Every book I’ve ever written has taught me something I didn’t expect. Sometimes it’s about craft. Sometimes it’s about character. And sometimes it’s about theme.
I didn’t set out to write a story about connection. Or isolation. Or the ways we build walls around ourselves without realizing it. But somewhere between drafting a dinner scene, a sunrise canoe trip, and a letter from a father who never quite figured out how to show love, I realized that’s exactly what this book is about.
Themes are funny that way. You don’t always see them coming. You start with a character and a situation and a spark of an idea and a title that makes you laugh—so you plug it in as a placeholder—and then somewhere along the way, the characters poke you and say, “By the way, this is what my story is really about.”
A few weeks ago, I wrote a chapter where Tara in Exactly What It Looks Like reads a letter from her father—a man she’s spent most of her life believing was distant and uninterested. The letter complicates everything she thought she knew. It doesn’t magically fix anything, but it shakes her a bit, giving her a new perspective on their relationship. And as I wrote it, I realized I was exploring something bigger than the plot.
I was writing about the ways we become islands.
We drift. Protect ourselves. Convince ourselves we’re safer alone. Forget that connection is something we have to choose, not something that just happens.
And then, in the next chapter, I wrote a scene where she’s in a canoe surrounded by strangers, paddling in rhythm with people she’s never spoken to. It’s quiet, meditative, and communal. And it hit me: this is the counterpoint. This is the moment where she realizes she doesn’t have to be an island, like her dad, unless she chooses to be.
I didn’t plan that. The idea just popped in.
That’s the magic of theme. It sneaks up on you. It reveals itself in the spaces between plot points and shows up in metaphors you didn’t realize you were writing till they’re on the page. It threads itself through the choices a character makes until you suddenly see the pattern.
Once Tara smacked me around and told me what this book is really about, I leaned into it, weaving it into more scenes and realizations like a soft echo. It ended up being one of the big wishes that Tara’s dad has for her, that she can connect with others, meet them halfway, and not learn the lesson the hard way, the way he had.
Discovering the heart of the story Exactly What It Looks Like ended up being a big moment in my writing journey because it helped me shape the rest of what I was doing. And whenever this happens, it’s always one of my favorite parts of the process.
I’m excited for this book’s June launch!