I have a confession that horrifies some of my writer friends: I always write the ending first. Not the final sentence necessarily, but the emotional destination — the feeling I want the reader to carry with them after they close the book.
For The Glass Meridian, I knew the ending before I knew the beginning. I had this image of Iris standing at the edge of the world, holding a map that was finally, beautifully complete. The whole novel was written toward that moment.
There’s a common misconception that writing should be purely organic — that you should follow the characters wherever they lead. And sometimes that works. But I’ve found that having a destination doesn’t limit freedom; it creates it. When you know where you’re going, you can take the most extraordinary detours.
Think of it like planning a road trip. If you know you’re heading to the coast, you have the freedom to stop at every interesting town along the way. But if you’re just driving with no destination, you might end up going in circles.