March Read Along: The Bone of Who We Are


And so the series comes full circle with Gabe’s story The Bones of Who We Are. I am reading this final installment of the Cantos Chronicles along with other readers on Instagram this month (you are welcome to join us!). Gabe’s story is a difficult one (check the trigger warnings).

Here’s the blurb:

Gabe Daniels always figured his DNA is flawed. One only has to look to his past to see it, and it's why he’s tried to hide it in new layers of his life: his new home, his adoptive parents, Seth, Abby. But darkness is always at his heels. With the impending death of his former best friend - a death for which he feels responsible -  the depression, the broken relationships, the day-to-day struggle, and the monster trying to break out of him have left a debris field in his wake. Gabe decides the broken past that made him was always going to lead him down the road of no return. It is in his DNA, after all, in the biological parents who made him. 

I’m putting together an exclusive The Bones of Who We Are book box for one participant who posts and tags me—one entry for every post. The recipient will be notified April 1 (and it won’t be an April Fool’s).

Here’s the schedule:

Join us!

Cantos Love: Gabe

I just recently returned from a trip home… my first home, I should say, Oregon. It was a visit with family. reconnecting with many people I hadn’t seen in years. The trip made me think of Gabe, of The Bones of Who We Are and his mental and emotional journey back in time. (Definitely check the trigger warnings if you dive into that book). There’s a saying that “you can’t go home” again… and maybe that’s true in the sense when you do return home you are changed . . . but I do think there is power in returning home—just like any hero’s journey and the return with the elixir (in this case knowledge and experience).

As I write this—March 21—it’s Gabe’s birthday—and I’m on an airplane returning to my new home. I am getting ready to dive into the next newsletter installment of The Wedding Assignment (in which he returns with everyone else from The Cantos Chronicles). I’m having a lot of fun writing these characters as adults, but you can only read it in the newsletter.

Want to read more Gabe?

Here’s a link to the letters (his is included here).

Here’s a bunch of posts I put together when I first marketed this story (the cover is different!)

An aesthetic

5 Thinks to Know About Gabe and 5 More Facts and 5 Reason Gabe thinks he’s a monster

The Story and Different Kinds of Love

Teens and Depression and Gabe

Gabe and Poetry

Cantos Love: A Month of Cantos

It’s Cantos Month!  Three years ago this month, The Cantos Chronicles were rereleased with their new covers! 

And last year, The Messy Truth About Love came out, adding to the Cantos World.

Did you know that I’m writing a serialized story in my newsletter called The Wedding Assignment about Abby and Gabe? 

Want access to this story? Sign up for my newsletter. (sign up here)

I’m having a ton of fun, and to celebrate, I wanted to spend the month highlighting some fun bits about these books from reader thoughts to background fun. Be sure to comment and tell me what you’d like to know more about.

Cover Love

A book cover matters. Maybe that’s not a popular opinion. Sure, the blurb is also important, but the first thing I notice is the cover. I know we don’t want to think of ourselves as superficial, but let’s get honest about this; sight is the first sense we use to catalogue all kinds of information. It’s natural. It’s normal. So let’s forgive ourselves for saying that how something looks matters. It does. Especially a book cover.

So this is an embarrassing post, but I also think it’s important to showcase that it’s okay to make mistakes and learn from them too. This kind of transparency about my author’s journey serves to exemplify that I got it wrong, and though I’m initially embarrassed, I’m also kind of proud too. I was brave enough to take the risk, make mistakes, and learn from them. 

In a new author resource book I wrote called The Indie Author Book Planner: Navigating Indie Publishing to Establish Your Brand as an Author (officially releasing June 1), I talk a bit more about why I made the choice to rebrand the Cantos Chronicles. On Instagram, I’ve been showcasing the evolution of The Cantos Chronicles covers from my first jump into publishing to where they are today.  It’s been fun remembering Swimming Sideways and The Ugly Truth, and today reveals the evolution of The Bones of Who We Are. I threw in the change for The Letters She Left Behind too, for kicks.

I’m so excited and proud of the new book The Stories Stars Tell. And I love how the upcoming releases In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers connect aesthetically. Super cool how Sara Oliver made that happen. She’s a wonderful cover designer.

Here a few of my favorites covers I thought about off the top of my head. This isn’t an exhaustive list but I’ll start keeping track so I can do a fun cover post toward the end of the year. I also need to be honest about Wilder Girls; I DNFd the book (I made it through 100 pages and just couldn’t keep reading). BUT THAT COVER! Also, I couldn’t choose which Aurora Cycle Book Cover I liked best; all of them are gorgeous!

Writing In Between

I’m in The Fold of Ravka (and, yes, this is a plug for both the books and the Netflix series which is awesome). Why am I in the Fold? I’m in between writing books and am ducking Volcra trying to eat me as I try and find my way through the dark.

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I have all of these ideas: several new contemporaries, an adult romance, a dystopian idea (can’t work on the fantasy right now since it’s resting for the next eight weeks). I don’t know where to go. The thing is, I do this every time. I finish a book, then spin in the dark unsure what’s next, worried I’ve lost my way, and struggle with the doubt that I’ll ever be able to do it again. 

But somehow, I find the thread of light. I find my way through it and out the other side to write a new story. Not sure what’s next, but in the meantime, here’s a snippet of something I wrote while hanging out in the dark.

If you’ve read The Cantos Chronicles which starts with Swimming Sideways, you might recognize some of these names.


Something New…

I don’t need snow today, and it isn’t even the good kind. Instead it’s wet and slushy, sinking razor cold teeth into everything. Fitting really. I was prepared for the rain. Freaking Willamette Valley weather. I’m still getting into the swing of things after winter break. The swing of a new term, new classes. The swing of being single again, not that it’s much different than when Sebastian and I were together. Six weeks removed, and I’m seeing that more clearly, now. We’d been going through the motions as a couple, far longer than in the swing of two people truly in love, and I should have seen it but hadn’t until it was removed.

As I was walking out the door of my apartment to leave for work, he’d called. That was not in the swing of things. My axis, which had finally regulated, tilted more than I cared to admit.

“I’m just checking in on you,” he’d said.

I could picture him sitting at the desk in his bedroom at his own apartment running a finger along the edge like he often did when he was on the phone. His bedroom barely controlled chaos behind him. His curly dark hair in need of a trim. I didn’t like that I could picture him with clarity still. 

“That isn’t your job,” I’d answered as I checked the locked door of my apartment, then started down the sidewalk to my car, annoyed at the intrusion but also conflicted by it. I thought I’d been in love with him. I thought he was probably the one, then I got the We should talk followed up with him dating a new girl a week after that talk.  Nine months together, most of them pleasant, the comfort of sliding back into an easy pattern of behavior that feels safe and secure is tempting. “Why are you calling?”

“I just–” he’d paused as though weighing and measuring the impact of his words. This was a usual Sebastian speech pattern, as though he hooded his words, himself, in the guise of how he said something to make me feel complacent but equally unsure.  “I know the anniversary is coming up, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

I had a fleeting thought that maybe he’d been planning on saying something different, but then settled on what I’d heard. I dismissed the doubt. My normal pattern of behavior where he was concerned. What he’d asked was more endearing than holding onto any negative thoughts about his intentions. “I’m going home. I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

I’d climbed into my car, phone pressed to my ear with my shoulder holding it in place. Once inside the car, I’d started it, the phone switching to bluetooth, and I sat there, waiting for the car to warm up but also for him to say something else. The silence between us stretched into awkward territory. 

“Was that–” I’d started.

“I miss you,” He’d said at the same time.

“I’m not sure what to make of that.” My heart stalled in my chest, frozen in suspended animation awaiting something to bring it back to life. Being with Sebastian was so easy, yet he’d moved on way easier than me. I suspect it had started long before we actually parted ways. That hurts. The knowledge that I’d been so easy to replace slashed and burned the already broken parts of me. I was sitting in the car feeling like a hollowed out version of myself, and I wasn’t sure anything would ever feel normal again.

“I feel sort of lost,” he’d said. “And you always helped me figure myself out.”

My eyes had slipped closed. Always what I could do for him, just like my sister, Ruth, pointed out over the break. “He’s selfish,” she’d said. I’d opened my eyes back up and drove from the parking lot toward my job. “Sebastian. I can’t do this.”

“Hannah–”

“We’re over. Remember?”

His silence was confirmation enough.

I took a turn. “I can’t be your go to, Bash.”

“You’re right.”

I parked the car and sat back against the seat surprised by his admission. This was different for us. The swirls of us had mostly been the opposite, Sebastian maneuvering the conversation to where it was in his favor, and me capitulating. “I have to go to work.”

“Okay. Maybe I could call you later?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just to talk.”

I sighed. “Okay. Sure.”

We’d ended the call, and I sat in the car imagining myself the shape of a gooey heart where everything gets stuck inside the viscous jelly of my inability to set limits. I folded forward with my head on the steering wheel and bumped my head a couple of times with annoyance. Why couldn’t I just be stronger? Returning to rehash Sebastian even if that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about wasn’t good for me. It was good for him.

Now, I look up at the clock and hustle from my car. I need to get back into the swing of work, and because of that call, I’m running late for my shift. I hate being late; I hate letting anyone down.

 I rush through the doors at Hammerson Library, my eyes unfocused and replaying the conversation with Sebastian in my mind, and bump into someone hurrying out. The books in my arms flop out, falling to the ground in a syncopated succession of thuds. “Oh. I’m so sorry,” I say, and bend down to pick up the books which I don’t want to get wet. Shoot. Shoot. I’m going to be late.

“So sorry,” a deep voice says at the same time. “My fault. I wasn’t–” A familiar voice. Stalled now on his last word. “Hannah?”

I glance at a face I recognize. Warm amber eyes. A dimpled smile. 

A smile spreads across my face. “Seth! What are you doing here?” My smile won’t stop and communicates with the rest of my body that it needs to get involved in the joy. My heart hammers against my ribs. My face heats.  

He looks like high school Seth, but different. Older. Slightly crooked nose, mouth with perfectly proportional lips that cut adorable dimples into his cheeks when he smiles which he does now. Light brown hair—darker now— styled so that wavy locks stray across his forehead. He’s still taller than me.

My heart adds a hot hum of awareness in my chest. 

Because he’s my friend, I tell myself. One I haven’t seen him in a long time.




Character Speaks: Dear Paola, from Gabe

Dear Gabe,

I wish I could give you a hug that will make you feel all the love of the universe...all the love you deserve.

Love, Paola




Dear Paola,

I feel all that love. I feel it, now. Thank you. Your wish carries a promise of future benefits not only for me, but hopefully a pay-it-forward to anyone feeling like I once did. Your message needs to be shouted from rooftops and carried throughout the world because there are so many in need of it.

I remember when I didn’t understand that kind of love, and one of the sentiments of your note that stood out to me was “all the love of the universe”… I hope it’s okay because it inspired me to write a poem. So, for you, Paola:

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Constellations

By Gabe Daniels

We are stars,

Swallowed by bruises,

Hidden in fractured hearts and lonely thoughts,

But shooting stars 

Trailing stardust

Leave guiding paths to light a way.

We venture across the purple-blue sky—

Tentative—

Finding other stars 

Burning bright, reaching

Arms filled with Light and Love.


Though a bruised sky swallows

A single star,

Together, a constellation, 

Shines love to divide

The purple-blue sky.

And the Sun rises.


Thank you so much for your Inspiration and warmest regards,

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