Finding Autumn: A Thanksgiving Reflection

It's Thanksgiving week, and I've been thinking about what I'm grateful for this year.

The obvious answer is family, friends, health, a roof over my head—all the essentials. But today, I want to talk about something that's caught me completely off guard: all of you.

The readers who found The Strangest of Places. The people who took a chance on an indie author with zero platform, no reviews, and no stars yet. The ones who left reviews, gave their star ratings, sent messages, and asked when Book 2 is coming out.

I didn't expect any of this.

The Quincy Reader

There's a review that made tears well up and spill down my cheeks when I read it:

"I don't usually share book reviews outside of book groups, but I think this one will be interesting to a lot of my IRL friends!"

The reviewer is from Quincy. She recognized every location—G-Town, Wollaston Beach, Balducci's, the 24-hour CVS on Beale Street, Finian's.

She wrote: "The main character, Autumn, graduated high school (my high school!)..."

That connection, that relatability, is a big part of what I wanted to do with this book.

I wanted to capture the Quincy I grew up in, when Hancock Street ran unbroken between the United First Parish Church and the Hancock Cemetery, not around it.

When Child’s World and Paperama were the highlight of your trips to Quincy Square.

When going to Brigham’s for ice cream and a lollipop bigger than the palm of your hand was where your family went after you graduated from kindergarten.

That’s the Quincy that doesn't exist anymore, except in the memories of those who were there in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s.

And she felt it; she saw her hometown in these pages.

That means everything to me.

The Jamband Fans

Another reviewer wrote: "The descriptions of the concerts and setlists will be a warm and fuzzy hug to any jamband fan."

Photo credit: ripple024 on Reddit - click the pic to see the original on r/phish

And then they said something that made me laugh because it's so true:

"I know a lot of people write off jamband fans as being in it for the drugs—and there are some who enjoy that—but honestly, it's so much more than that. Read the book (READ THE BOOK) and you will get a peek behind the veneer."

Yes. Exactly.

This is what I wanted to show: that the music scene isn't just about getting high in a parking lot (though sure, that happens). It's about community and finding your people. It’s about that feeling of belonging to something bigger than yourself.

If you've ever been to a show and felt that connection—that moment when the music hits just right and you look around and realize everyone in the crowd is feeling it too—you know what I mean.

If you haven't, then maybe this book gives you a window into what that feels like.

The Hopefulness You Didn't Know You Had

One reader wrote something that stopped me in my tracks:

"I can relate to how she often worries about the worst case scenario, but she also seems to have an underlying hopefulness of the future—even though she doesn't know she does."

This reader saw something in Autumn that Autumn herself doesn't see yet.

That's exactly what I was trying to capture. The way we carry hope even when we don't believe in it. The way we keep moving forward even when we're convinced nothing good is coming.

Autumn spends most of the book braced for disappointment, expecting abandonment, protecting herself from getting hurt. But she also keeps showing up. She keeps trying. She keeps opening herself to possibility, even when it terrifies her.

She doesn't recognize that as hope. She thinks of it as stubbornness, or desperation, or just just sucking it up (Buttercup), because that's what you have to do.

But that reader saw it for what it is, and I'm so grateful someone noticed.

READ THE BOOK

I keep coming back to that reviewer who wrote in all caps: READ THE BOOK.

I love it because it’s a.) a wink and a nod to all the Phish fans (it’s a long story, maybe I’ll explain it in another post some day) and b.) because if you're not in on that joke, it’s an urgent plea that you invest the time and effort into reading mine.

It’s not easy being an indie author. Nobody owes you their time and attention. There are millions of books out there that are being promoted with professional marketing budgets and savvy industry experts building buyer personas and relentlessly targeting them all across every social media platform.

Big-name authors with professionals promoting them are a lot to compete with, which is why I often don’t really try. I just hang out here, typing away for the love of the game and hoping maybe someone will stumble across my weird little world here and might even fall in love with it.

Somehow, against all odds, nearly a thousand people have found The Strangest of Places, and some of them loved it enough to rate it, review it, and ask me about Book 2.

It’s hard to put it into words, but the best I can do is to say that means everything to me.

The Playlist Promise

One reviewer mentioned they're "totally looking forward to listening (and reading the lyrics) to all of the songs and reviewing each chapter."

This is why I'm writing the Autumn's Playlist series here on the blog. For those who love music just as much as they love books, the songs matter. They're not just chapter titles—they're part of the story.

If you've been reading these posts, thank you. If you've been listening to the songs as you read the chapters, especially thank you. That's the experience I hoped for.

And if you haven't started yet? It's never too late. The playlist is waiting.

What's Next

With as many people asking about Book 2, I now feel encouraged—and honestly, inspired—to write one.

I have a pretty good idea of the opening. I know where Autumn is when we find her again, and I know some of the challenges she's about to face. But beyond that? I'm not entirely sure what happens.

I'll figure it out as I go. That's how Book 1 worked too—I knew the emotional arc, but the specific scenes revealed themselves as I wrote.

I haven't started writing yet, so I can't give you a timeline. But rest assured: I fully intend to make it happen. Your enthusiasm has convinced me that Autumn's story isn't finished yet.

So stay tuned here on the blog and keep an eye out for updates.

In the meantime, if you haven't read The Strangest of Places yet, there’s no time like the present. ;)

This Thanksgiving

So today, I'm grateful for:

• The Quincy locals who recognized their hometown and felt seen.

• The Phish fans who understood what the scene meant to Autumn—and to me.

• The readers who saw Autumn's underlying hopefulness even when she couldn't.

• The reviewers who told their friends to READ THE BOOK.

• Everyone who took a chance on an indie author with a weird little book about a latchkey kid finding her people.

  
  

Thank you.

Seriously. From the bottom of my heart.

I'm just a person who wrote a story. You're the ones who made it matter.

Happy Thanksgiving. 🧡