Every holiday season reminds me that family gatherings exist for two reasons: food, and unintentionally gifting writers enough story material to last until next December (ha). But seriously, if you’re a writer attending a holiday gathering and you aren’t mentally filing material away for your next book, are you even doing the holidays right?  

​The holiday season has a way of heightening everything—joy, nostalgia, tension, longing, unresolved conflict, even the quiet griefs that typically stay tucked beneath the routines of daily life. Whether you’re writing fiction or memoir, December’s sparkle-and-shadow combination offers an irresistible creative entry point into family drama. People are gathering. Traditions return. Old wounds test their bandages. And amid the glow of twinkle lights, characters (including ourselves) often reveal who they are with startling clarity.

Magical realism has long held a shimmering corner of the literary world—a place where wonder slips quietly into the everyday, and where the impossible is treated not as spectacle but as truth. Writers who step into this space discover a genre that invites subtlety, metaphor, cultural resonance, and emotional depth. It’s a space where magic isn’t a disruption but a companion; where characters don’t gasp when miracles occur, because the world has always held more beneath its surface than logic can explain.

Supernatural fiction has always lived at the crossroads of what we know and what we feel. It’s the place where everyday life brushes against the impossible—where ghosts linger at the edges of our grief, where witches navigate both spellcraft and the PTA, where a mysterious stranger at the bar may literally be older than civilization.

It’s a genre packed with possibility, and it shares deep creative DNA with magical realism: both bend the rules of the natural world to illuminate something true about the human experience. Yet supernatural fiction brings a deliciously heightened sense of stakes, power, danger, and transformation—which is why so many readers flock to it when they want drama with emotional punch.

Like many 80s and 90s kids with a flashlight and an overactive imagination, I was obsessed with Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. Those eerie black-and-white illustrations by Stephen Gammell were nightmare fuel in the best way—and Alvin Schwartz’s simple, rhythmic prose made every story feel like something whispered at a slumber party you shouldn’t have attended. What struck me then, even before I understood it, was how those stories worked on both the mind and the body: the suspenseful pauses, the perfect pacing, the way dread coiled tighter with every page until you were both terrified and thrilled. That book taught me early on that fear, when crafted well, isn’t just about what happens—it’s about how it feels. It made me fall in love with horror as an art form, long before I ever thought about writing or editing it myself.

For writers exploring how to publish a book, the publishing landscape has never been more open—or more overwhelming. Since Amazon revolutionized the industry with Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) in 2007, the book publishing landscape has evolved at breakneck speed, and self-publishing has become one of the biggest forces shaping how authors produce and distribute books. In recent years, the number of independently published titles has skyrocketed: in 2023 alone, more than 2.6 million self-published books were released in the United States, while traditionally published titles numbered around 563,000 (Publishers Weekly)—a clear sign of how prolific independent authors have become.

Back in grad school—many moons ago (ha), one of my creative writing professors regularly shared his unpublished work with our class. When a student once asked if he worried about someone stealing his writing, he laughed and said, “Steal it, please. And if you can get anyone to pay for it, tell me how you did it.”

At the time, I didn’t fully understand what he meant. Years later, after my own work was published, I realized the truth behind his words: writing a book is only half the climb. Getting readers to actually buy it is like scaling Everest after you’ve already conquered K2. And if you want to build a loyal readership, you need your own authentic voice—something no one can fake or sustain if it’s stolen.

As if sharing early drafts of a manuscript isn’t hard enough, authors also have to worry about theft and copyright infringement. Fortunately, theft of a manuscript isn’t as common as one may think, but it still happens occasionally, and those stories spread through the writing community like wildfire, so I often have writers ask me if they should ask their beta readers to sign a non-disclosure agreement (NDA). On the surface, it might seem like the safest way to protect your work, but the answer is a little more nuanced.

You did it—you finished your manuscript! That’s a huge milestone, and you deserve to pause and celebrate. Writing a book that shares your knowledge, story, or perspective is no small task. After you've taken a moment to celebrate, comes the stage that may feel less glamorous but just as important: self-editing. This is where you refine your ideas, shape your message, and give your book its final shine—the polish that helps your words land clearly and confidently with readers. It can feel daunting, but with a little strategy (and a lot of patience), self-editing doesn’t have to drain your energy or blur your focus. In fact, it can bring you even closer to the heart of what you want your book to say.

​Coming from my background in traditional publishing, venturing into indie-publishing felt rebellious and exciting. Little is more empowering for a creative than giving the bean counters (trad publishers and their form-letter rejections) the middle finger by taking the reins of your own publishing journey and riding off into the sunset. Unfortunately, the morning after realization of how many hats a self-published author must wear can feel like waking up with a hangover. But the editing hat shouldn’t be a burden you bear alone! While you might not have a full editorial department behind you, you can craft an editing and proofreading process that’s surprisingly close to the flow of a traditional publisher. 

You’ve polished your draft, finished a self-edit, and now you’re ready for fresh eyes. Enter beta readers: trusted readers who can preview the story with fresh eyes and give feedback for improvement before it goes to editors or agents or is released to the public. Beta readers can help you catch plot holes, confusing character choices, flat dialogue, or pacing issues. But how you find beta readers, guide them, and process their feedback makes all the difference.

Here’s how to make the most of your beta reader experience: