Latter-day Psychosis Has a Release Date

It has been a couple of weeks since I wrote here. Life has been full in mostly good ways: painting, working, preparing for some travel, navigating oil changes and tire crises, and slowly shifting from the enormous task of writing a book to the entirely different one of bringing it into the world.

So, an actual update: Latter-day Psychosis is planned for release on November 17, 2026.

Even typing that feels strange.

For years, this book existed as fragments. Memories, old journal entries, scenes I could not stop thinking about, and a private hope that I might someday shape it all into something coherent. Then it became a manuscript. Now editing is complete, production is in motion, and the book has a real date attached to it.

There is still plenty of work between here and November. A finished manuscript does not magically transform itself into a book while I wander into the woods and paint moths, unfortunately. But the finish line is visible now.

Latter-day Psychosis follows my experiences with religious fear, mental collapse, addiction, recovery, and the long process of rebuilding a life that felt like my own. It is a story about what happens when the beliefs and identities that once held your world together begin to collapse. It’s also about the imperfect, nonlinear work of finding your way back to yourself.

It is deeply personal, but I hope it also speaks to people whose lives look nothing like mine: anyone who has had to reconsider the story they were given about themselves, lived through a version of their life ending before they were ready, or discovered that recovery is not a clean upward line, but a long accumulation of choices, setbacks, and ordinary days.

Over the next few months, I plan to share more of the process here: occasional excerpts, behind-the-scenes glimpses of production, and stories that did not make it into the final manuscript.

But my blog will stay bigger than one book. There will still be paintings, experiments, works in progress, ordinary life, and, obviously, sausage dogs.

The book matters enormously to me, and part of honoring that is talking about it without apologizing for taking up space. At the same time, I want what I share to be an honest record of what it takes to bring a difficult story into public view, not endless reminders that a product exists.

I am proud of this book. I am nervous about releasing it. I am excited, a little overwhelmed, and still adjusting to the fact that something so private is preparing to have a life outside of me.

November feels both close and impossibly far away.

The book is no longer only something I spent years trying to finish. It is something preparing to meet its readers.

Thank you to anyone already following along.