Shifting Sands follows the survivors of Sol Thalen in the aftermath of its fall as they try to rebuild their culture and society when everything has literally been destroyed. How did you approach writing about this destruction and your characters’ response to it?

For me, destruction is never just about the physical loss of a city—it’s about what happens to identity, purpose, and relationships in the aftermath. When Sol Thalen fell, it wasn’t just the loss of a home; it was the unraveling of legacy, belief, and the illusion of safety. I approached the writing with a deep sense of grief—both personal and communal. I asked myself, What do people hold onto when everything collapses? The characters’ responses came from that place of questioning. Just as some characters choose hope—clinging to survival and the chance to rebuild and dream of a future—others give up hope for themselves, often believing that their own death or disappearance might still serve a purpose. There’s this tragic tendency to justify surrender as a kind of sacrifice: If I fall, maybe someone else can rise. That contrast—between hoping for self and hoping for others—is the heart of the emotional conflict I wanted readers to feel. It’s rarely clean or heroic. It’s messy, human, and deeply personal. And it’s in those moments, I think, that the soul of a story reveals itself.

It seems you took your time in developing the characters and the story, creating a great emotional impact while the survivors process what is left of their world and civilization. How did you manage the pacing of the story while keeping readers engaged?

Thank you—that means a lot. Pacing is something I pay obsessive attention to. I wanted the emotional beats to land, but I also didn’t want the story to feel like it was dragging its feet. What I aimed for was a rhythm: moments of stillness and reflection followed by bursts of urgency. It’s like breathing. When the characters pause to mourn or reflect, the reader breathes with them. But when danger returns—and it always does—they’re pulled right back into the action. I layered multiple storylines so that even when one character is reeling, another might be scheming or moving forward. That way, readers never feel stuck. There’s always a heartbeat somewhere.

I also use an outline, and I’m meticulous about following it. That’s where I catch when there’s too much breathing space, when a chapter feels like it’s meandering, or when a sequence clearly needs to be tightened with rising tension or sharper stakes. The outline becomes a map of emotional flow and momentum, helping me keep that delicate balance. I layered multiple storylines so that even when one character is reeling, another might be scheming or moving forward. That way, readers never feel stuck. There’s always a heartbeat somewhere.

Are you a fan of the fantasy and adventure genres? What books do you think most influenced your work?

Absolutely, I’m a lifelong fan. Fantasy gave me the language to talk about things I didn’t always have words for—identity, grief, power, longing. I grew up reading Tolkien and C.S. Lewis like many others, but it was later on that I was deeply moved by authors like Brandon Sanderson, Cassandra Clare, J.K. Rowling, and Ursula K. Le Guin. Each of them, in their own way, showed me that fantasy could be epic and intimate. That worldbuilding could serve emotional truth. Their works taught me that it’s not just about dragons or swords or kingdoms—it’s about the people who bleed and hope in between. I try to carry that into every page I write.

I hope the series continues in other books. If so, where will the story take readers?

Thank you—and yes, it absolutely does continue. Shifting Sands is the fourth installment of a five-book saga, and the next book is the finale, where everything comes to a head. The choices made in Shifting Sands ripple outward, and readers will be taken to corners of the world that have only been hinted at until now. The political game gets even deadlier. Old wounds resurface. And the more fantastical elements take center stage in ways that force the characters to question not just their loyalties, but their very sense of identity.

If Shifting Sands was about surviving the collapse, Ancient Paths is about reckoning—learning who you really are when certain truths come to light, and deciding what kind of legacy you want to leave behind. Some legacies, after all, might be too broken to rebuild. And some people may discover they were never meant to serve themselves, but something far greater.

Readers have often told me they don’t know how the stakes could possibly get any higher—and to that, I say: I’m excited for them. Many have also noticed how I tend to plant seeds in earlier books that only bear fruit later on. Well, this fifth and final book is where all those seeds bloom. Every thread comes together. Every secret is revealed. This is the climax of everything.

Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website | Amazon