This Isn't New
But also, it is. (AKA, new book announcement!)
After throwing down a lot of “stay tuned” posts, I’m pleased to make it official: my short story collection This Isn’t New: Women’s Historical Stories releases from Columbine York on May 21, 2026!
During the past 15-ish months—since, oh, let’s say November 5, 2024—I’ve been in the fortunate position of not having to make a book announcement or go through a book launch. (My heart goes out to those of you who have.) And yeah—it does feel weird, as I’d figured it would. With everything else happening in our country and world, who cares if any author has a new book coming out?
The answer to that question—and I think this is relevant for anyone sharing creative work in these times—is to get at the why of it.
Why this book? Why now?
Novelist and Short Story Writer
In the 1990s, when I got serious about writing fiction, I wrote a couple of “practice novels.” These manuscripts are in a file cabinet, and there they’ll stay, because while they taught me a lot about writing, they weren’t publishable books. I didn’t know that at the time, of course—I hoped to be the next twentysomething authorly sensation, as did every other writer I knew—but looking back at my dedicated self, writing daily in my apartments in Boston and then in Boulder (the cities where I lived during those years), sharing my work with other writers and getting feedback, I appreciate the lessons learned: what a plot is (and what it isn’t); what makes readers care about characters and story; how to carefully select words and phrases to set the tone. And, vitally, I discovered the benefits of steadily practicing BICHOK (butt in chair, hands on keyboard).
I also wrote short stories—lots of them. Conventional wisdom then (maybe still true) was that you could be “discovered” as a writer if you published a lot of great stories in literary magazines. I had acceptances and rejections, also something that would prepare me for a career as an author. The acceptances came with the satisfaction of, and sometimes a little money for, seeing my fiction in print.
Years later, after a long writing hiatus when my kids were little, I wrote The Bookseller, which became my debut novel. My path to publication for The Bookseller is was a bit of a fairytale (here’s a good overview, if you don’t already know the story), and from there, other than the short story I wrote for Denver Noir, I mostly concentrated on longform fiction.
But I never forgot those early stories. Every now and then I’d write another one, sometimes to submit, sometimes just for fun. I love the short form, and always in the back of my mind was the idea of a collection.
When the Time is Right
About a year ago, I decided to set aside my novel-in-progress and make that story collection a reality. I evaluated some of my older published works, selected two stories that align with the theme I had in mind, and considered how I could revise and polish them. I wrote several stories featuring all-new characters. And I wrote stories about secondary characters in The Bookseller and The Glass Forest, characters whose stories I’d always wanted to tell, as well as a story related to Anyone But Her.
The satisfaction I received from writing these stories has been unparalleled by any other creative experience in recent years. I love writing novels and will continue to do so, but working on the stories helped me break free of the creative frustration that had been haunting me for months. (Coincidentally, going back to that same first Tuesday in November 2024.)
Great—But What’s It About?
The theme of This Isn’t New: Women’s Historical Stories came to me before I figured out which stories would be included. Storytelling is my passion, but like everyone else, I’m deeply affected by what’s happening in the United States—so I’m using story to reflect on it. I cannot tell the stories of people of color, immigrants, and other marginalized groups, because such stories belong to writers who are members of those groups, not to me.
But I can tell the stories of women: mothers, daughters, sisters, workers, friends. And because I love historical fiction, I can use stories set in the past to give us a lens onto our lives and choices today.
The characters in the nine stories that comprise This Isn’t New range from an 1880s theologian to a 1940s high school principal to a 1970s, first-ever-anywhere (she’s pretty sure) female take on Bozo the Clown—and more. Their lives are very different from one another, but they share a singular trait: their gender defines society’s and others’ expectations of them. Each woman must fight for who she is against the odds confronting her.
This Isn’t New is the shortest book I’ve ever written. Despite its brevity, I hope you find it powerful and thought-provoking. As release date draws near, I’ll share more info about where you can grab a copy and/or hear me speak about This Isn’t New.
Thank you for supporting me in this endeavor. You’re amazing, and I’m so grateful for you.
What If We Step Out?
A reminder that this coming Saturday, February 21, I’ll be on a panel of local authors at Jefferson County Library’s conversational event with Lisa Gardner. The event will be emceed by Carter Wilson. In addition to me, the panel includes Kristin Koval, Mario Acevedo, Mark Stevens, and Jon Bassoff. You can join us in person or watch a livestream. More info is here.
On Saturday, March 7, I’ll be at the Sisters in Crime Colorado quarterly meeting, on the panel “Nobody Writes Alone: Who, When and How to Ask for Help,” along with Nichelle Seely, Barbara Nickless, and Kate Lansing. Quarterly meetings are for SinC Colorado members, but you can check out the group and join that day! Contact SinC Colorado for more info.
For other upcoming events, keep an eye on The What If Journal and the Events page on my website.
Always Writing, Still Writing
I loved the trip down memory lane in this post—and the excitement I feel for the future. In addition to releasing This Isn’t New, I’m back to work on the novel I put aside to write the collection, and it’s coming along well.
When I’m not writing, I look forward to opportunities to connect with you in person or online this year. As always, my gratitude and my heart go out to you.
Keep reading, keep writing, keep creating, keep connecting. Keep the faith.
I'm looking forward to your book of short stories! I'm impressed with authors like you who are good at novels AND short stories.
Great to hear!