First Draft Finished

What if the time loop wasn’t just a loop, but a refrain?

A moment caught in repetition—not just trapped in time, but bound to a melody, played again and again, as if the universe itself were following a score. But what happens when a note enters that doesn’t belong? When something disrupts the harmony?

That’s the idea behind my first book, Discord in Middle C. It’s a story about cycles, imperfection, and the nature of a song that won’t end. More importantly, it’s about what happens when someone—when you—are the discordant note in a melody that refuses to change.

When I first started writing this book, I wasn’t thinking about music. Not in the way it eventually took shape. But as I wrote, I kept coming back to the idea of structure—the way songs build, repeat, evolve, and sometimes resist resolution. A loop is a form of repetition, but a refrain is something deeper. A loop is a cage. A refrain is a pattern. And patterns, if disrupted, can break.

Middle C started as a book about a man who avoided death completely by accident. Simple enough. But as I kept writing, something strange began to emerge from the story.

The narrator took on a life of their own. They weren’t just telling the story—they were performing it, addressing the reader in a way that was both hilarious and deeply unsettling. A voice I hadn’t planned for, hadn’t expected, but one that refused to be ignored.

What do you do when the story refuses to bend? When it insists on becoming something else?

That’s when I realized Middle C wasn’t just about avoiding death. It wasn’t just about a time loop. It was about music, dissonance, and what happens when you’re the wrong note in a song that won’t stop playing.

Now, I’m deep in the editing process—polishing, refining, and chipping away at its rough edges.

In the end, my hope is that Discord in Middle C will resonate. That its notes will linger. That its song will stay with you.