I have a confession to make.
I released a book last year and forgot to tell most of you.
Okay, maybe “forgot” isn’t quite the right word. I knew perfectly well that The Summer We Fell had been published. I just wasn’t doing a particularly good job of being an author at the time.
When I moved back to Sydney after more than a decade in Türkiye, I thought the adjustment would be difficult. What I wasn’t prepared for was just how much I would miss Mersin.
Not in a holiday sort of way, either.
I missed the everyday things. The friends I’d made. The routines I’d built. The familiarity of walking down the street and knowing exactly where I was. I missed speaking Turkish badly. I missed sitting by the sea. I missed having a life that felt settled.
Coming back to Sydney felt strange because it was home, but it didn’t quite feel like home anymore.
Looking back, I can see I was more than a little depressed. Writing, which had always been the thing I turned to when life got complicated, suddenly became difficult. Publishing a book felt even harder. The idea of marketing that book felt impossible.
So when The Summer We Fell was finally released, I did what every author is told not to do.
Absolutely nothing.
No big launch. No countdown. No social media blitz. I uploaded the book, told a handful of people and then largely pretended the whole thing hadn’t happened.
Which is a shame, because I genuinely love this story.
The Summer We Fell follows Lale Morgan, an Australian teenager who discovers her biological father lives in Türkiye. What starts as a trip to meet family turns into a summer that changes everything. There’s romance, heartbreak, family drama, beautiful Turkish settings and enough emotion to keep you turning the pages. It’s one of those stories that stayed with me long after I’d finished writing it.
In many ways, I think the book reflects a lot of what I was feeling myself. The idea of belonging to more than one place. Missing somewhere that feels like home. Trying to work out where you fit when your life has changed.
As for me, yes, I’m still writing.
Despite the occasional existential crisis.
Despite regularly threatening to give it all up and become a lady who spends her days watching Turkish dramas instead.
I’ve got another book in the Spicy Ginger Martini series sitting on my computer, waiting patiently for its turn. I’ve also been working on a new series called Istanbul Book Club, which started life as a companion project and then decided it had bigger ambitions.
There’s also a standalone novel set in Sydney called This Is Not a Love Story.
Which, despite the title, might actually be a love story.
I’m still working up the courage to publish that one.
For now, though, I wanted to pop my head up and let you know that I’m still here. I’m still writing, still learning and still trying to tell the best stories I can.
And if you’re one of the lucky people reading this from a sunbed somewhere in Türkiye, perhaps with a cold drink in hand and the Mediterranean sparkling nearby, I’d love you to take a look at The Summer We Fell because you’re going to love it.
After all, I may have done a terrible job of telling people it existed.
And it deserves better than that.
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Did you know that Janey in Mersin was named one of the Top 20 expat blogs in Türkiye by Feedspot? Ch-ch-check it out here!
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