The Story Is Taking Shape
Writing and posting the Daily Dose of Fiction on Substack and Facebook has been fun. But as I continue drafting new material, I’ve started asking a bigger question: Where does this all fit in the larger story I’m telling?
It turns out, writing these short, seemingly standalone tales doesn’t feel as “standalone” as I expected. My organized brain doesn’t love the idea of scattering 100–150 word vignettes into the wind. It wants a thread to follow. Maybe you do too.
And just a sidebar: it’s Tuesday and I haven’t sent you a chapter or anything. I’m between projects—sort of.
I’ve started Book 2, Mirage of Trust. Much of it was originally drafted to be the first book in Women of the Canyon.
But, Whispers of Echo Canyon had to come first. While complete in serial form, it still needs some final edits and additions before it’s ready for publication.
Have I let you down?
After eight months of sending chapters or Interludes every week, I feel like I’m letting you down by pausing.
So instead of leaving you with nothing, I’m offering you something different.
I’ve collected the first week of my Daily Dose of Fiction stories. They’re short but meaningful—and now, maybe not so random. I’ll be revisiting them to see if they form a thread. If you see something in them, I’d love to hear what stands out.
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 1
Was she running away from home—or her life?
Just shy of the ridge, she pulled to a stop. The blue sky opened above her, and she knew: this was the same peak she saw from deep in the valley.
Her mother never knew she ran this far. She never would.
Riley sat down, breathed in the sky.
She felt peace.
And wondered,
“Can I escape again tomorrow?”
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 2
Looking back, much of life was about escaping.
Which made no sense. Her family was solid. Her parents stayed together. No betrayals, no locked doors.
But Riley was always searching.
Not for safety—she had that.
For something else.
She used to sneak out after dinner, shoes in hand, just to feel the night air.
At thirteen, she’d walk alone to the library, pretending it was a quest.
She loved the woodshop with her dad—the hum of tools, the scent of cedar, the way he trusted her hands.
But even there, she found herself gazing out the window.
Still wanting more.
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 3
Architecture school wasn’t built for girls like her.
Not then. Not really.
They liked girls who followed rules. Drew within the lines.
Riley? She sketched in margins. Asked questions no one wanted to answer.
Why did homes look like boxes? Why couldn’t they breathe?
She didn’t want to mimic history. She wanted to shape futures.
One professor said, “You’ve got vision—but you’re a little much.”
Riley smiled.
He had no idea.
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 4
Her dad never told her to be careful.
Not in the shop. Not with her ideas.
He handed her tools like he trusted her.
“You don’t build a chair,” he once said. “You build how it feels to sit down.”
Riley was fourteen when she sketched her first house.
He looked at it, nodded, and said,
“Make sure it’s strong enough to hold someone’s whole life.”
She never forgot that.
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 5
She pulled on the hoodie. Faded, not stylish.
But it was hers. And that was enough today.
She gathered her drafting tools, finally ready to start the project she’d been avoiding.
A small studio cabin for her friend—just diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
How to make it safe and inspiring?
Maybe comfort is the kind of superpower she needed now.
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 6
Muddy shoes by the back door.
Most students designed for awards. Riley designed for real life.
While others chased sleek portfolios, she thought about…
Warm kitchens. Quiet corners.
“You’re too practical,” one instructor said.
Riley smiled. “That’s the point.”
Marisol, her childhood friend turned college ally, always had her back.
“They don’t get it,” she’d say. “But one day, they will.”
That spring, Riley submitted a design no one expected.
Not the tallest. Not the flashiest.
But the one everyone wanted to live in.
Daily Dose of Fiction – Day 7
Riley’s college degree became a finish line no one noticed.
No offers. No callbacks.
One firm said they “already had a woman.”
Another asked if she’d handle reception—just for now.
Riley didn’t argue. She just said no.
Then she and Marisol rented a storage unit.
Rolled out their sketches. Asked each other,
What if we don’t wait to be hired?
What if we build it ourselves?
No funding. No firm. Just an idea.
People called it bold. Naive.
But the truth?
They were already building.
Sketching by flashlight. Arguing. Creating.
Riley wasn’t waiting to be picked anymore.
She was picking herself.
And so it began.
🌟 For Conversation
These glimpses into Riley’s past are just that—glimpses. But even in short form, they reveal threads worth tugging.
👉 I’d love to hear from you:
What else do you want to know about Riley?
What questions are starting to form?
What scenes do you hope come next?
Your thoughts help shape how I continue her journey, from these fragments into the full story ahead.