In November of 2022, I participated in one of the last NANOWRIMO writing competitions (if not the last), before the NANOWRIMO writing community closed its digital doors. What a loss! It was the first time I had ever hit the 50k word count in the competition, and I ordered the “winner” T-shirt as proof. 

That was the same challenge that launched my rom-com Christmas novel. Fifty-thousand words is a significant chunk of a novel. So naturally, I thought that come December 2023, I’d have that novel all wrapped up in a sparkling red bow and announce the completion of my long-awaited third novel. 

Wrong. That Christmas novel got parked in a high-ceilinged story station, next to four other manuscripts I had started and abandoned with these parting words: “I’ll come back for you! I Promise!” 

The other manuscripts laughed aggressively as I said these words to the Christmas novel, and told Christmas I was lying, but the Christmas novel didn’t believe them. It looked up at me with a shiny expression, and said, “Don’t worry. You might think you’re abandoning me, but believe me, you’ll change!”

I want to write novels, I just have this tendency to put work and all other responsibilities before my own creativity. I know I’m not alone in this because there’s a whole industry built around this tendency; folks making a mint on workshops and books and courses and counseling—all focused on overcoming that human tendency to put one’s own happiness last.

Others have suggested that part of all the hemming and hawing and dodging and postponing is simply about fear—fear that no one really gives a damn if I finish another novel or not. And greater self-sabotage like, “Others are building a legacy helping the environment, funding schools in remote areas of the world, or setting up nonprofits, and all you’ve got are some romance stories to share?” 

Ouch, right? But if I’m honest, I don’t think it’s fear or that mean voice in my head that belittles my work. I think it’s a problem of choice. I’m interested in so many different things! Prioritize, you say. But they’re all a priority! All important! And I don’t seem to accept that time is linear and that there are only so many hours in the day, and so many days in the year. 

But the thing is, in 2025, something changed. I went to the story station and picked up my Christmas novel. 

“I just knew you’d come back!” It enthused. “Remember how I told you, that you’d change? Well, you did!”

“We’ll see about that,” I cautioned. “Let’s start by hanging out this year and take it from there.”
And we did. By the end of the year, I had a completed first draft. I shared it with a fellow author for critique. I made changes.

In 2026, I enlisted a trusted circle of readers to read draft two, incorporated their feedback, and wrote another draft. I was busier than ever with my editing business, Kristin in Holland, but I gave my novel a place in the lineup. Busy people tend to be more efficient with their time—especially those with external deadlines. I simply added my book to the line up, and gave my novel the same respect I give to my clients. My Christmas novel had become an entity that I could no longer abandon.

And now, on the cusp of September 2026, my novel has a name: Yule Change: An Opposites-Attract Christmas Rom-Com with an Eco Twist.

Damn. Yule Change? Isn’t that what my novel was telling me all along? You’ll change? Sneaky how it ended up naming itself as an eternal reminder that it was right and I was wrong.

Yule change has a cover that’s currently being designed by Lina at Miblart, and it’s getting a proper layout by Hannah from Storyhouse Works. And it got a proper developmental edit in 2025 by Donna Ho of Thoughts & Plots, and it got a proper proofread by Julie Davey, editor from Lilied Sea Editing. So, you see? This novel was calling the shots all along!

And I can’t wait to share it with you. Stay tuned. Cover reveal is coming soon!