Hello, dreamers. March is nearly over, and we’re entering the middle of spring. For me, this is generally decision time: at this point I’m starting to look ahead to the rest of the year, planning out my writing strategy. Submission and query windows are closing, and the summer “Dead Zone” looms right around the corner.

April tends to be the month in which I select my primary project for the year. As I wrap up my early-year short fiction period, I take stock of active novel projects and begin what I call “test writings”. But if I may, I’m going to get a little more personal than I usually get on these posts.

As may have been apparent from some of my recent “Writer’s Desk” posts, over the past few months I’ve experienced a sort of “Crisis of Faith”. By this time last year, I’d finished five short stories, all of which I felt very good about, two of which have since been picked up for publication. As of now, I’ve only completed two stories this year. It’s been hard not to compare my output so far to what I did in 2025. I began worrying that I’d peaked; that I’d run out of creative gas. That’s it, I thought. I’ll never be able to write again.

Obviously that’s a little melodramatic. But it was a hard feeling to shake. In perhaps the most ridiculous example of writer’s impostor syndrome, I became convinced I could never compete against…well, myself. As such, I began “pressing”.

That term is another of my baseball metaphors. In baseball, one of the hardest things to do is hit a home run. Sure, it looks like guys like Aaron Judge or Shohei Ohtani are always hitting them. But consider this: in a standard 162-game season, in which a player will typically have three or four at-bats per game and almost nobody plays ever game, thirty home runs is considered very good. Heck, twenty is pretty great. Most baseball players will tell you there’s really no way to know when a hit will become a home run until it happens. But sometimes that doesn’t stop players from trying very hard to hit a home run in every at-bat. That’s called pressing. And in one of life’s great ironies, arguably the best surefire way to keep from hitting home runs is to try really hard to hit one.

Over the past week, I realized that so far this year I’d been pressing. I went into every morning sketch believing that if it didn’t blossom into a complete story, it was a failure. And it had to be a good story, with deep meaning and rich setting and a twisting, turning plot that would keep readers guessing clear to the end.

Writing, as I keep saying, is not an exact science. Just like hitting home runs. And while I say that all the time, turns out even I don’t always believe it. I still try to force things to go the way I want to. It’s like trying to wrestle a waterfall and turn it into a gentle stream. So, over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten back to what I’ve always done with my sketches: I follow the words. I’ve gone into each morning with the sole intention of writing something intriguing. It doesn’t have to grow into a complete story. It can be a paragraph. A sentence. Just as long as it’s up to my current standards of prose.

This past week felt like the shot in the arm I sorely needed. Easing off the gas helped things start to flow again. What’s more, a member of my critique group took a look at the most recent story I completed. I’d thought it was a rambling, stuttering mess. But she loved it. She told me it was the best story she’d seen from me. And she’s read the story that won Writers of the Future.

At last, I feel myself emerging from this deep funk. I enter the heart of spring with a renewed confidence, eager to see what lies ahead. And with that, here’s what I’ll be up to this week:

Querying Seven Days on Samarkand

I received another rejection late this weekend, though this one was expected (it was a long shot). I still have five active queries, but at this point I have low confidence that I’ll hear back from them. Nonetheless, I plan to participate in the upcoming #PosterPit on April 18. Going back to last year, I established the custom of bookending (so to speak) each round of queries with a pitch event. As such, this event will mark the official end of my first query round this year.

As tends to be the case after an unsuccessful round of queries, I’ve been stepping back and looking at my overarching query strategy. This is, after all, the time of year when I begin choosing my novel project for the year. I knew going in that Seven Days on Samarkand would be a hard sell. And though I do not plan to abandon querying, I am once again looking ahead to another potential query-able novel.

Perhaps that’s why many of my recent sketches have dealt with oceans and marine biology. I still believe strongly in Aquarius 1. For better or worse, I do believe it’s a far more marketable novel in the current literary industry. As such, I’m currently leaning toward resuming work on Aquarius 1 rather than moving on to the planned sequel to SDoS. I will therefore be leaving my query materials as they are for now. Instead, I’ll be resuming research and worldbuilding for Aquarius 1. Over the coming weeks I’ll be reviewing what I’ve written so far, in preparation for test writings by late April. With any luck, by then I’ll be ready to dip my toes back into the endless ocean of Jann’s largest moon.

Short Fiction

Over the past three days, I found myself using my sketches to continue a single story. Last night, during my weekly review of short fiction projects, I finally united all the pieces in a single file. Today I’ll officially begin working on “When Darkness Covered the World”. The story is set within the overarching continuity of my short fiction series concept, The Drum. It’s been fun so far, and I already have a pretty clear idea of where it’s headed.

Beyond that, I still have four outstanding short fiction subs, none of which I expect to hear back on any time soon. My submission to Asimov’s is approaching the ninety-day mark, and I could conceivably hear back on it any day now. But if they’re truly interested in it (and I hope they are), I could have a solid month to go before I receive a response.

I’ve reached the point in the year when short fiction markets begin shutting down. As I’ve said before, while most of the larger markets remain technically open, at this point they’ve largely planned out their issues through the end of the year. Which means they’ll be less receptive to submissions, particularly of the length most of mine tend to be.

So, for now, my attention is turning to anthologies. There are new ones opening up constantly, and I plan to keep a closer eye on them this year. I have a lot of stories that have exhausted available magazine markets. It’d be great to see another of them in print.

Upcoming Content

I have officially launched my Substack: Martians and Lasers. If you haven’t already, head to Substack and subscribe here. It’s free, and you’ll get lots of cool content you won’t find here.

With my recent slow-down in writing, I’ve been casting a critical eye on my platform, as I try to do at least once every few months. And while I’m enjoying the slow buildup of readers on Substack, I feel I’ve sorely neglected this website. So, I’m considering putting up periodic “one-off” posts here. These posts would be of a more personal nature, giving readers a privileged glimpse into my mindset and where I am currently with my writing. Stay tuned.

For the time being, at least, I’ve decided to continue giving readers a schedule of my upcoming content here on this site. All upcoming posts will be available here unless otherwise noted. That said, here’s what you can expect from me in the week to come:

Friday: “Sci-Fi Reviewed: The Future of Star Trek“

Available on Substack

With the cancellation of Starfleet Academy, for the first time in over twenty years Star Trek finds itself at a crossroads. Check out this month’s “Sci-Fi Reviewed” post for a look at planned Trek projects in the works, and how likely each of them is to grace our screens in the coming years.

Sunday: “Dear Sir or Madam“

On Sunday, watch for my latest update on my querying journey, and learn what a “Yes” from an agent actually looks like.

It’s going to be another big week. So keep reading, and dare to dream. – MK