The Lantern I Carry: A Note from the Writer

“Even in haunted halls, there are quiet corners meant for healing.”

Lately, the ink in my pen has felt different.

Still dark, still a little eerie, but touched with something gentler. Something slower. Maybe it’s the shift in season. Maybe it’s the aftermath of quiet heartbreaks. Or maybe it’s just the natural tide of being a writer with a soul that listens when the wind changes.

For the month of May, I’m stepping slightly off the beaten path—the one lined with shadowy figures and Gothic doorways—and wandering a quieter trail. Don’t worry, the horror hasn’t left me (It never truly does, does it?). But this time, the stories I’ll be telling are a bit more inward. Less blood, more heart. Less monster, more mirror.

This May is for reflection.

For stillness, questions, healing, and honest conversation. It’s for peeling back the curtain a little and letting you see the writer behind the words. The girl with ink on her fingers and a few bruises on her heart, who believes even ghosts have lessons to teach us.

I’ll still be sharing the eerie, the mysterious, and the moody. But I’ll also be sharing what haunts me and what helps me heal. I’ll be posting a bit more of my heart this month than I’ve typically been doing, so watch out.

If you’re walking through something right now—grief, confusion, uncertainty—maybe we can sit together in the dark a while. Maybe our shadows can keep each other company.

Thanks for being here. I’m glad you are.

With candlelight and quiet courage,
Abigail

“Sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is name the ghost and offer it tea.”