Trauma.
The “new year” has come and gone, but it still feels “new,” doesn’t it? At least that’s how it feels to me. And technically, when you look at it chronologically—based on 365 days—it is still new.
But as we move through these next few days and we are one year out from the January 7, 2025 fires that impacted the Pacific Palisades, Altadena, and my home city of Pasadena, I can’t help but reflect on how much has changed. This time a year later, we’ve been inundated with rain—storm after storm—everything saturated and green. The idea that just a year ago we were bone dry, that the conditions even existed for those fires to happen, still blows my mind. Not just how different the landscape looks now, but how different life feels.
Those fires were straight-up traumatic.
All I can say is that the levels of trauma they caused to those impacted were profound. I’ve always joked that I’m kind of an expert on trauma, because I’ve had some pretty shitty things happen in my life—severe losses. And yet, is trauma measurable? Yeah, I think it is. Ask the folks who lost their homes or family members for that matter. But trauma plays out differently for everyone. The same event can land in completely different ways. That’s why it intrigues me to write about it.
Anyway—I don’t mean to start the new year off so glum. But this new year can’t come without reflection. And not just reflection on the fires, but for me, other changes that have happened in my life over the past year—many of which have nothing to do with the fires. In a lot of ways, I feel like spirit has swiftly kicked me in the ass to make changes that were long overdue.
One of those changes is focusing as much time as I can on finishing my novel. And you know what? I’m pretty damn close to that finish line. But in the world of writing novels and books, the finish line isn’t when you write The End. It’s when it lands on a bookshelf and into the hands of someone willing to read it. There’s a whole lot that happens in between finishing and publishing.
I can honestly say that I am so joyfully, stunningly happy when I’m writing—it feels like home. Even though at the core of my current novel is trauma. Hey, they always say…write what you know.
I can’t wait to share the book with you someday. Probably a year or two from now, when it hits bookshelves. Because this time, I want it printed wide and far, through a big publisher. Let’s all dream big, baby! For whatever your desires are!
Btw, I do love my memoir-my first released book. Can you believe it was self-published three years ago already? You can still get it on Amazon—and the audiobook on Audible! But this time around, for the novel, let’s bring in the big guns.
Maybe that’s what this “newness” actually is—not a clean slate, but the willingness to keep moving forward while acknowledging what came before.
I hope you’re starting this year with reflection and positive steps forward—whatever that may mean for you.
And if you happen to know any big-shot literary agents looking for a fresh psychological thriller…give ‘em my name. I gotta get to that big publisher somehow!
And here’s the book synopsis just to give you a first taste:
In Everything We Lost in the Middle, Gabby is a Los Angeles crime-scene analyst still shaped by the car accident that killed her parents when she was a teenager. As old traumas resurface and family secrets unravel, her carefully contained life fractures—entangled with the pull of a mysterious photographer and the undeniable feelings of a coworker, both pressing her toward truths she’s avoided.
Copyright 2026, Laurie Markvart
Laurie Markvart's Diary 