Step inside The Conjurors Series with an Animal Crossing New Horizons island tour

World building is my favorite part of writing fantasy. When I first outlined The Conjurors series, I wanted a setting totally disconnected from our reality. That is exactly how The Globe was born. It is a magical land tucked away in the center of a black hole where the rules of physics give way to pure magic.

Because this world is so unique, I thought a lot about classic video games when I created it. Games almost always have distinct landscapes like an ice world, a desert world, or a water world. I built that exact concept directly into the lore of the books to make exploring The Globe feel like advancing through levels.

For those who have never played it, Animal Crossing: New Horizons is a popular Nintendo Switch video game where players are given a deserted island to completely customize. You can build cliffs, dig rivers, and decorate inside and outside to design your own perfect world. Translating The Globe into this game felt like a perfect fit because my books already shared DNA with video game maps.

I spent the last few months physically mapping out the land. I designed the layout to be a sequential journey. If you follow the path, you will walk through the first book of The Conjurors Series, The Society of Imaginary Friends, in the exact order Valerie does.

Walking the story beats

Your journey starts the moment you leave the airport. You land right in Arden. I wanted to capture the feeling of a deeply magical forest, so I used the game’s glowing moss and mushroom items to surround you with the vibrant magic of the Society. If you want to try making your own, check out this guide on how to build a magical forest in ACNH.

As you follow the path forward, you will catch a quick sneak peek of Plymouth, the underground city beneath Arden. The camera angle in the game is usually fixed, so I used a design trick called forced perspective here. By placing smaller items on cliffs far away, it creates an optical illusion that makes looking down at Plymouth seem like a peek underground. Here is a great tutorial on forced perspective if you want to see how the illusion works.

Next, you can explore the colorful, horseshoe-shaped path at the heart of Arden (right above Plymouth), which has the biggest of the guilds on the Globe, including The Society of Imaginary Friends, Knights of Light, and Guardians of the Boundary. They are all decorated inside and out! From there, you get to travel by rollercoaster straight into the desert. You all know how much I love rollercoasters in real life, so building this was one of the most rewarding parts of the game.

You then continue your journey into the futuristic city of Messina. In front is a suburban neighborhood, but behind it visitors can see the city skyline. To bring this area to life, I used glowing servers and neon lights. You can watch this how-to video on building city skylines to see the creative process.

Next comes my favorite interactive part of the island tour. The game features special warp pipes that instantly teleport your character across the map. I used one of these to represent the Where-O-Well Valerie jumps in to escape her enemies. You jump in, and the pipe transports you directly to Elsinore. This area is a pure ice world. I used the game’s frozen ice block items to build a massive, shimmering ice castle.

Finally, the terrain shifts. You move from Elsinore to the bleak, purple land of Dunsinane, where the atmosphere grows heavy. This is where the final battle takes place at the Black Castle. If you go inside and find the dungeon, you’ll even find the sword Cyrus infused with light from a glowing flower.

Experience the world of The Conjurors in a whole new way

If you have a copy of the game, you can visit the island right now. Just hop into a bed, go to sleep, and enter the dream address below.

Dream Address: DA-5087-9288-3488

If you have not started The Conjurors series yet, now is the perfect time. You can grab a free copy of book one, The Society of Imaginary Friends, and walk through the island as you read along with Valerie’s journey.

I would absolutely love to see your characters exploring the desert or braving the dungeons of the Black Castle. Please take pictures if you visit and tag me so I can see them. Thank you for always supporting this series and letting me share these creative side projects with you.

Happy traveling!

Decoding fiction age categories from middle grade to adult

I spend a lot of time reading across the entire sci-fi and fantasy spectrum, bouncing from middle grade adventures to sprawling adult space operas depending on my mood. But as an author, I know firsthand that pinning down exactly where a manuscript fits can be a headache.

When I sit down to draft, the boundaries between Middle Grade, Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult fiction aren’t always clear-cut. Does a middle grade adventure lose its classification if the emotional stakes get too dark? If a YA protagonist is tackling intense, systemic rebellion, does that bump the book into New Adult territory?

Whether you’re a reader trying to find the right maturity level and pacing for your weekend binge, or a fellow writer trying to figure out how to pitch your current work-in-progress to an agent, knowing the industry standards is crucial. Ultimately, the differences between these categories come down to four main pillars: the age of the protagonist, the thematic focus, the target word count, and the level of mature content allowed on the page.

Here is a breakdown of what makes each age category unique, what readers expect, and what we need to keep in mind as writers.

Middle Grade (MG)

The target audience: Readers aged 8 to 12.

The protagonist: Usually between 10 and 13 years old.

Middle Grade fiction is characterized by a sense of wonder, fast pacing, and a focus on the protagonist’s immediate world. The central conflicts usually revolve around family dynamics, friendships, and figuring out where you fit in. While the stakes can be high, the emotional lens is focused on a child stepping slightly outside their comfort zone for the first time.

  • Writing guidelines: Word counts sit on the lower end (usually 35,000–65,000 words). Romance is limited to a first crush, and on-page swearing or graphic violence is strictly off-limits.
  • Reader expectations: High adventure, deep friendships, and clean content.
  • Classic example: The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan — A perfect showcase of a 12-year-old protagonist dealing with family issues while trying to survive mythical monsters.

Young Adult (YA)

The target audience: Readers aged 12 to 18.

The protagonist: Typically 15 to 18 years old.

Young Adult fiction is intense and emotional. This is the age of first true love, first major heartbreak, and the first time realizing the adults in charge might actually be wrong. The themes shift away from the internal family unit and focus heavily on identity, rebellion, and society at large.

  • Writing guidelines: Word counts generally sit between 60,000 and 90,000 (often pushing 100,000 for sci-fi/fantasy). Romance can be a major subplot, but the heat level usually “fades to black.” Swearing and violence are present but shouldn’t be gratuitous.
  • Reader expectations: High-stakes action, emotional angst, and intense romantic tension.
  • Classic example: Cinder by Marissa Meyer — A brilliant blend of sci-fi and fairy tale where a teenage protagonist challenges a galactic empire.

Navigating the line between MG and YA

The boundary between Middle Grade and Young Adult can sometimes be blurry, especially in science fiction and fantasy. When I was writing The Conjurors series, I had to carefully consider where it fit. It has the wonder, pacing, and friendship dynamics that appeal heavily to Middle Grade readers, but as the characters face increasingly complex moral dilemmas and darker stakes, it naturally bridges the gap into early Young Adult territory. My hope is that the series matured alongside its readers.

New Adult (NA)

The target audience: Readers aged 18 to 25.

The protagonist: Typically 18 to 25 years old.

New Adult bridges the gap between YA and Adult fiction. These characters are out of the house, away from their parents, and navigating the messy transition into true independence, college life, and first careers. While originally known as a contemporary romance category, NA has recently exploded in the sci-fi and “romantasy” spaces.

  • Writing guidelines: Explicit content, heavy swearing, and mature situations are fair play and often expected. Word counts vary wildly but usually mirror adult fantasy (80,000–120,000+ words).
  • Reader expectations: The fast pacing and emotional intensity of YA, combined with the explicit content and complex life problems of older fiction.
  • Classic example: Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros — A massive romantasy hit featuring a college-aged protagonist, lethal trials, and high heat.

Navigating the line between YA and NA

Finding the right label can be just as tricky at the older end of the spectrum. My Joan the Made series walks the razor-thin line between upper Young Adult and emerging New Adult. The protagonist is grappling with themes of intense systemic rebellion and autonomy that resonate deeply with older YA readers, but the grit, emotional maturity, and complex consequences push it right up against the boundaries of New Adult fiction.

Adult Fiction

The target audience: Readers aged 18 and up.

The protagonist: 20s through the golden years.

Adult fiction is unrestricted. The themes here tackle every phase of life: marriages, career burnout, parenthood, existential crises, and expansive world-building. The pacing can be more deliberate, allowing for deeply layered plots and massive, sprawling casts of characters.

  • Writing guidelines: No restrictions on content. It can be entirely clean or incredibly explicit, depending on the specific sub-genre. Word counts usually range from 80,000 to 120,000+ for sci-fi and fantasy.
  • Reader expectations: Layered prose, complex moral gray areas, and characters who often have significant life experience before the story even begins.
  • Classic example: The Martian by Andy Weir — A highly technical sci-fi survival story starring an established professional, featuring themes of resilience and adult humor.

Quick reference category guide

If you need a fast breakdown, here is how the industry generally separates the age categories:

CategoryProtagonist AgeCore ThemesRomance & Heat Level
Middle Grade10–13Fitting in, family, discovering the worldNone to mild crushes
Young Adult15–18Identity, rebellion, challenging societyModerate (usually fades to black)
New Adult18–25Independence, college, early adulthoodHigh (explicit content expected)
Adult20+All phases of life, complex gray areasVaries entirely by sub-genre

Where to find real science to build your sci-fi worlds

If you’ve read Andy Weir’s Project Hail Mary (and if you haven’t, please drop everything and go read it right now), you know the absolute thrill of believable science fiction. Watching Ryland Grace use actual physics, chemistry, and biology to solve interstellar problems didn’t just make for a gripping story. It made the impossible feel entirely real.

Andy Weir’s Project Hail Mary

When your technology is rooted in reality, it anchors the reader. It builds a bridge of suspension of disbelief so strong that when you do introduce the aliens or the faster-than-light travel, the reader follows you without a second thought.

So where do you find inspiration that feels like the future but is actually happening today? Here are my favorite goldmines for real-world sci-fi world-building:

1. DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency)

Darpa

If you want to know what the military tech of the future looks like, look no further than DARPA’s current projects. This is the US agency responsible for developing emerging technologies for the military. They are the ones funding research into mind-controlled prosthetics, self-healing materials, and autonomous swarm drones. Browsing their news feed feels like reading the prologue to a cyberpunk thriller. If you need a piece of tech that sounds crazy but is actively being prototyped, this is your starting line.

2. arXiv.org

arXiv

Pronounced “archive,” arXiv is an open-access repository of electronic preprints. It is essentially where physicists, astronomers, and computer scientists drop their newest and most mind-bending theories before they hit mainstream journals. Want to read a brand-new paper on theoretical warp drives, quantum entanglement, or the atmospheric composition of a newly discovered exoplanet? It is all here. The papers can be incredibly dense, but skimming the abstracts is a phenomenal way to spark a “what if?” scenario for your next novel.

3. MIT Technology Review

MIT Technology Review

While arXiv gives you the raw data, MIT Technology Review offers beautifully curated journalism about the tech that is actively reshaping our world. They cover everything from CRISPR gene editing to artificial intelligence breakthroughs. It is perfect for understanding not just how the technology works, but how it will impact human society, ethics, and daily life. That intersection is exactly where the conflict in a good YA sci-fi novel lives.

4. NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) News

NASA JPL Jet Propulsion Laboratory

For the space opera writers out there, JPL is a must. These are the folks building the rovers and the deep-space probes. Following their updates gives you a realistic look at the logistics of space travel. You can learn about the delays in communication, radiation shielding, and the incredible engineering required just to land a hunk of metal on another rock. It is the perfect place to figure out how your intrepid young heroes are actually going to keep their ship flying when the engine goes out.

Building a universe takes a lot of imagination, but a little bit of reality makes the stars shine just a bit brighter. What about you? Writers, where do you go to find your world-building inspiration? Readers, what is your favorite piece of sci-fi tech that you wish existed in real life? Let me know in the comments!

How the world building in Scythe changed the way I write

I’ve been in a total book hangover since turning the last page of the Scythe trilogy. You know that feeling where the real world looks a little bit blurry because you’re still half-submerged in the one you just left? That was me for three days straight. As I read, I found myself constantly reaching for my highlighter, not just because the plot was a total roller coaster, but because Neal Shusterman managed to make a “perfect” future feel so hauntingly inevitable.

It’s exactly the kind of balance I’m constantly chasing in my own novels: that sweet spot where big, “what-if” science meets the messy, complicated hearts of the people living through it. I’ve been noodling on why this world felt so real to me, and since I always process things better once I get them down on the page, I wanted to share the world-building shifts I’m making in my own work after spending time in the Scythehood.

Give your “perfect” world a price tag

In my own drafts, I’m always tempted to make things go smoothly for my characters once they find a portal or a piece of tech. Scythe reminded me that the most interesting stories happen when the science is flawless but the people are still a mess. Shusterman gives humanity immortality, but then shows us the weird, psychological rot that sets in when no one is afraid of the end anymore.

If I’m building a utopia, I need to find the “emotional tax” my characters have to pay to live there. If there’s no friction, there’s no story.

Let the world be a silent witness

The “Thunderhead” (the AI that runs the world) is probably the most fascinating character I’ve encountered in years. It’s a literal god-machine, but its choice to stay out of the Scythes’ business creates more tension than a killer robot ever could. It made me rethink how I handle power in my own books.

Sometimes the most effective element in your world is the one that refuses to help. It forces your characters to grow (or fail) on their own terms, which is way more satisfying to read.

Keep a foot in the real world

Even in a future where you can “reset” your age and live forever, people in this book still care about the color of their robes and the status of their journals. It’s a great reminder that world-building isn’t just about the big ideas, it’s about the small, human vanities.

No matter how far into the future or a fantasy realm I go, I need to bring a piece of home with me. Whether it’s a character’s favorite mug or a specific tradition, those tiny details are what make a world feel like a place I’ve actually visited.

I’m already looking at my current work-in-progress with fresh eyes. I’m asking myself: Where is the human cost? What are the rules my characters can’t break? If you’re a reader, these are the details that make you stay up until 2:00 AM. If you’re a writer, these are the tools that help you build a world worth staying up for.

How to write smart comedy for middle grade readers

Have you ever noticed what happens when adults try to write funny books for 10-to-12-year-olds? It’s like they suffer sudden, total amnesia about what it’s actually like to be in middle school.

Because I’m raising my own middle-grade (MG) humans here in California, I spend a ridiculous amount of time thinking about my audience. When I write YA sci-fi and fantasy, the instinct is to push the boundaries with massive stakes and sharp banter. But when writing MG comedy, too many adults default to sanitizing the world, dumbing down the jokes, and delivering a heavy-handed moral.

Kids hate that. (Me too, as it happens.)

Middle grade readers are incredibly smart, deeply empathetic, and they can spot condescension from a mile away. Right now, I’m elbow-deep in drafting my newest MG comedy, currently titled Super Santa. Working on this delightfully wild premise has been a daily reminder of the golden rule of kidlit: You have to write up to your audience, never down.

If you’re tackling the MG fiction space, here’s how to keep your readers laughing without ever patting them on the head.

1. Let Diverse Characters Just Exist

Kids today are growing up in a complex world, and they understand it way better than adults give them credit for. They don’t need a lecture to explain reality.

For example, in Super Santa, my protagonist has a nonbinary sidekick. I didn’t write a heavy-handed, four-page monologue explaining their pronouns. Why? Because 11-year-olds don’t need me to. They just accept that their friend uses they/them, and then they immediately get back to the actual problem at hand: saving the North Pole. Pandering is the absolute enemy of comedic pacing. Trust that your readers understand the world, and let your diverse characters just exist and be funny.

2. Never Explain the Punchline

There’s a reason kids absolutely inhale series like Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Dog Man. It’s not just because they’re hilarious—it’s because the authors trust their readers to understand irony, visual gags, and the sheer absurdity of growing up.

A fatal mistake adults make is setting up a brilliant joke and then over-explaining the punchline just to make sure the kid “got it.” Kids are masters of sarcasm. Give them dialogue that crackles and let the joke stand on its own.

3. Treat the Absurd with Absolute Sincerity

The fastest way to ruin a comedic MG concept is for the author to wink at the camera to show that they know it’s silly.

Whether your protagonist is dealing with super-powered Santa Claus powers, a sentient toilet, or an alien invasion in the cafeteria, the characters inside the book have to treat the situation as life-or-death reality. The humor comes from how seriously they take it, not from you mocking your own premise.

4. Acknowledge That Middle School is Terrifying

Comedy is usually just a coping mechanism for anxiety, and being in middle school is objectively terrifying. Your body is weird, your friendships are shifting, and the world feels huge.

When writing funny middle grade books, you don’t need to shield your readers from dark, messy emotions. Often the comedic magic is just a vehicle to explore very real feelings. Show them characters who use humor to mask how scared they are and then show those same kids finding the courage to save the day anyway.

SIDE QUEST: From the journal of Lord Malakor the Unforgiving

Welcome to Side Quest, a series of posts I share on my blog from time to time that give you a peek into the weird ‘what if’ scenarios and playful thought experiments I use to keep my imagination fired up when I’m taking a break from my latest novel.

Day 482 of the Eternal Gloom

I am this close to scorching the entire Eastern province. Not because of their pathetic rebellion. Not because of their overdue tithes. But because that gilded buffoon, Sir Gideon the “Gleaming,” just ruined a perfectly good batch of Shadowberry & Ghost Pepper Preserve.

Do you know how hard it is to get ghost peppers to grow in a cursed climate? The soil pH has to be exactly 4.5.

I was at the most crucial stage. The jam had just reached a 211-degree rolling boil. I was performing the wrinkle test on a frozen plate. The set was looking exquisite. I was already picturing the blue ribbon at the All-Kingdom Confectionery Contest.

And then, he bursts in.

“By the Light of Zorath!” he yelled, probably waking the entire crypt. “Fiend! Your bubbling Plague of Eternal Blight is at an end!”

I tried to stop him. “Gideon, you oaf, watch the jars! They’ve just been sterilized!”

But no. He just had to swing that ridiculous, glowing broadsword. Smashed my copper cauldron right off the fire pit. Two gallons of premium, pectin-balanced preserve, splattered all over my rare, hand-carved despair-stone floor. It’s going to be a nightmare to clean.

“The world is safe once more, Malakor!” he shouted, pointing the sword at me.

I just… I couldn’t.

“You… you… blond-haired menace,” I sputtered. “That was my submission batch! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to achieve a consistent flavor profile?”

Did he pause to really listen? To hear me? No! He threw the pot out the window and left, looking smug.

This is the fifth time this month. He thinks my canning operation is an “alchemical weapons lab.” He “liberated” my prize-winning apricot-habanero last week, thinking it was “liquid gold” to fund my armies. I bought those apricots from a mortal farmer. A mortal farmer, Gideon! His name is Stan!

I will have my revenge. And I will win “Best in Show” for my Spiced Blood-Orange Marmalade. Just as soon as I can re-sterilize my equipment.

Sidekicks with main character energy

As a writer, there’s a secret, terrifying, and exhilarating thing that can happen while you’re drafting: a character you intended for a minor role walks into a scene and refuses to leave.

They show up with a fully-formed voice, a riveting backstory you never planned, and a perspective so compelling it threatens to derail your carefully crafted plot. They aren’t just supporting the protagonist anymore; they feel like the hero of a different, fascinating story that’s happening just off-page.

That’s what I call “Main Character Energy.” It’s more than just being a fan favorite. It’s the powerful sense that a character has their own complete, vibrant world spinning within the larger narrative. Here are three secondary characters who radiate that energy, making their books infinitely richer.

1. Inej Ghafa from Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Kaz Brekker may be the mastermind, but Six of Crows is arguably Inej Ghafa’s story of reclamation. A girl of Suli heritage sold into indenture, her quest isn’t about money; it’s about buying back her own life and hunting the slavers who stole it. Her entire arc is a classic hero’s journey of confronting trauma and forging a new identity, happening in the shadow of a heist. You get the feeling that if the book followed only her, it would be just as compelling, if not more so. She is the moral center, and her quiet, deadly grace makes her the novel’s true gravitational pull.

2. Kenji Kishimoto from the Shatter Me series by Tahereh Mafi

Kenji isn’t just the comic relief; he’s the narrator of the story we wish we were reading sometimes. In a series defined by intense romance and angst, Kenji is the only one with enough perspective to see the utter absurdity of their situation, and he’s not afraid to say it. His Main Character Energy comes from the fact that he has a life, a history, and responsibilities—leading the soldiers of Sector 45—that exist completely outside of the main love triangle. He’s the protagonist of a gritty, found-family story about survival that just happens to intersect with Juliette’s epic romance.

3. Nico di Angelo from the Heroes of Olympus series by Rick Riordan

Nico’s power comes from the fact that his most important character development happens between books, in the shadows. We see the cheerful, myth-obsessed kid, and then we see the brooding, immensely powerful Son of Hades. His transformation is so profound that it forces us to imagine the harrowing solo journey he undertook. As a gay Italian demigod from the 1940s, he is a man out of time and out of place, everywhere he goes. He’s the protagonist of a dark, gothic tragedy who occasionally wanders into Percy Jackson’s sunnier adventure story, reminding us that the world is much bigger and scarier than we thought.


These are the characters who prove that a story’s magic doesn’t always come from the person on the cover. They remind us that every person on the street has a life as vivid and complex as our own.

One platform to rule them all, or life outside the Kindle Unlimited universe?

If you’re an indie author, you’ve stood at this exact crossroads. It’s one of the biggest strategic decisions we have to make, right up there with choosing a cover or deciding a character’s fate. On one side, you have the bustling, high-traffic empire of Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited (KU). On the other, the vast, uncharted frontier of “going wide.”

As the captain of my own author career, I’ve piloted ships in both systems. My Throwback Series lives exclusively in the KU ecosystem, while the Conjurors Series was launched to explore the wide galaxy of platforms.

Now, with a new novel set to launch in just a couple of months, I’m standing at that crossroads again, looking at the star-charts and trying to decide which flight plan is right for this new adventure.

The Gravitational Pull of the KU Empire

There’s no denying the power of Kindle Unlimited. It’s a massive, concentrated system of readers—arguably the most voracious readers in the galaxy. For my sci-fi Throwback Series, choosing KU felt right. It allowed me to tap into a built-in audience that loves to binge-read a series, and the page-read payment model can be incredibly powerful.

Marketing feels simpler when you’re only pointing your lasers at one target. You can focus all your energy and ad spend on a single destination, which for a busy author (and parent!) is a huge advantage. For many authors, KU is their entire solar system, and they thrive there.

The Magic of the Uncharted Worlds

But then there’s the other path. The one that feels a little more like exploration.

When you go wide, you’re not just sending your book to other stores like Kobo or Apple; you’re opening it up to entirely new ways of being discovered. For instance, I’ve shared some of my work on Wattpad for free, not knowing what to expect. The result? Waking up to comments from readers in the Philippines, getting messages from someone in on the other side of the world who stayed up all night to finish a story. That global connection is an incredible feeling.

And then there’s the quiet magic of libraries. I’ve seen my books pop up in library systems in all over the country. It’s a thrill that page-read data just can’t replicate – especially when you meet fans from across the country who have read and loved my series.

That moment. That’s it. That’s the feeling.

It wasn’t a sale. It wasn’t a page-read. It was a connection. A kid found a portal to a new world I built, right there in her school library, and it meant something to her. That’s a powerful argument for making sure your work can be discovered anywhere and everywhere.

Charting the Course for the New Ship

So, here I stand, about two months out from launching a brand-new novel. Do I dock it at the bustling, predictable spaceport of KU, hoping to attract the massive crowd of subscribers there? Or do I fuel it up for a journey into the wide unknown, aiming for those library shelves and international readers, hoping to create more of those magical, real-world connections?

Honestly, I haven’t decided yet. Each path has its own quests and its own rewards.

But I’d love to turn this over to you. Whether you’re a reader or a fellow writer, what do you think? As a reader, where do you discover new books? As a writer, are you Team KU or Team Wide?

Let me know in the comments below.

Meet a few of the youngest stars of YA fantasy & sci-fi fiction writing

Do you ever have a story in your head that feels so huge, so epic, that you think, “Who am I to write this?” It’s a feeling a lot of writers have, especially when they’re young. But some of the most groundbreaking, imaginative, and successful books in recent years were written by authors who weren’t much older than their target audience. They prove that you don’t need decades of life experience to build a new world from scratch. All you need is a powerful idea and the drive to see it through.

Let’s get inspired by a few of the youngest authors who took the YA science fiction and fantasy world by storm.

Christopher Paolini, author of Eragon

  • Breakout Age: Paolini started writing Eragon at just 15 years old. It was famously self-published before being picked up by a major publisher, when he was 19.
  • The Hit Book: Eragon, the first book in The Inheritance Cycle, became a global phenomenon. A classic farm-boy-finds-a-dragon-egg story, it was everything an epic fantasy fan could want.
  • What Made It Special: Eragon is a masterclass in ambition. Paolini wasn’t just writing a story; he was building a massive world with its own languages, history, and rules of magic. He proved that a teenager could not only write a novel, but could command the epic scale and intricate detail that the genre demands, inspiring a whole generation of young writers to dream bigger.

Veronica Roth, author of Divergent

  • Breakout Age: Roth famously wrote Divergent during her senior year of college. It was published when she was just 22 years old.
  • The Hit Book: Divergent kicked off a series that became a cornerstone of the YA dystopian boom. It tells the story of Tris Prior, who lives in a futuristic Chicago where society is divided into five factions based on human virtues.
  • What Made It Special: Divergent‘s genius lies in its powerful central metaphor. The faction system was a brilliant and instantly relatable way to explore the intense pressure teens feel to fit in and define their identity. It tapped directly into that universal high school question: “Where do I belong?” The psychological trials were a unique and thrilling way to explore character depth and courage.

Tomi Adeyemi, author of Children of Blood and Bone

  • Breakout Age: Adeyemi was 23 when her debut, Children of Blood and Bone, landed one of the biggest publishing deals in YA history.
  • The Hit Book: Children of Blood and Bone is a soaring epic fantasy that follows Zélie Adebola as she attempts to bring magic back to her oppressed people.
  • What Made It Special: This book was a cultural landmark. Adeyemi wove West African mythology and Yoruba spiritual traditions into a powerful, action-packed fantasy that felt both classic and revolutionary. It tackled deep themes of oppression, race, and identity with a fiery passion that resonated with millions of readers. Adeyemi showed the immense, world-changing power of telling stories that had been left off the fantasy map for far too long.

The next time you sit down to write and that little voice of doubt creeps in, just remember these authors. They didn’t wait for permission to build their worlds. Your age isn’t a barrier—it’s your superpower. You have a voice and a perspective that no one else has.

So go write that story. We’re all waiting to read it.

SIDE QUEST: So you’re the chosen one. Here’s how to procrastinate responsibly.

Welcome to Side Quest, a new series of posts I’ll share on my blog from time to time that give you a peek into the weird ‘what if’ scenarios and playful thought experiments I use to keep my imagination fired up when I’m taking a break from my latest novel.This is the very first one, and I hope it gives your own creative brain a fun little jolt!

It finally happened. The glowing amulet pulsed in your palm, the talking squirrel delivered his cryptic prophecy, or maybe the birthmark on your arm started looking suspiciously like a map to the Lost City of Gorgonzar.

Congratulations. You’re the Chosen One. An ancient evil is stirring, a galactic empire is threatening the Outer Rim, and you—yes, you, the person who considers finding matching socks a major victory—are the only one who can stop it.

There’s just one problem. You have a history final on Tuesday, your favorite show just dropped a new season, and that pile of laundry in the corner is one t-shirt away from achieving sentience. Destiny is calling, but your phone is buzzing with notifications that feel just a little more urgent.

Don’t panic. This isn’t a guide on how to save the world. This is a guide on how to put it off… responsibly. Welcome to the art of Strategic Destiny-Delaying.

Step 1: Re-evaluate your priorities with the tier system of impending doom.

Sure, the Shadow Overlord Xylos is planning to blot out the sun. That sounds bad. But will he give you a detention that goes on your permanent record if you don’t finish your book report on Ethan Frome? No. Your teacher, Mrs. Davison, will.

Create a simple chart. In one column, list your epic quests (“Vanquish the Serpent King,” “Find the Seven Shards of Light”). In the other, list your real-life tasks (“Walk the dog,” “Finish algebra homework”). The task that will result in immediate, tangible consequences (i.e., parental grounding or a failing grade) wins. The fate of the universe has been around for billions of years; it can wait until after dinner.

Step 2: Disguise your training as household chores.

No one can accuse you of slacking off if you’re being productive. You just have to reframe it.

  • Are you sweeping the kitchen floor? No, you are practicing staff combat with the Legendary Broom of Tidiness.
  • Just folding clothes? Think again. You’re actually inscribing protective sigils into the very fabric of your armor to ensure it withstands the rigors of the coming quest (to the movies).
  • Are you practicing your heroic “I’m here to save you!” entrance in the bathroom mirror? That’s just good personal hygiene and confidence-building.

Step 3: Conduct extensive “lore research.”

Your quest will require immense knowledge of past heroes, battle tactics, and plot twists. How does one acquire this knowledge? By watching hours of television, of course.

That eight-season fantasy epic isn’t a distraction; it’s a historical document. You’re studying the effectiveness of plot armor, analyzing the classic “unlikely friendship” trope, and taking notes on what not to do when facing a dragon. When your parents ask what you’re doing, simply look at them with grave importance and say, “I’m studying the archives.”

Step 4: Engage in strategic fellowship vetting.

You can’t face the Dark Lord alone. You’ll need a ragtag team of loyal companions. But choosing them is a delicate process that requires careful observation in a casual setting.

Are you going to get fudge with your best friend? No. You are assessing their suitability for the “comic relief with a heart of gold” role. Does their choice of toppings show a bold, decisive nature? Are they willing to share, proving their loyalty? This isn’t just hanging out; it’s team-building.

So go on, Chosen One. The world will still be there waiting to be saved when you’re ready. Probably. In the meantime, that new season isn’t going to watch itself.