Writing in the In-Between: On Moving, Mourning, and Motivation

There’s something surreal about coming home after a long time away. The town looks familiar, but the rhythm of life has shifted. You’ve changed, too.

I recently moved back to Nebraska after several years of living in other places—working, writing, building a life that kept evolving. Coming back has been grounding in many ways, but it’s also stirred up a lot: old memories, questions about who I am now, and a creative rhythm that feels just a little out of tune.

Writing has always been my anchor. But even anchors shift when the tide changes.

Local bar in Ainsworth.

Lately, I’ve been revisiting a story that has haunted me, in both the best and worst ways, for over 15 years. Echoes of Us began after the death of my dad. It began as a means to process grief. Still, the story quickly evolved into something more: a post-apocalyptic horror novel that explores ghosts, survival, identity, and the desire to be seen and remembered.

I’ve carried this story through job changes, moves, heartbreaks, burnout, and healing. And now, as I unpack boxes and try to make sense of what I brought back with me, physically and emotionally, I’m editing Echoes of Us one last time before it goes off to the publisher’s editor. It’s both terrifying and liberating to be this close to sharing it with you.

At the same time, I’m learning to be patient with myself. Moving, especially as a queer, creative person with a tender heart, isn’t just about logistics. It’s about recalibrating who you are in a new or old place. And while I haven’t quite found my creative rhythm yet, I know it’ll come.

One sentence at a time. One deep breath at a time.

If you’re in an in-between space too, where things feel tender and unsure, I see you. The story will still be there when you're ready to write it. And you don’t have to do it alone.

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for continuing to walk this creative path with me.

—Arden