The Making of Arena of Ash

Behind the Inspiration, Challenges, and Triumphs of Writing a Finale Four Years in the Making

Writing a book is rarely a straight path. Writing a series finale—the kind that ties together years of plot threads, character arcs, and emotional promises—is like trekking through a storm with a hundred tiny voices in your ear reminding you of every decision you’ve ever made. Characters tapping you on the shoulder. Doubts whispering at your back. Deadlines looming like thunderclouds overhead.

And writing Arena of Ash, the fourth and final installment in the Rising Elements series, was exactly that kind of journey.

It was also the most meaningful creative experience of my life.

Today, I wanted to pull back the curtain and share the real story of how Arena of Ash came to be—its inspiration, the challenges that nearly stole my confidence, the triumphs that pushed me forward, and what it means to me to finally bring Everly’s story to a close.

This is the making of Arena of Ash.

The Spark: Wanting an Ending That Felt Truly Epic

Every series finale needs a heartbeat.

Before I wrote a single chapter, I knew one thing: this ending had to feel big. Not just plot-big—emotionally big. I wanted a final book that took everything the characters had been through and brought it to an explosive, visceral, earned conclusion.

The inspiration for Arena of Ash came from three core ideas that stayed with me from page one:

1. A final clash worthy of a four-book buildup

From the very first book, I knew Everly’s journey would one day collide with Asmodeus and all the forces that had shaped—and broken—her world. I didn’t want this to be a symbolic confrontation or a single, quick battle. I wanted an epic clash, the kind readers would feel in their bones, the kind that would change the world of Thios forever.

I pictured fire whipping in the wind. Steel meeting stone. Armies converging. The ground trembling beneath the weight of everything that had gone unsaid and unhealed.

From the get-go, that emotional and physical magnitude drove my vision for the book.

2. A war that felt real because the emotions were real

I didn’t want the battles to be just set pieces. I wanted them to mean something. Every strike, every moment of weakness, every surge of courage had to come from a deep emotional place for Everly, Shadow, and everyone else.

Everly has always been a character who feels deeply—love, loss, rage, hope. So every clash in this book had to be visceral, not just cinematic. Readers had to feel the sting of defeat, the weight of impossible choices, and the exhilaration of small, hard-won victories.

3. A heroine pushed to her limit—and beyond

Arena of Ash was always meant to be the book that stripped Everly down to her core. What does she believe about herself when everything is on the line? What does she stand for when there’s nothing left to lose?

As a writer, I felt a responsibility to give her a finale that honored everything she’d become, even if it meant taking her through hell.

That was the creative spark that ignited this book, but inspiration is the easy part. Writing it was where the real battle began.

The Challenge: Writing Through One of the Hardest Seasons of My Life

Every book comes with its own struggles, but Arena of Ash was born during a season full of massive changes in my life.

I wrote this book while navigating infertility, pregnancy, childbirth, and the emotional upheaval of postpartum life. I went through months where every piece of me felt stretched thin. And when you’re trying to write a sweeping fantasy war with high emotional stakes… it’s tough to be epic when you can barely keep your eyes open or remember where your laptop is.

Pregnancy Brain Meets Plot Twists

There were days I’d sit down to write a complex battle strategy or emotional confrontation and think, Wait… what did this character say three books ago? What is the name of that army? What year is it? Who am I?

Pregnancy brain is real. Writing a fantasy series with intricate magic and politics during that time was a special kind of challenge.

Birth and the Beautiful Chaos That Followed

Then came birth itself—and everything that comes after. Sleep deprivation. Hormones. The constant push and pull of wanting to be fully present for my new baby and also deeply longing to finish this story I had spent years pouring my heart into.

There was no “perfect window” for writing this book. I wrote in tiny pockets of time—naptime scraps, late-night hours, moments stolen between feedings.

Which leads me to the hardest part.

The Impostor Syndrome That Nearly Stopped Me

I’ve experienced impostor syndrome many times since I published my first book in 2020, but writing this finale magnified it tenfold.

There were moments (okay, months) when I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to close the story the way I envisioned. I worried readers would get to the end and think, Really? That’s what she came up with? I worried all my planning, all my heart, all the threads I’d tied through books one through three would unravel on the final stretch.

Finishing a series is intimidating on its own. Finishing one while juggling new motherhood and the highest emotional stakes I’ve ever written? Some days, it felt impossible.

But then something shifted.

The Turning Point: Buckling Down and Choosing to Believe in the Story

There came a day when I realized I had a choice. I could keep spiraling, doubting myself, and letting fear hold me captive…Or I could trust the story. Trust Everly. Trust the world I built. Trust the version of me who had crafted this series over four years.

So I buckled down. I wrote even on the days I felt like a shell of myself. I pushed through the impostor syndrome. And slowly, steadily, the book took shape.

Every time I finished a major scene—especially one of the emotional anchor scenes—I felt something unlock. This is it, I’d think. This is what the story wants to be.

It taught me something profound:Sometimes the most important thing you can do as a writer is simply keep going. Even when you don’t feel ready. Even when you’re scared. Even when you’re convinced you’ve ruined everything.

Arena of Ash was written one stubborn, exhausted, hopeful page at a time. And that, I think, is why the ending means so much to me.

The Triumph: Creating a Finale That Feels Like Saying Goodbye—and Saying Thank You

Finishing this book… honestly, it’s hard to put into words what it means.

Writing Arena of Ash felt like closing a door and opening another at the same time. It felt like watching Everly step into the person she was always meant to be. It felt like honoring the characters who have lived in my mind and heart for four years. It felt like ending a chapter of my life as much as hers.

This is more than just a book to me. It’s the culmination of:

• years of worldbuilding

• thousands of pages

• countless late nights

• dozens of plot twists

• mountains of emotional growth (for both me and my characters)

  
  

And the triumph wasn’t just finishing the book.It was finishing it well. Finishing it the way Everly deserved. Finishing it with all the fire, heart, and intensity I dreamed of when I first imagined this story.

I can look at Arena of Ash and say, without hesitation: Yes. This is the ending I wanted to give her.

What It Means to Close Everly’s Story

If you’re a longtime reader of the Rising Elements series, you know Everly isn’t the kind of heroine who walks an easy path.

She’s stubborn. Fiery. Loyal to a fault. Someone who feels deeply but doesn’t always know how to express it. Someone who’s been shaped by loss but refuses to be defined by it.

Closing her story meant giving her an ending that reflected all her complexity. It meant letting the battles be brutal, the emotions raw, the stakes sky-high. But it also meant giving her space to grow, to heal, to choose the kind of person she wants to become.

In many ways, finishing her arc felt like letting a daughter go. I’ve shepherded her through every heartbreak and every triumph, but now she gets to stand on her own—strong, changed, and fully realized.

If you read nothing else in this blog post, read this:

Everly’s ending is emotional. It’s cathartic. It’s devastating and hopeful all at once.

I didn’t just want to end her story. I wanted to honor it.

What Readers Can Expect in Arena of Ash

No spoilers, but here’s what you can expect from the final installment:

1. High-intensity battles

Not just big clashes—but intimate, character-driven ones. Battles that reveal who these characters really are.

2. Raw, unfiltered emotion

This book pulls no punches. Characters will break. They will rise. They will surprise you.

3. The destruction—and rebuilding—of hope

Arena of Ash pushes the characters to their limits, but it also allows space for resilience, for growth, for the spark of hope to survive even in ruin.

4. Answers to long-running questions

Threads you didn’t even remember from earlier books? Yes, they come back. And yes, they matter.

5. A bittersweet goodbye

Because endings always are. But it’s the good kind of bittersweet—the kind that lingers because it meant something.

Closing Thoughts: The Story Behind the Story

Writing Arena of Ash changed me.

It taught me that creativity can survive even the most chaotic seasons of life. It taught me that doubt doesn’t determine your destiny—your willingness to keep going does. And it taught me that sometimes the endings we’re most afraid to write become the ones we’re most proud of.

If you’ve been with Everly, Shadow, and the rest of the Rising Elements cast from the beginning—thank you. Truly. This finale is my gift back to you.

And if you’re just discovering the series now… welcome. You’re in for an incredible journey!

Arena of Ash is more than a finale.

It’s a reckoning. A restoration. A blaze of truth and courage and growth.

And I cannot wait for you to read it.