Time is spinning. Faster than truth. Faster than publishing. Faster than we can think.

Half the workforce is going gig—but writers? We were the prototype.

Now AI wants in, the rules are changing, and the question isn’t can you write…

It’s can you survive the revolution?

Create. Deliver. Disappear?

Time keeps spinning.

Lately? It feels like it’s whirling faster than any of us can keep up with.

I saw an article last week—data pulled from Statista and reported by Fast Company—that said by 2027, 86.5 million people in the United States will be freelancing, That’s over half the workforce.

Half.

Half of American workers won’t have a steady paycheck or dedicated pension. Half will be finishing one job while waiting and watching for the next.

Half will be part of what they call the “gig economy” . But as I look around. The gig isn’t just coming. It’s here.

As I chat with friends, I think we can commiserate. We are the original gig workers.

We write a thing—out of nothing but imagination, research, and discipline—and then we send it out into the world. Sometimes directly to readers. Sometimes to agents who sell it to publishers.

No matter the distribution, at the core, it’s the same model:

Create. Deliver. Hope it sells. Do it again.

Sound familiar?

Nonetheless, something feels different right now.

Time itself feels different.

It’s March 31st, and I swear January was just yesterday.

I was hawking Fire Sword and Sea- and folks don’t forget about it. I need your bookclubs to pick it up and discuss. We still need revolution.

The air of oppression is the only thing that’s not speeding up. Anxiety has us constantly scrolling, looking for endless updates, the noise—wars, prices rising and Druski sketches. People are stockpiling water. And everyone’s trying to figure out is it Ai or truth? Where do we get news from. Substack? YouTube? TikTok? If it’s IG how do you fit all in 60-second posts?

Everything is whirling, spinning faster.

And layered on top of that acceleration is AI.

What was supposed to be a technological revolution.

With Hachette pulling the novel Shy Girl from publication because of AI editing…

and New York Times parting ways with a Gig Book Reviewer —who used AI to help write a review that inadvertently borrowed elements of a Guardian review of “Watching Over Her” by Jean-Baptiste Andrea.

The AI revolution is feeling a little French, as in the French Revolution. It’s chaos with forces pushing to AI - I’m looking at you Grammarly and Microsoft Copilot, And other forces trying to shame you for em dash usage— it’s chaos.

Authors, like many other Gig workers are frightened.

Let’s just say it plainly.

Many of us have had our work scraped, borrowed, absorbed into systems we never consented to. And while companies like Anthropic have at least begun conversations around accountability and repair, the larger landscape still feels unsettled.

Unclear.

And very unstable.

But—life keeps moving.

So here we are, at the end of the first quarter, and I have to ask you—and myself:

Have you accomplished what you thought you would this year?

I’m sitting here thinking about everything that’s happened already with Fire Sword and Sea, how many of you made sure it wasn’t drowned out. They’re are more events happening. April 11th, Come to Conyers Book Festival. April 12th, meet Michigan at the Detroit Public Library. All my friends and GM buddies come on out.

You will never know how good it feels when readers show up.

There is joy in that.

Real joy.

And I’m grateful.

Truly.

But I would be lying if I said there wasn’t also fear, that the gig I love keeps evolving.

We are living in a time where storytelling itself feels contested.

There is pressure on what stories get told.

Pressure on whose histories are preserved.

Pressure on whose voices are amplified—or silenced.

And publishing, like every other industry, is trying to find its footing in shifting political, cultural, and economic ground.

Which means writers—especially emerging writers—are asking:

Is there space for me?

Will my story be welcomed?

Or will it be turned away before it ever has a chance to live?

I think about the next generation a lot.

Are they being nourished?

Are they being encouraged?

Or are they being pushed out by chaos, by confusion, and systems that don’t yet know how to hold onto them?

These stories don’t just disappear.

They get lost. And when they get lost, we lose pieces of ourselves.

So what does this all mean?

We’re back to where we started.

With the gig. And a marketplace that’s getting more crowded as we all become gig workers.

Writing has always been uncertain.

Always.

There has never been a guarantee that the next book sells. That the next contract comes. Or that markets will hold.

This isn’t new.

It’s intensified.

So what happens if the book gig dries up?

That’s a real fear I’ve been sitting with.

Luckily, I’ve done indie publishing and tech startups. I know what it means to build something from nothing. To pivot.

I’m working on my next book with my eyes on other lanes—screenwriting, content creation, serialized storytelling, digital platforms—those are new gigs that haven’t been fully explored.

But all this writing, book adjacent gigs require the same things:

Adaptability.

Speed.

Clarity.

And the AI that was supposed to save time, is out there with a wrecking ball.

All the noise is exhausting.

And I just want to write.

To sit with a story. To shape it. To honor it.

Not chase algorithms or decode platforms or constantly reposition myself in the marketplace.

To keep calm and carry on, I:

Find time for devotion.

Find time to learn something new.

Research questions and time periods and people that touch my heart.

I’m not so good at limiting scrolling.

But when I do I engage, I find trusted content creators.

And friends, I’m not bereft. Each day, something good always happens.

A reader posts.

A message comes through.

Someone is smiling, holding one of my books—or a book by one of my peers—talking about how it made them feel seen, understood, entertained, transformed.

And in that moment, I am the luckiest gig worker in the world.

This week’s book list is all about the hustle and the AI times.

Gigged – Sarah Kessler - A clear look at what gig work actually means—freedom vs. instability.

Sister Outsider – Audre Lorde - Why voice, truth, and storytelling are always political.

One and Done by Frederick Smith - One prime target for gig work, a consultant, and a university administrator try to find that forever thing, but might end up one and done.

And some Preorders:

Writer in Residence by Rhonda McKnight - A blocked writer retreats to the Lowcountry to reclaim her voice—and rewrite her future.