A note from Amy

Where I've been…

If you're here after reading one of my books, thank you. Really.

Over the last couple of years, I've been mostly quiet online and largely absent from publishing, and I wanted to finally talk honestly about why.

The truth is: I've been struggling with severe depression.

Not writer's block. Not a lack of ideas. Not losing interest in storytelling. Severe Treatment-Resistant Depression.

The kind that affects every part of your life. Your work. Your creativity. Your relationships. Your ability to care for yourself. Your ability to believe you'll ever feel like yourself again.

Mental health matters deeply to me, and I don't want to speak around it in vague, polished language anymore. Too many people quietly disappear because they're afraid to admit they're struggling, especially when they're supposed to be “creative,” “productive,” or “inspirational” all the time.

So this is me saying it plainly: I've been having a hard time.

There have been major life changes, health challenges, losses, burnout, and long stretches where simply getting through the day took everything I had. Writing, something that used to feel so natural to me, started to feel impossibly far away.

And honestly, that broke my heart for a while. Because these stories still matter to me. Music still matters to me. These characters still live in my head constantly. The Bookerverse was never abandoned, even during the silence.

I think part of healing is learning that disappearing for a while doesn't mean you've failed.

Sometimes it just means you've survived something difficult.

I'm still figuring things out. Slowly. Some days are better than others. Some days, creativity comes back in flashes. Some days it doesn't. But I'm trying to stop measuring myself against the version of me who could push through everything without stopping.

And yes, I'm slowly finding my way back to the page again, including work on On Your Mark.

To everyone who has read the books, recommended them, listened to the audiobooks, sent kind messages, or simply stayed patient while I went quiet: thank you more than I can properly explain. You mattered during the silence more than you know.

I don't have a dramatic comeback story or a perfect ending to wrap this up with. I'm just here. Still trying. Still creating when I can. Still believing these stories deserve to be told.

And maybe someone reading this needs to hear that surviving counts too.

– Amy