Dear Reader,

Stephanie Mack is an author with a passion for storytelling–on the page, on the mic, and beyond. Her novels blend women’s fiction and romantic elements with meaningful insights for readers navigating the complexities of modern life. Stephanie lives in Orange County, California, with her husband, three daughters, and beloved mini Bernedoodle. Her new novel is Twenty Something Else: On the eve of her fortieth birthday, a woman wakes up from a pickleball accident with the unexpected chance to relive her twenties in this sparkling novel from a fresh, new voice.

Reach out to Stephanie via https://www.stephaniemack.com/contact

Welcome to the book club Stephanie…

The Finish Line Fantasy

For most of my life, I believed that finish lines were just that:

The end.

Final. Check. Medal me!

Then I became a mother, a novelist, and a runner–and I learned that most finish lines are actually just sneaky start lines in artful disguises. You cross one threshold–sweaty, emotional, proud–only to find another road waiting.

Motherhood taught me this first.

When my daughters were babies, I kept waiting to “arrive” somewhere. Surely once they slept through the night, we’d be done with the hard part. No? Okay. Then once diapers ended or kindergarten started, I’d finally reach some magical summit of parental competence.

Instead, every milestone has quietly handed me a brand-new version of motherhood with updated rules. One minute you’re sweeping up Goldfish crumbs; the next you’re having deep conversations about friendships, confidence, boys, Sephora, and cell phones.

Writing novels feels eerily similar.

For years, becoming a published author was my dream. The ultimate finish line! It is a milestone I’m celebrating with my whole heart–don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I imagined myself dramatically typing THE END, signing a book deal, and forever floating peacefully into literary bliss surrounded by eager readers and endless inspiration.

Instead, author life looks more like this: You type THE END. Then you revise. Revise again. Then comes impostor syndrome, sharing the manuscript, more revisions, and finally the terrifying prospect of releasing your book into the world while trying to dream up another one. Don’t get me started on marketing. Publishing is really less a finish line and more a moving sidewalk inside an airport.

And then, of course, there is running.

You train for months for a race. Imagine the marathon. Prep the playlist. Envision the crowds! The medal. Then you finally cross that finish line–thrilled, exhausted, delirious–only for someone to ask, “So what race are you running next?”

I’m claiming it: finish lines are both important and also a fantasy. They aren’t endings so much as markers along the way. Reminders to stop, lift your face to the sky, and acknowledge how far you’ve come–before continuing onward again.

We’re remarkably hopeful creatures. We survive hard seasons, accomplish big goals, and instead of stopping, we keep lacing up for what’s next.

I turned forty this year, and I’m finally beginning to understand that life was never meant to define itself by arrival. The beauty is in the becoming. In the learning, the middle, the miles.

Finished? Maybe not.

Winning?

You bet.

— Stephanie Mack
https://www.stephaniemack.com/contact

Thanks for reading with me. It’s so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com