The Glass Inkwell

Ghost tours are a funny thing. Everyone pretends they’re there ironically. For the history. For the vibes. For the camp. We insist we’re not scared even as we cluster closer together, listening a little too carefully, glancing over our shoulders when the guide’s voice drops. I went on mine at night, when St. Augustine feels like it’s holding its breath. Cobblestones slick with age and humidity. Streetlamps casting that specific kind of light that turns every shadow into a pos

"Discover the cozy mystery 'Murder at the Midsummer Feast' by J.P. White, now available on Amazon. Dive into a world of gothic vibes, small-town secrets, and a feast turned nightmare, available in both ebook and print." There is a very specific kind of joy that sneaks up on you while writing a book. Not the fireworks kind. More like the quiet hum you feel when the scene clicks, the characters stop arguing with you, and suddenly you are smiling at your screen like it just told

(And who would, without question, drag me into trouble with a smile.) There are fictional characters you admire , fictional characters you root for , and then there are fictional characters you just know—instinctively, cosmically—would absolutely enable your nonsense while also reminding you to hydrate. Those are my people. So today, let me introduce you to three cozy sleuths I would one hundred percent befriend in real life. I’m talking warm drink, rainy afternoon, wool-sock

There’s a particular kind of quiet magic that lives in late-night reruns. The soft hum of the TV, the glow flickering across a dark living room, and the crunch of cereal that was definitely more sugar than grain — these were the rituals of my childhood. That liminal time between homework and bedtime when the world softened at the edges and anything felt possible. When I sat cross-legged on the couch, remote in hand, letting fictional strangers teach me how to be human. Thes

Welcome to a Town That Probably Should Come With a Warning Label Every town has quirks. Mine has… more . The kind of “more” where the fog doesn’t simply roll in—it sweeps dramatically across the street like it has a main-character complex. Church bells chime at hours no church committee ever approved. And at least one cat is always perched on a wrought-iron railing, judging you with the withering disdain of a Victorian magistrate who’s deeply disappointed in your life choic

I’ve always been a storyteller — I just didn’t realize it until the universe grabbed me by the shoulders a few years ago and went, “Ma’am, look at your life choices.” If something happened to me, everyone within a five-mile radius was going to hear about it. With props. With reenactments. With the kind of sound effects usually reserved for action movie trailers. The dramatic recap of that one time I accidentally told the Dunkin’ Donuts cashier “I love you” after she told me

World-building and I were not always on speaking terms. For years, I wrote stories tucked safely inside modern-day Earth, where the biggest challenge was remembering whether Starbucks still sold that seasonal drink I’d mentioned in Chapter Two. But then The Obsidian Throne  came knocking—dramatic, magical, “surprise, we’re doing a whole new universe now”—and suddenly I had to build Nyverna from scratch. This was my first true leap into the unknown. And honestly? It was terrif

Okay, picture it. It's the summer of 2022. It's hot and the twentieth person has just come through the library doors and the first thing out of their mouth is "Whoo, it's hot out there."  And it was only 10:30 a.m. We open at 9. Yeah, it was gonna be a long day. So a coworker and I found ourselves randomly talking, and I said I wanted to do some National Novel Writing Month write-ins. This was obviously before NaNoWriMo became cancelled. Said coworker mentioned she'd never d

Join me on this magical journey of storytelling! What diverse voices are waiting to be uplifted in your heart? Let’s explore together!