Did you know that it’s somehow September? The month in which THE HOUSE OF GARDENIAS releases? The month in which, after ten full years of dreaming and rewriting and rejection, I finally publish my first Young Adult novel on September 29th?

PREORDER IT HERE. (PREORDERS ARE SO IMPORTANT.)

And then come celebrate with me! (And Margaret Owen!) The book launch for THE HOUSE OF GARDENIAS will be at Third Place Books (Lake Forest Part) on October 1 at 7pm! It's free—but RSVP at this link!

If you’re not in Seattle, there are a bunch of other places you’ll be able to find me this fall.

• Eugene, OR! An author talk and a book signing, October 23-24, with the Eugene Public Library. Links and more info coming ASAP!

• Portland! I’ll be at the Portland Book Festival, November 7. Schedule coming soon!

• Austin! Catch me at the Texas Book Festival alongside luminaries and legends (Kate DiCamillo! Hernan Diaz! Elizabeth Acevedo! I FAINT), November 14-15.

• Phillllllyyyyy! Educators and librarians and other NCTE attendees can find me at the ALAN (aka Assembly on Literature for Adolescents of NCTE) workshop in Philadelphia on November 22! I stressfully, painstakingly arranged my Thanksgiving travel (with a 3.5-year-old and a nearly 2-year-old) around this workshop, so I am going to give it my all!

I'll also be haunting some of my favorite podcasts this fall, including Spirits (MY BESTIES/I am their inaugural fourpeat guest), She Wore Black (Agatha is my ideal reader!), and Sleyhouse Presents (this interview with Trevor is maybe my favorite that I ever did for Alba Díaz), as well as a couple of new ones!

I am delighted to report that seclusion from The Internet (more on that below) and life raising feral toddlers has fully cured me of my media training; I have been equal parts unhinged and raw/vulnerable in every interview I've done thus far. (God help my publishers.) I’ll be sharing links to all of these episodes when they drop, both in this newsletter and across socials!

PREORDER THE HOUSE OF GARDENIAS TODAY

If you’re like damn, Isabel, I’m so happy for you with this YA thing and all, but I really prefer your adult work—fret not, I’ve got preorder links for you too!

My werewolf story “The Hand That Feeds,” set in the universe of my novel Vampires of El Norte, releases this month in the Latine horror anthology SOMETHING FOLLOWED US HOME, conveniently also out on September 29. Preorder it here!

And for the paperback girlies, great news: THE POSSESSION OF ALBA DÍAZ is OUT NOW in paperback wherever fine books are sold! I’m personally a huge fan of Nook & Cranny Books here in Seattle… go check them out if you’re local, or order online if you’re not!

collapses into a velvet armchair by the window with a deflated exhale

Now that the business part of this email is done with, let's catch up. How are you? It’s been ages since we last talked. I've been all right, actually. Despite it all.

In fact, yesterday I woke up and I felt ALIVE.

It's overcast and in the 60s. The leaves are rustling and donning autumn colors. The air tastes of an incoming storm. The scented candles have been lit. We finally, finally started watching the oft-recommended Widow’s Bay. My time of the year has ARRIVED. Yes, it's False Fall (TM) in Seattle and the warmth will come roaring back for one more bout of late golden summer before the seasons truly change, but for now, I'm relishing it. My creative senses awaken when the weather gets colder. My brain fog lifts when skies are gray. (There's a reason life in Scotland agreed with me.) Fresh school year vibes fill me with vim and vigor.

And boy, do I need it.

You might have noticed that this year I have been largely absent from The Internet writ large,including this newsletter. First, because back-to-back illnesses (shingles! hand foot mouth! flu! pneumonia!) and a death in the family at Easter ground me down to survival mode. Second, because the more time I spent off of social media, the more words I wrote. From January to the end of August, I wrote approximately 200,000 words of new fiction.

Two hundred thousand. That’s one (1) brand new novel, out next year. One (1) brand new short story. One (1) new project proposal that has (as of this week!) flung itself into the merciless void. And 80,000 more words of work on something that is now a decade old and very, very dear to my heart. 200,000.

That excludes outlines, brainstorming, rough drafts, etc—we’re talking pure new words, waiting to be unleashed on the world.

When you stumble upon that kind of treasure as an artist, you simply cannot ignore it. I'm going to be out and about on Instagram and Threads over the next month in the lead up to the release of THE HOUSE OF GARDENIAS, but guys. Guys. Guys. If you're an artist? Block that shit. Block everything. Block it with glee and spite. (I use the Bloom card for my phone and SelfControlApp for Mac. I also love ColdTurkeyWriter on Mac, which is a $9 one-off payment that is worth every pennny.) It's medicine for the creative soul.

In addition to blocking shit, I’ve recently incorporated some other practices into my creative life that have taken me by surprise. Two are deeply humbling; one makes me feel drunk with power.

1. I started flamenco classes in the spring. First because it is the most Scorpio-coded form of dance and I am nothing if not the most Scorpio-sun/Scorpio-rising creature of all time, and second, because well, sometimes grief makes you do impulsive things. Sometimes they stick. Conclusions: I am great at hands and arms. Like, so great. I'm proud of myself and I won't hide it. I danced a lot in high school but have not taken a class since; this is an undeniable triumph. However: I am not great at feet. Or combining hands and feet. I am in compas like 40% of the time. We're working on it. But from the minute I enter the dance studio and the palmas start, nothing else exists. I am in my body, listening to music, listening to rhythm, learning a new art form. I am wholly outside my head and outside my life. It is wonderful.

2. I have been painting and drawing for the first time since high school. I have drawn some decent things and a LOT of ugly things. I am practicing being at peace with ugliness and even treasuring the ugliness as proof that I am practicing. It is very humbling. I have also acquired two new mantras in the process. First: ready is not a feeling, ready is a decision. Second: good art is a consequence of consistent practice. Both are profoundly applicable to my writing process.  

3. In June, I read a Wirecutter article about how Ann Patchett writes at a treadmill desk. I remembered being intrigued by the walking pad trend that hit in 2023 or so and thought what the hell, if Ann says it works, I've gotta try it. I did some research and found a gently used walking pad on Facebook Marketplace for $75 and set it up with my standing desk. …Guys. Ann was right. I walk into my writing these days. I have a deliciously clicky keyboard with gentle, light actuation force across which my once-achey hands fly without pain. I connect it to a BYOK, a wee brick that simulates the Alphasmart Neo (my beloved!!). And I walk. Sometimes I hit 18k steps a day. Sometimes it's closer to 10k. But I always, always solve whatever problem I was working on. (And some shoulder pain+bad posture that I dealt with after my bout of pneumonia? Gone.) If I wake up anxious (often), I go to my office and walk it off. The words happen. It's glorious.

I feel, as I said, drunk on the power of walking and writing at the same time. (I’m walking right now, actually.) I simply cannot recommend it enough. It only took me ~15 minutes to get used to walking and typing at the same time. Now, plot problems that once seemed hopelessly tangled unspool themselves across my desk like cats napping in the sun. Clarity rings resplendent against the inside of my skull. Connections are made. The drafting simply flows.

At the beginning of the year, I set myself the goal of writing 300,000 words of new fiction or finishing three novels, whichever came first. May the gods of daycare illnesses smile upon this proclamation as I don my nazarlık and do everything I can to ward off el mal de ojo and the flu: I'm going to do it.

Once THE HOUSE OF GARDENIAS comes out, I'm gently closing the door on the world once more to dive into a short, brand new project (already sold!!) and that long, long old project that I am finally going to finish the last 50k words of after a whole damn decade of false starts and revamps (not yet sold... but cross your fingers).

In addition to that first novel I finished this year (formal announcement to come… very soon, actually, for it goes to copyedits in mere weeks) that means I'll have finished three novels this year. Three. Three new novels. In a year.

I usually write one a year, on average. Quitting socials is wild. I’m so full of joy and bursting with even more ideas. I have reams of notes and plans and reading lists for my 2027 projects. I feel… happy?! In this profoundly messed up world, it feels blasphemous to utter. But I am. My art sustains me and powers me forward. My art is resistance. My art is all I can do and all I want to do.

I hope you’ll stick around to read it all. (Because there’s going to be a lot of it.)

But first! You’ve gotta read THE HOUSE OF GARDENIAS! Out September 29, 2026 wherever fine books are sold.

Back to writing (and walking…!) and chasing those 300,000 words.

I can’t wait to update you on how that’s going soon.

all my love,

isabel xxxx