Lily Writes

Back from vacation–and that page is blank.

Every book has that moment—the reset. I went back to page one this week, rereading what I’d written, reacquainting myself with the cast in my head. Who are we again? Where were we going? What’s the conflict?

As usual, the reread turned into a rewrite. Love that line—keep it. Hate that one—cut it. Oh, that’s all wrong—fix it. Soon enough, I was editing my way right up to where I’d left off.

The edge of the map.
The blank page.

And then the voices started again. The characters, leaning close, whispering: This is what happens next. Come on. Get it down. Don’t worry if it’s messy. Just write.

This morning, my brain delivered the biggest gift of all: a dream. Not just any dream—the dream. I woke up with the entire climax mapped out in perfect, heart-pounding detail. I’d been circling that scene for weeks, juggling versions in my head, searching for the path from critical choice to final resolution.

Hero is epic. It needs surprise, it needs awe, it needs that shiver-down-your-spine supernatural inevitability that every Vanguardian story demands. And until last night, I didn’t know how it all fit together.

But my subconscious did.

I woke, still half in the dream, and thought: Yes. This is it. This works.

And the wildest part? I hadn’t even had my coffee yet.

That’s the real magic of writing. Sometimes the story comes to you, fully formed, while you’re asleep. Sometimes your characters won’t stop whispering until you finally put them on the page.

Either way, the blank page isn’t blank anymore.