There are moments in the year when everything seems to slow down.
Lights turn on earlier, the cold invites us to stay indoors, and without quite realizing it, we begin to look back.
Christmas has that effect: it gently forces us to pause.
And today I want to take advantage of this special quiet at the end of the year to write to you without haste, without promotion, and without artifice. Just to say thank you.
Thank you for reading, for feeling, and for staying
This year has been, in many ways, extraordinary.
Not only because of numbers, sales, or visible achievements — which matter too — but because of something far more difficult to measure:
the messages, the reviews, the emails, the words from readers who have said “this story stayed with me”, “it made me remember”, or “it helped me feel.”
For a writer, there is no greater gift.
Every reader who chooses to spend a few hours inside a novel is someone who trusts.
They trust their time, their emotions, their memories.
And that is no small thing.
Stories born from what was never fully said
Many of the stories I write are born from silences.
From what was never spoken aloud, from what was only half-lived, from what was kept hidden because “that wasn’t talked about.”
Perhaps that is why Christmas feels so closely tied to these novels.
Because it is also a time of grandparents, of humble tables, of memories that return unannounced.
Of looking back and understanding that, even in difficult years, there was love, there was dignity, and there were promises that were never entirely broken.
If any of my novels has made you feel something like that, then everything has been worth it.
A shared year deserves to be celebrated
None of this would have been possible without you.
Without those who recommend a book to someone they love.
Without those who leave a review when no one asks them to.
Without those who arrive for the first time… and those who choose to stay.
This year has not been mine alone.
It has been ours.
And that is something I never want to take for granted.
Looking toward the new year with calm… and anticipation
The coming year will bring new stories.
New settings, new characters, new wounds, and new ways of loving.
Novels that are already quietly taking shape, waiting for their moment, as good stories always do.
I am in no hurry.
I prefer them to arrive when they are ready, the way truly important things do.
I can only promise you what I always do: respect for the reader, love for the story, and care for every single word.
For these days
I hope these holidays give you rest.
I hope there is a long-overdue conversation that finally happens.
I hope you find a moment to read without watching the clock.
And if you choose to spend that time accompanied by one of my stories, believe me: it will be an honor.
Thank you for being there.
Thank you for such a beautiful year.
And thank you, from the heart, for continuing to walk with me into the next one.
Happy holidays.
Merry Christmas.
And may the new year find us with stories worth telling.
— Elias Wrenford