures of us together, and they’re spread throughout the room, a constant reminder of the charade he forced me into.

You can’t miss what you’ve never had, so while I never wanted for anything as a young child, my life was not ordinary. Having a mother who goes to the park—or even the grocery store—was something out of TV shows, something to daydream about while playing with my dolls.

“Gen.” Mom’s voice is a content sigh, her day complete now that Gen’s here. “How was your day? Were you warm enough at practice? I keep thinking it’ll get warmer, but you know spring in Michigan.”

I smile while she rambles, softening the scowl that lives around my eyes. “It was great, Mom. Audrey and Lissa have awesome tans from Florida”—a detail I wish I didn’t still notice about Lissa—”so they wore shorts to practice and froze their asses off.”

Gen gets to swear in front of Mom. I don’t. It’s a rule I’ve tested.

She touches my arm. “You had your sweatshirt?”

“Yeah, thank god.”

“I wish Eve had something to join like you do.”

My stomach clenches but I force my voice to stay upbeat. Bubbly. “She’s got the newspaper.”

She shrugs and picks up the remote. “Ready?”

“Sure, Mom.”

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Eve’s story challenged me in ways I never anticipated, she persisted through the pandemic, and it’s hard to believe she’s been unraveling for a full year. She’s won several awards, received amazing reviews from everyday readers and industry professionals, and caused one bookseller to exclaim:

If you haven’t read Eve’s story yet, I have good news:

The Quiet Unraveling of Eve Ellaway is on sale for 99¢!

If you’re not a fan of ebooks, you can also order: Paperback | Hardcover | Audiobook

I’m happy to ship signed books, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in. Or, if you’re in Michigan, check out my event next month —>

Upcoming Event

The Third Coast Author & Book Festival is less than a month away! Last year was a huge success and organizers have even more planned for this year. I will be in Central Park Place (aka the Community Center) in Grand Haven from 11am–4pm on Saturday, March 21.

Authors will be stationed allllllll over town, so if you’re a book lover, you do not want to miss this event. Headlining authors include Erin A. Craig, Richard Chizmar, Adriane Leigh, Jimmy Juliano, W. H. Chizmar, Christopher Cosmos, and Lisa Childs!

Back to Eve

TQUEE was the hardest book I’ve ever written and it’s so gratifying to see it get such a positive reception. (Of course it’s not all positive, but it’s a fact of life that you’ll never please everyone and I’m A-ok with that.)

Awards

Winner (YA Fiction) 2025 — IndieReader Discovery Awards

Silver Winner (YA Mature Issues) 2025 — Moonbeam Children’s Book Awards

Quarter-Finalist (YA/MG) 2025 — BookLife Prize

Reviews

“Irresistible... A twin win: It’s hard to put down and stays with you after you finish.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Prepare to lose sleep—Eve’s story will keep you up late into the night as you question both her reliability as a narrator and the people around her.” —Kellie M. Parker, author of YA thriller Thin Air

“An emotional riptide from beginning until its shocking end.” —Heather Levy, Anthony-nominated author of Hurt for Me and This Violent Heart

“This book is a whirlwind emotional ride. Impossible to put down, with shocking twists and heartbreaking truths, it’s truly an unforgettable story.” —Michelle MacQueen

“...a gripping exploration of identity and mental illness. This dark, psychological novel is a raw journey that will captivate readers who enjoy stories that blur the line between reality and delusion.” —NetGalley review

Read more reviews on Goodreads or if you’ve already read TQUEE, leave your own review!

Buy The Quiet Unraveling of Eve Ellaway

Watching Eve spread her wings over the past year has been truly magical, and I’m grateful to everyone who read, supported, and helped spread the word about my twisted story. THANK YOU.

Until next time,

Melanie

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A couple weeks ago, the world got heavier than I could handle alone. I have a history of depression and I’ve learned to recognize when I’m starting to spiral, so I reached out to a friend, who invited me over for emergency wine. While there, I noticed something I’d almost bought at Barnes & Noble a few days earlier:

A screaming goat.

Specifically, a 3-inch plastic goat that screams when you press it. It’s completely silly and impractical, which is why I didn’t buy it for myself. But when I saw it in her living room, I immediately regretted leaving it at the store. After that evening, I trudged through my week, trying my best to not let the horrors of the world overwhelm me (impossible). When I got a text at the end of the week that the same friend was outside my door, I was happy for the company. When she said she brought me a gift, I was touched by her kindness.

Then she pulled out my very own screaming goat!

The moment she left, I recorded this:

Several people (who I can only assume live a dark, joyless life) asked why anyone would want a plastic screaming goat. “What’s the point?” one person asked.

What’s the point? The point is that we’re drowning in a constant barrage of horrifying news with no end in sight. Even worse is that my international friends say our media is barely scratching the surface on what’s truly happening and how the world is reacting. The US is in a media blackout along the lines of Russia, Hungary, and other authoritarian regimes but because we’re so used to news reaching us the moment it happens, most people have no idea, nor do they suspect we’re not getting the full story. We don’t know what we don’t know.

Friends from other countries advise using a VPN to read the BBC, Al Jazeera, and others; to use “.co.uk” to be sure to get the real British BBC. (My computer promptly kicks me back to .com, which is why a VPN is needed.) And this has nothing to do with political bias — all mainstream media is censoring itself.

For those who aren’t as chronically online as I am, here are a few issues that should be front page news:

• Since the latest batch of Epstein files were released, foreign heads of state, leaders of corporations, and royalty are resigning, being fired, and stripped of their titles. The people in those countries can’t believe our leader is still in control.¹ We are failing the victims who have risked their safety and privacy to speak out against those who abused and tortured them.

• ICE is kidnapping and murdering people in US streets, children are missing school, and immigrants are terrified to leave their homes. Underground networks are meeting the need by grocery shopping, standing vigil at school pick-up and drop-off, and monitoring their neighborhoods all in an effort to keep their neighbors — many of whom they didn’t know before ICE descended into their communities — safe. The violence in Minnesota didn’t lessen down because we stopped hearing about it; the media stopped covering it. And now ICE is in Detroit, snatching people and leaving their cars running on the side of the road.²

• The SAVE Act — which on the surface is a voter ID law — threatens to disenfranchise married women, financially unstable individuals, and those who cannot vote in person. The law requires proof of citizenship along with an ID, and for married women who’ve changed their last name, their birth certificates and driver’s licenses do not have the same last name. A passport would be accepted, but not everyone has one and since the State Department fired over 1000 people, specifically those who handle passports, the wait times for a new passport could take months longer than it used to. Not to mention that requiring a citizen to pay for documents in order to vote is a poll tax and therefore unconstitutional. Also, because the large majority of men have never changed their name, this is discrimination against those who have.
  
  Numerous people have insisted that the Real ID is an accepted form of identification for voting, but it doesn’t show proof of citizenship and non-citizens are allowed to apply for the ID.³

• Finally, AI is chugging our water supply faster than it could ever be replenished. For every fun picture of a pet dressed in a silly costume, a community has that much less water to drink.⁴

So what can we do? Besides contacting your representatives (5calls.org makes it super easy), talking to your friends and loved ones, protesting if you feel safe, and voting in November — look out for your neighbors. Check in on the people you care about and the people whose names you don’t know but whose existence overlaps yours. Together we’re what makes this country great, and together we can hold onto our humanity in the face of fascism.

Find joy wherever you can.

With all this going on, why am I telling you about a toy goat? Because it makes me laugh. Because during those two seconds my goat is screaming, I’m not thinking about abused children or losing voting rights or people being kidnapped off our city streets.

The goat screams for all of us.

Maybe you agree with the internet stranger who thinks a screaming goat is pointless. That’s totally fine. But I believe it’s important that we all have an outlet for the rage and grief and horror that’s festering inside us. Maybe you prefer a quiet hobby like painting or knitting. Perhaps you like to sweat out your frustration (big fan of biking here!). Or maybe you channel that energy into protesting and volunteering and doing what others can’t by speaking up and making sure the US doesn’t go down without a fight. If settling in with an endless stream of cat videos is the only thing that releases cortisol, then do that!

I’ll be doing a bit of all of those — watercolor painting, biking, speaking out, and watching adorable pets — so that I make sure I survive when this all comes to an end.

1. https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/department-justice-publishes-35-million-responsive-pages-compliance-epstein-files

2. https://www.reddit.com/r/TwinCities/comments/1r52vkc/ice_isnt_leaving_mn/

3. https://www.michigan.gov/sos/license-id/real-id

4. https://news.mit.edu/2025/explained-generative-ai-environmental-impact-0117

Now, about that heading. For those of you who’ve known me for awhile, you might be thinking, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’ve started lots of new books.” And while that’s true, I haven’t started a new book since 2024. The book I just finished is the one I was working on when I took a six-month sabbatical, and the one I started in 2024 isn’t finished. I’m only a few pages into this new story and while it’s waaaay too early to talk about, I did give a hint last week when I asked for suggestions for the playlist.

This will be another romance but there will be a LOT of emotion and sads and grief. Things I think we can all relate to these days.

I haven’t come up with a title yet, but I’ll be sure to share once I do.

Check out Melanie's books

Upcoming event

Save the date for the Third Coast Author & Book Festival! Last year was a huge success and organizers have even more planned for this year. While it’s not finalized, I think I’ll be on a local author panel, so you don’t want to miss it!

Grand Haven, Michigan
Weekend of March 21, 2026

Grab a free book!

Searching for your next favorite story? These sweet romances will keep you warm all season long. Available for a limited time. Click to image to choose a book.

Recent blog post

My Really Boring Word of the Year — Spoiler, it’s stamina. But don’t you want to know why? In the post I talk about changes I need to make if I want to make better use of my time and achieve my goals.

Since publishing the post, I attended a 4-hour motivation/empowerment seminar, during which we did a guided meditation. We were to imagine ourselves in five years, then ask our future self what we need to do to accomplish our goals. Mine told me that I already know what I need to do (she’s right) and to quit screwing around and do it, so I guess that’s what I’m going to do!

Have you read this book?

I have a lot to choose from, but have you read the book that made me a published author? Biz is a perfectly normal teenager except for one minor detail: she uses sunlight to jump back to yesterday.

Tell me more ››

I must read this now ››

Until next time

Thanks for reading this far. I hope you have a great rest of the week!

xoxo,
Melanie

website | email | facebook | instagram | threads | bookbub | goodreads

It’s that time of year again, when people set unrealistic goals that seem great while in a cheese-and-chocolate-induced haze, but suddenly feel impossible when it’s time to throw away all the sugar in the pantry or wake up at 5:30am to hit the gym before work.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve set those resolutions. Some I’ve completed, others I never began (throwing away food is just WASTEFUL), and some have become a part of my everyday life. But if you know me, you know that I strongly believe waiting for a specific day on the calendar to start a new habit is a recipe for failure. It’s too easy for something to get in the way and the next thing you know, it’s mid-February and you haven’t set foot in the gym since the day you signed up. “Oh well,” you think. “Guess I’ll try again next year.”

I believe that if you take each day as it comes, you can endure setbacks and keep chipping away at your goal.

While I don’t set resolutions, I do set goals throughout the year. For the past couple months my lower back has been hurting more than usual (hooray chronic pain!) and I realized I’ve slacked off on the exercises I learned in physical therapy. You know, the ones that made my back pain go away. Because my back no longer hurt, I stopped the daily exercises, and here I am, writing to you with a heating pad on my back.

When I had my aha moment last week, I started my exercises THAT MINUTE. It may have been a Monday or Tuesday. Not January 1. Not my birthday or the first day of summer or any other day that shouldn’t have any relation to our goals yet often do. And then it rains and you can’t go for a run and the goal becomes insurmountable.

“Melanie,” you’re probably thinking by now, “what is your word?!”

Yeah, yeah. I’m getting there.

In 2024, I challenged myself to complete a triathlon and ended up finishing two. Plus a 5k and a mountain biking race. In 2025, I completed those same races, as well as three other mountain bike races, which ranged from 16 to 33 miles. When my husband and I first started biking over a decade ago, we thought we were hard cord when we biked four miles. This year I got to the point that anything under ten miles didn’t feel like a real ride.

On the writing front, this year I launched my 10th published novel and wrote and revised my 14th novel. I first started writing It’s Always Been You in 2023, but set it aside when I took my writing sabbatical that summer. I dove back into it at the end of 2024 and YESTERDAY sent the manuscript to my agent, over a year after our first conversation about the book.

Aside from the joy and relief I feel at finally finishing the book, I’m also disappointed in myself because it took MONTHS longer than I anticipated. Yes, I have a day job. Yes, I spend a lot of time exercising and playing with the dog and taking care of the house and having a life, but as a writer who hopes to make this my career some day, I feel like this is an area in which I can definitely improve.

Which brings me to my word:

This year I hope to:

• continue building my physical stamina for riding (and general health)
• build my mental stamina so I can focus longer
• Increase my writing stamina so I can complete books faster (this should make all of you happy!)

There are countless ways increasing my stamina can benefit me. My hope is that increasing the amount of time I can focus on any one thing will help my cognition, attention span, patience, and so many other things.

How about you? Do you choose a word to guide you each year? I’d love to hear what it is.

I can’t help with the podcast department, but I CAN help with the audiobook!

My narrator did SUCH an amazing job capturing Eve’s desperation to be loved and inability to let anyone close enough to love her.

The audiobook is available at all the major sellers:

Spotify | ACX/Audible | B&N | Kobo | Apple | GooglePlay

Order signed books for the holidays!

If you’re more into books you can hold and smell and cuddle to your chest, consider ordering signed paperbacks. All my print books are on sale for $15 each, and if you place an order through Monday, December 1, shipping is free! (US only. I’m SORRY.)

Click the image to get details on all my books.

I also have copies of The Book of Good, my gratitude journal that encourages you to write 3 good things each day. The journals make good gifts any time of the year and are $10 each.

Email me at melaniehooyenga(at)gmail(dot)com to place an order. All orders made by December 15 will be shipped in time for Christmas, assuming the Post Office isn’t defunded.

Safe travels, and have a lovely holiday to those who celebrate!

—Melanie

This is a positive story, I promise.

I’ve never been one to shy away from trying new things. Physical, mental, intellectual — very few experiences things fall into my “No” category.* So last summer when a neighbor invited me to sign up for a bike race hosted by her mountain biking group, it didn’t take much to convince me.

Little did I know at the time how much that race would change my life.

I’d ridden my bike since I was a kid, mainly to get from point A to B, and for exercise in my late forties, but I never considered myself a biker. That changed with my first Skirts in the Dirt race. The six-mile course is mostly technical, rooty single-track trails, mixed with flowy fields, and while it was hard, I was immediately obsessed.

I needed more of this adrenaline-fueled chaos, so I followed my neighbor to her group’s weekly all-female ride, and quickly became a jersey-wearing member of the Lakeshore Mountain Biking Sisters. This group of women is encouraging, inspiring, patient, daring, patient and SO welcoming. Riding together evokes the feelings of freedom and endless afternoons that I felt when riding bikes as a kid.

And this group does a lot of races.

Hey, I’m a Mountain Bike Racer

This year I’ve competed in Barry-Roubaix, Skirts in the Dirt, Lord of the Springs, and as of this past Saturday, the Iceman Cometh. (In addition to 2 sprint triathlons and a 5k!) It took convincing to sign up for the 30-ish mile race the second week in November that’s NAMED for bad weather, but after I rode the 45-mile Dragon in one day last spring, my husband and I put ourselves on the Iceman waitlist.

We were over 1000 people deep on the list, but made the cut a month before the race!

(This is a good time to mention that the LMBS ride year-round, which means riding in snow. Quite a few trails only allow fat tire bikes when the trails are groomed and I had some serious FOMO last winter since I only had a regular mountain bike. My goal for the summer was to find a fat bike so I could play in the snow with my friends, and we found a used XS Salsa with 4.8” tires in August!)

Knowing that the Iceman runs snow or shine, I decided to register on my fatty. It’s typically a heavier bike and slower because of the width of the tires, but it handles sand and snow like a dream.

My usual rides vary from 8–12 miles, but the month before the race I bumped them to 15–20 miles several times a week, switching between gravel roads and single-track. A kind soul posted a video of them riding the Iceman course, and watching that eased most of my anxiety. The single-track looked easier than some of the trails we ride on Tuesdays, and 2-track and gravel roads are non-issues for me.

I could do this.

The course ends with a handful of MONSTER hills — I won’t get into how sadistic it is to put those in the last 2 miles of what turned out to be a 32-mile race — but with over 5000 participants, my goal was just to finish. And with only 20 women in the fat bike category, to not be last.

The Iceman Cometh!

The course is point-to-point, which means the course doesn’t loop back to the start. Shuttles carried us in 30-degree weather to the Kalkaska airport, where we tried to stay warm until our wave (36 of 48) took off. The wind whipped across the open fields, but once we got into the trees, I stopped worrying about the weather and focused on passing other riders.

Over the 30-mile course, I conquered miles of single-track, two-track, and a 20-minute “log jam” at the 10-mile mark that brought over 1000 racers to a complete stop — all of which I was prepared for. What I didn’t expect was how many people would be along the course.

Among the most surprising things I saw were a group Jeeps in the middle of the woods honking their horns, women dressed in hot pink and one of them playing a full drum set, an 8-foot-tall inflatable pug high-fiving racers, and lots of “Go fat girl!”

“Fat Girl!”

The first time someone shouted, “Go fat girl!” as I passed, it took me a moment to realize they meant me.

I’ve been in enough races to know that women spectators get excited for women racers, especially if you’re surrounded by men when you pass. In biking, not many people race fat tires, so fatties tend to draw attention as well. Combine those in a 5’1” silver-haired woman and People. Get. Excited.

By the time I reached the chute — the last mile or so of trail flanked by snow fencing and sponsor banners — I’d heard “Fat girl!” more than a dozen times.

As I dug deep to keep pushing pushing pushing up Icebreaker — the first @#$%^ hill in the chute — chants of “Fat girl!” kept me going. I was determined to make it to the top without touching dirt, as they say, and I made it!

The End

This was it. The final stretch.

My legs were jelly, my back thrashed from racing down bumpy trails at 20mph with no shocks, but hearing that crowd gave me a much needed boost.

The next hills were even more difficult, so I ended up walking them, but at that point I didn’t care. I’d made it to the end.

I’ve never experienced anything like the Iceman finish. I heard the crowd before reaching the chute, but seeing them was unreal. Hundreds of people screaming and cheering, handing out beers and shots and dollar bills (my husband even snagged one), some even giving riders a push up the massive hills that mark the end of Iceman.

Someone shouted my name, and as I turned to smile, I veered toward the opposite side and almost rode straight into another group of cheering friends.

(I was very wobbly at this point.)

Seeing their excited faces and hearing them shout my name was the perfect way to finish my 3.5 hour ride!

Race Notes

This was my first race that I planned to fuel (eat) while riding, so I shoveled granola bites and peanut M&Ms into my face when we slowed on single track. What I didn’t anticipate was without shocks, I’d be bouncing A LOT and M&Ms make a lot of noise. They rattled the entire way — people definitely knew I was coming!

I’ve become known among my friends for clipping trees with my handlebars, but only clipped one — plus one guy who got forced into me — but stayed upright.

My only “crash” was at the top of a narrow, steep hill that had been churned up from others falling before me. But instead of falling in the dirt like a normal rider, I tipped over into the snow fence at the top of the hill. I was still on my feet but my bike had me pinned. A course volunteer kindly untangled me and when I got to the bottom of the hill, spotted a photographer. “I hope you got that,” I said, and he nodded with a smile.

(I haven’t found the pic yet.)

Will I Do Iceman Again?

ABSOLUTELY. The mountain biking community is amazing and I’m forever grateful I found them.

*I refuse to go bungee jumping. Skydiving’s also on the list, but I briefly considered it last summer.

Links

Iceman Cometh – iceman.com
Skirts in the Dirt – skirtsinthedirt.com
Lord of the Springs – lordofthesprings.com
Barry Roubaix – barry-roubaix.com
The Dragon Trail – thedragon.us
Lakeshore Mountain Biking Sisters – facebook.com/LMBSWomensMTB

Audiobook news!

I’m excited to announce that after months of waiting, the audiobook for The Quiet Unraveling of Eve Ellaway is now available!

I’m so in love with this I cannot even explain. It’s taking a bit of time for the various platforms to list it, but right now you can start listening on Spotify and Kobo. Others will come soon. AND, as a thank you, I’m giving away a limited number of custom art prints. (US only.) Just send me a screen shot of your receipt and it’s yours!

Listen to Audiobook Sample

Grab The Quiet Unraveling of Eve Ellaway for 99¢

To celebrate the audiobook launch, the ebook is on sale for the first time ever! If you’ve been waiting for the right time to Eve’s story, that time is now!

A kidnapped baby. The sister left behind. A secret no one would believe.

When Eve’s twin sister disappeared as a baby, their Dad raised her as both girls to protect their mother’s fragile mind. Now Eve’s counting the days until she leaves for college, but escaping her double life could shatter her mother’s sanity — and expose the secret she’s desperate to keep.

Buy the eBook

Library Event in Grand Rapids, MI

And finally, this Friday I’ll be at the Cascade Brand of the Kent District Library for their Soiree in the Stacks event.

Friday, October 24, 2025 | 6pm–8pm
2870 Jacksmith Avenue SE, Grand Rapids, 49546

Dance the night away amongst the stories of the stacks or the twinkling gardens. Enjoy bookish delights, crafts and a local author fair meet-and-greet.

Event Page

I’ll have all my books for sale and would love to see you there!

That’s all for today! Now that the audiobook is live, I get to start working on my next book — as soon as I compete in one more bike race this season.

I’m grateful to you for your support and hope you’re as excited as I am about this launch as I am!

xoxo,
Melanie

Banned books are nothing new. Societies have fought against diverse ideas for centuries. We’ve all read accounts of burning “bad” books, of imprisoning those who dare speak against those in power, of cancelling authors for daring to write about lifestyles other than the majority.

This week is Banned Books Week, which “highlights the value of free and open access to information and brings together the entire book community — librarians, educators, authors, publishers, booksellers, and readers of all types — in shared support of the freedom to seek and to express ideas.” (Banned Books Week) As an author, I know people whose career has been affected by these bans. Some like to say that it’s a badge of honor to have a book banned, but many authors have chosen to stop writing for teens and children because of the controversy.

(More information ›› ACLU: Banned Books Week 2025)

When a book is no longer carried in libraries or bookstores, people can’t read it. They can’t buy it. And eventually publishers choose not to buy more books from that author. In order to maintain a career as a writer, these authors are forced to self-censor, to choose “less offensive” topics. To erase diversity from their books.

This is dangerous for society. Suppressing diverse ideas and no longer representing the different people and cultures that make us who we are, changes who we are. It becomes dangerous for individuals to express themselves. And it’s a violation of the First Amendment.

Two weeks ago I was locked out of my Threads account for violating their Community Standards. There’s no way to get more information, request an appeal, or find out what triggered the account being disabled. It’s just gone. Threads is linked to Instagram on the back end of Meta, so with some digging, I was able to confirm that both of those accounts are in good standing, I’ve never violated Community Standards, and I’ve never had a post removed.

But there isn’t a way to protest the decision, which was made by a computer. I’ve sent messages through Meta and Instagram, friends have posted on Threads on my behalf, I’ve sent more messages to tech support — but I’ve received zero responses.

Some may say, “It’s only social media, what’s the big deal?” Personally, Threads is where I went after Twitter became a complete hellscape. At first it was mostly writers, and we marveled at the soft, safe space we created. As more people joined, news and politics crept in and it became my go-to place for breaking news and insightful commentary on everything happening in the US.

While I discussed politics there, I’ve always been mindful that I write for teens and am careful not to curse or post anything too scandalous. That doesn’t mean I’m quiet about fascism being wrong and how our democracy has failed. A couple weeks ago, a lot of people were joking about Antifa (short for anti-fascist) being an organization, not an idea. I liked many of the posts, but didn’t write my own.

That’s the only thing I can think of that got me banned. And that’s scary. If we can’t speak out about our government — our elected leaders — we’re no longer a democracy.

I’m not the only person who’s been silenced. Through my writing friends I’ve learned of other authors whose accounts are just gone. If you’re reading this, if we’re friends, I know that this is not new information. Many of us have been sounding the alarm since 2016, and have been ridiculed for it. But we were allowed to talk about it.

Cancelling books, TV shows, and social media accounts may not seem like a big deal, but that’s where we get our information. It’s where we find people with similar ideas of lifestyles. When the government decides what can be shared, we as a society will suffer.

Because I can’t share this on Threads, it would mean a lot to me if you would share it on my behalf. Thank you. <3

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My brother died eight years ago, putting an end to a three-year roller coaster through hell that still doesn’t feel real. In March 2014, my dad was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. He died that May, and six weeks later, my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. In spring 2016, my brother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, then six weeks later my sister died. On September 23, 2017, my brother took his last breath.

The shock of losing more than half of my immediate family fought with the relief that they were no longer suffering. That WE were no longer suffering. Because for three years my mom and I were trapped in cancer whiplash, unable to truly grieve my dad, then my sister, because there were more treatments, more scans, more prayers.

And then there wasn’t.

The day my brother died, I spent hours walking along Lake Michigan with my husband. It was a warm day and the state park was packed with people who had no idea of the seismic shift that had occurred in my life.

It was the first time in years I felt like I could breathe. That I could sit with what I’d lost — what my family had lost — and try to fathom how everyday life would continue.

That’s when the grief arrived.

Ordinary moments would bring me to tears because I couldn’t share it with them. Movies and TV shows would catch me off guard, leaving me an inconsolable mess. The episode of The Crown when the queen cares for her dying sister had me crying so hard I couldn’t speak. My poor husband knew I was crying because a sister was dying onscreen, but he couldn’t know it was because I would never share that moment with my sister; we would never grow old together.

And yet life kept going on.

A few weeks before my sister died I asked for something in her handwriting and she replied something to the effect of, “you are not getting a tattoo for me!”

The following September, I had three sparrows tattooed on my left shoulder blade honoring all three of them. Haha, the little sister finally got the last word.

At the end of 2018, I raised a silent New Years toast because we lasted a year with no more family deaths. Life felt like it could finally move forward. Jeremy and I bought our dream house. My mom continued to travel. Both my nephews got married.

Then the pandemic swept in.

As scary and uncertain as that time was, it gave me the space to wonder what if. What if my dad told someone that his throat was bothering him sooner? What if my sister’s cancer hadn’t spread? What if my brother had taken better care of himself so his body could have fought harder?

I blinked and we marked the eighth, ninth, tenth anniversary of my dad’s death. My niece and nephews grew into adults whose hopes and dreams their mother would never witness. I celebrated more birthdays than my sister. Then my brother.

Looking back, those three years feel to me the way the pandemic feels to most of the world: a hazy blur of mundane and traumatic, of chaos and unsteady calm that slips through your fingers before you realize it’s happening.

Then it’s over and life goes on.

But we’re not the same. We can’t be. Pieces of our hearts have been severed and shattered and left in the past, refusing to follow us to tomorrow. Some days the memories of our loved ones are enough, but next week your breath won’t come and you don’t know how you’ll get through another day without the person who was your everything.

To me, grief is like a scar. It might fade over time, but it never fully goes away.

I rarely go more than a day or two without thinking of my dad, my sister, my brother. Sometimes it’s because someone new asks that normally innocent question: “Do you have any siblings?” I take a breath then drop my bomb on them, their shock reminding me of the hell my mom and I survived.

My brother was a chef, so watching The Bear makes me both anxious and nostalgic because I imagine him in that kitchen. I’m incapable of seeing a boat and not thinking of my dad, aka Captain Gary — and we have a lot of boats in west Michigan. And every time my niece shares a picture of herself online, I see my sister in her eyes.

I don’t have any sage advice to end this neatly. When the wave of grief hits, all you can do is hang on until it passes and be grateful that your love for them remains so strong that their memories can still take your breath away and leave your heart aching for them.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve had plenty of times in your life when you were faced with a decision and your gut screamed one thing while your logical ol’ brain insisted on another. Maybe you listened to that feeling in the pit of your stomach, or maybe you did whatever your brain insisted was the rational choice. Or maybe the universe aligned and there was a big neon arrow blinking “THIS IS THE WAY” so you shrugged and figured okay sure I’ll listen to my gut this time.

I’ve had a lot of those moments in the past year or so. I’m the type of person who when I make a decision, I’ve made the decision. But it can sometimes take a lot of hemming and hawing — and often a lot of online research — to finally come to that decision.

When I decided to take a sabbatical from writing two years ago, as soon as I thought the words, I knew it was what I needed to do. Like instantaneously. I made a show of weighing the pros and cons for a couple weeks before officially announcing it, but there was no question in my mind that I needed a break.

During those months, I spent a lot of time reevaluating my approach to marketing, specifically where I was putting my time and money. There were a number of annual events that I’d done for years but they had stopped being successful, so I made a decision: I’m only doing book-specific events. Libraries, bookstores, book conferences, that sort of thing. The readers at those events may not all want my books, but at least they were readers.

(I also realized that if you run ads, people find and buy your books. Who knew!?)

So how do I know when to trust my gut?

More recently, an early reader of my current work in progress — a YA domestic suspense — suggested that I make a big change to the ending of the book. My first reaction when reading her note was “WHAT?!” My brain sputtered quiet excuses about why my way was right, and I closed the email, telling myself I’d reread it later. But her suggestion wormed into my brain and within an hour or two, I knew she was right. Her suggestion was not only better, it would shock readers. [insert evil laugh]

I shared the idea with my husband, who is an invaluable sounding board when I’m working through plot issues, and he immediately agreed the new ending would be better. As did another early reader. Best of all, a lot of the threads needed to make the change work already exist in the book! Authors like to say our subconscious knew before we did what was going to happen, and honestly, sometimes that’s the only explanation.

Often times you instinctively know whether something is right or wrong. I’ve received a lot of feedback over the course of my writing career — some good, some less good, all with good intentions — and one thing I always ask myself if my gut isn’t sure which way to go is, “am I hesitant because of all the work this would take or because it’s not right for this story?” If it’s simply me being lazy and wanting to be done with the book, then I know it’s good advice.

Marketing guttiness (aka instincts)

I’ve been wanting to switch newsletter providers for awhile but could never settle on the right platform. Partially because it’s a lot of work and partially because there are so many options and honestly, it was never at the top of my list. Then Mailchimp made some changes that made the decision for me.

Moving forward, I’ll be sending my newsletters via Substack! I still plan to keep my blog on my website, but I’ll most likely also share them in this space as well. I’d love it if you’d consider subscribing! Substack has options where people have to pay to subscribe, but mine will remain free.

I’m not 100% sure how this will go, but my gut insists it’s time for a change, and I believe it’s important to listen to our guts.

I’d love to hear about a time you wisely listened to your instincts.

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