Elements of Revision: Time

Erin E. Adams

04 Jan 2026 — 3 min read

01/01/2026

I’m back in the woods. Both figuratively and literally. I’m at my mother’s house and I am finishing up the revisions of my second novel. I’m working on what I pray is a near end draft of ONE OF YOU. I pray it’s near the end because if JACKAL ate my sleep, ONE OF YOU is devouring my time.

I flinch at how judgmental that sounds, but it’s accurate. My debut thrived on my insomnia. My second novel demands long days and for me to pursue every single research rabbit hole that comes my way. All of the pots in my mind are set to simmer, no more no less. I don’t have a pub date that I can share, yet. I do have a book that carried me through a season of grief. And a book who’s double soul I carried through countless drafts. Now, it’s finally time for us to head home.

The end of the year contains its strangest days. No matter how I try to prepare myself I’m never really ready for the time that starts the morning of December 25th and carries on till 11:59pm December 31st. First, I always count it as five days, when it is, in fact, seven. Also, if I really pay attention, the feeling of strangeness starts on December 21st, the moment the nights contract and the days start to get longer. At least, we are told they get longer. I still feel like I’m cramming everything I need to do between slim daylight hours. Writing in this hang-time feels… odd, but right. It is a strange mix of too much time and not enough.

When you have too little, time writing feels like driving at night, on three hours of sleep, chewing on straws, to stay awake. When you have too much, it’s like frogging a once beloved knitting project, because it’s too far gone, and rewrapping the yarn to be used for something else. Every curve in the fibers reminds you of when you used too much tension because you were knitting during a movie, or when your stitches were loose because you were teaching yourself the pattern.

Which brings us back to the woods. Always the woods. I can’t get away from them. I grew up in them. I was afraid of them. Now I crave them. I walk in them nearly every day with my puppy, Milo. I walked them anytime I was home with my dog, Thisbe. No matter what, I’m back in the woods. But now I can see the path ahead clearly. My legs itch to start running (winter ice be damned!). The felled trees have been cleared from paths, the river has receded for the season, the branches are bare…

Time will change that.

In this dance between too much and too little, I’ve found the stride I need to get out of the woods. Soon it will be time to make exciting announcements and set dates and schedule delightful things, but at this point in my process, I invite you to stand in the trees with me, poised, and ready to run.

Happy New Year.

Love,

Updates…

I am starting to make a list for ARCs, when they are available. Booksellers, librarians, podcasts/platforms, early reviewers, cheerleaders, if you want in, drop me a line! The earliest anything is going into motion would be the fall of this year.