A simple reset before committing to a long serialized story

For most of the second half of 2025, I drifted.

Not away from writing entirely. But away from fiction.

I was publishing non fiction posts. Reflecting on platforms. Promoting my book. Thinking strategically. Planning the next big thing.

And yet, something felt missing.

I was not living inside stories.

I knew I wanted to return to serialized fiction. I had the idea ready. The world was forming in my head. But I did not want to rush into another long arc and repeat old mistakes.

So instead of starting the serial immediately, I did something simple.

I decided to write five short stories.

Not random ones. Not disconnected experiments.

A small, intentional series.

Why a short story series?

At first, I thought I needed five strong plots.

Then I realized that was the wrong starting point.

Plots are endless. What matters is cohesion.

So instead of hunting for five separate ideas, I centered the series around a single theme.

I listed several themes that genuinely interested me:

• Power

• Guilt

• Mercy

• Redemption

• Survival

After sitting with them for a few days, one stood out.

Moments of Power.

Those brief, charged seconds when control shifts. When someone gains or loses influence. When a single decision changes the direction of a life.

That felt rich. Flexible. Emotional.

Once I had the theme, the ideas came more easily.

• A high stakes presidential visit where one choice alters national headlines.

• A young boy burdened by financial debt and a decision that defines his future.

• An Olympic athlete about to run the race of his life.

• A street musician whose quiet act of courage goes unnoticed by most.

• A confrontation that tests loyalty and pride.

Different worlds. Different characters. One shared thread.

Power, in its many forms.

The process

Each week followed a rhythm.

I outlined a story.

Wrote it.

Published it.

Read the reactions.

And then started the next.

There was no long runway. No over planning. No waiting for perfect conditions.

Just short, focused bursts of creation.

You can read the full series here:

Story 1: The Taj Mahal Visit

Story 2: The Last Share

Story 3: The Harmonium

Story 4: The Olympic Final

Story 5: The Statement

Why this approach worked

I did not expect this experiment to help me grow much.

But it did.

Here is why.

1. New world every week

Writing a short story is like visiting a new city.

New characters. New conflicts. New emotional terrain.

You enter, explore, and leave.

There is freedom in that. If something does not fully land, you learn and move on. The next week is a fresh canvas.

That creative reset is powerful.

2. Lower psychological pressure

Serial fiction carries weight. Once you begin, readers expect continuity.

Short stories are lighter.

You can experiment with voice. With pacing. With structure. Without worrying about maintaining a large narrative arc.

It allowed me to reconnect with storytelling without the burden of a long term promise.

3. Faster feedback loop

One of the unexpected benefits of publishing fiction publicly is immediacy.

Reader silence teaches you something.

A single thoughtful comment teaches you something.

A drop in open rate teaches you something.

With short stories, that learning cycle is compressed.

You write. You publish. You observe. You adjust.

By the third story, I was already tightening openings. Increasing narrative momentum. Ending more sharply.

The improvement felt tangible.

4. Creative stamina

Perhaps most importantly, short bursts of focused creativity rebuilt my stamina.

Instead of thinking in months, I thought in weeks.

Instead of worrying about a 40,000 word arc, I concentrated on 1,000 words that had to matter.

That discipline is exactly what I will need for my next serialized project.

Why you might want to try this too

If you are feeling stuck.

If your book or serial feels overwhelming.

If you are waiting for the perfect outline.

Consider starting smaller.

Pick a theme.

Write three to five short stories connected by that emotional thread.

Do not over think the structure. Let the theme guide you.

Short stories force clarity. They demand momentum. They reveal weaknesses quickly.

And they remind you why you started writing in the first place.

What comes next

Last week marked the final entry in the Moments of Power series.

And with it, the beginning of something larger.

For the past few weeks, I have been outlining the opening episodes of my next serialized fiction project.

It is an expansion of one of my earlier stories, The Temple of the Gods.

This time, it becomes something bigger.

The story follows Andrew Garrick, an archaeologist and Oxford professor, who visits a thousand year old Indian temple that is now a UNESCO heritage site.

While examining ancient inscriptions, he uncovers something impossible.

A time passage hidden within the temple architecture.

Moments later, he finds himself in 1010 AD.

In the middle of the Chola empire.

Standing inside the temple while it is still being built.

What follows is not just an adventure. It is a collision between past and present. Between ambition and eternity. Between a king determined to build something that outlives him and a scholar who may not belong in that century at all.

I am excited about this story.

But I am even more excited about how I am approaching it differently this time.

Longer run.

Tighter episodes.

Clear rhythm.

Room for the story to breathe and evolve.

The short story series was not a detour.

It was preparation.

A small invitation

If you have not yet read the Moments of Power stories, this is a good time to explore them. Start reading here.

They are short. Self contained. Easy to enter.

And if you are curious about where Andrew Garrick???s journey might lead, stay tuned.

The temple gates open soon.