Here's a confession that might shock you: Eowyn Ivey has published exactly three novels in thirteen years.

In today's publishing landscape, where authors are told to release books annually (or faster) to stay relevant, this pace seems career suicide.

Yet Ivey's "slow publishing" approach has created one of the most enviable author careers in literary fiction.

Picture this moment from Black Woods, Blue Sky: Birdie, a single mother with a six-year-old daughter, decides to move to an isolated mountain cabin. No electricity. No running water. No way to call for help. With a man she barely knows.

Yet we can’t stop reading.

This is the paradox of the unreliable narrator: characters make questionable (or terrible) decisions that we simultaneously hate and can't stop following.

In Black Woods, Blue Sky, Eowyn Ivey walks this tightrope masterfully, creating a story where mystical elements feel as natural as breathing.

Arthur, her enigmatic male lead, speaks strangely ("I am loving you"), disappears for days into the wilderness, and carries an air of the supernatural that's both alluring and unsettling.

Yet readers don't question it—they're utterly captivated.

I have a confession: Some of my best writing happens when I'm not writing at all. Last month, I was stuck on a blog post. I'd been staring at my screen for an hour, typing and deleting the same paragraph over and over. Finally, I gave up and went to wash dishes—something I usually consider a chore, a distraction, something I wish I didn’t have to do. But as I stood at the sink, watching soap bubbles swirl down the drain, my mind began to wander. I started thinking about how those bubbles were like the tiny, iridescent ideas. Then I imagined an author whose ideas literally appeared as soap bubbles around her head, and how she'd have to catch them before they popped...