What Comes Next: Notes on the Second and Third Books

When I published Dreams Don’t Always End, it felt like closing a door that had been slightly ajar for years. The story had lived in my head and memory for so long, quietly shaping itself until I finally let it out into the world.

But that wasn’t the end.

I always knew there would be more. Not sequels, exactly—but companion pieces. Reflections. Echoes. Stand-alone stories that reference one another in quiet, sometimes unsettling ways. So here we are: Book Two and Book Three are taking shape—slowly, sketchily, and entirely on their own terms.

Stand-Alone, But Connected

These books aren’t parts of a trilogy in the traditional sense. You won’t need to read Book One to understand Book Two. You won’t need Book Two to make sense of Book Three. Each story can live on its own.

But for readers who’ve followed the thread, there will be moments—lines, names, places—that echo across the books. Small cues that link them together beneath the surface. A sense of continuity that’s more emotional than chronological.

The stories are different. The tones will shift. But they’re all rooted in the same themes: fractured memory, liminal space, and the quietly surreal ways our lives unfold.

Where I Am Right Now

To be honest, these books are still ideas more than pages. I’ve been taking notes, scribbling down odd phrases, saving strange images, and letting the stories form the way the first one did—organically, without pressure.

Unlike Dreams Don’t Always End, which played itself out in my head over years before I finally wrote it, these next books are forming more consciously. I’m not rushing them. Some of the scenes are vivid. Others are fragments waiting to connect. That’s how I like it. That’s how the first one found its voice too.

Visual Inspiration and Mood Boards

Right now, I’m spending a lot of time looking. At photographs. At paintings. At places that feel familiar even when I’ve never been there.

I’ve been exploring Instagram and Pinterest—searching for spaces, colours, moods. A staircase bathed in blue light. A cracked mirror in an abandoned clinic. A corridor that doesn’t end. These visuals don’t always relate directly to the plot. Sometimes, they’re just part of the atmosphere. Part of what the story wants to become.

If you’re curious, I’ll be sharing some of this visual journey in future blog posts—and perhaps even in a newsletter-exclusive mood board or two.

Stay With Me

Books Two and Three are years away, and I’m okay with that. I want to get them right. I want them to carry the same quiet charge as the first—without repeating it.

In the meantime, I’ll keep writing here, sharing thoughts, inspirations, and updates. The blog will grow alongside the stories.

So if you’ve read Dreams Don’t Always End and something in it stayed with you—
If you’re drawn to the space between dream and memory—
If you want to be part of the slow unfolding of something slightly strange and very human…

Then I invite you to keep checking back here. And better still, sign up for the newsletter. That way, you won’t miss the next thread in the pattern.

Thanks for walking this path with me.