Why I Chose to Write a 230,000-Word Debut (and Stand By It)

When I finished writing Breath of Starlight, it was over 400,000 words. I didn’t really flinch. As I’ve said before, I grew up on big books — the kind that barely fit into my backpack between algebra worksheets and cafeteria lunches. Now I was writing one of my own.

I began to prepare for querying, and my research led me to what’s called “market standard.” I won’t go into detail. Let’s just say the number was nowhere near the manuscript I was sitting on.

So, I made an incredibly difficult decision. I split the story in two and rebuilt the first half so it could stand alone, if it needed to. It was painful — like carving a single river out of a sea — but I did it. Because I believe in the dream of sharing this world.

When I first started querying Breath of Starlight, I knew the number alone — 230,000 — would make people balk. There were some days I’d stare at that count in the corner of my screen like it was a flashing warning light: too long, too risky, too much.

And maybe it is. But here’s the thing — this story was never small. And I’m not here to make it smaller just to be safe.

Because art isn’t always efficient.

Some stories need room to breathe — to unfold like constellations, not blueprints. Breath of Starlight isn’t long because I don’t understand restraint. It’s long because it’s layered — myth upon myth, breath upon breath. Because love, grief, faith, and defiance don’t fit neatly into a word count.

I understand the market. I respect the business. But I also believe that stories have their own pulse — and when you try to compress that heartbeat just to make it tidy, something vital gets lost.

So, yes. My book is long. But it’s the right length for the story it’s telling.

If you’re a writer standing in front of your own too-big dream — don’t shrink it to fit the door. Knock anyway. If it doesn’t open, build another.

Because wonder has weight. And sometimes, it takes every word to carry it.