Writer's Ramble - December 2025

This month’s ramble is a little different.

Not in a dramatic way. Not in a “burn everything down and start again” way.
More in a “I needed to sit down and actually organise my thoughts before they drove me mad” way.

I’m one of those people who finds it much easier to sift through things by writing them down.
In real life, I waffle. I circle the point. I get there eventually, but not efficiently.
On the page, at least, the mess has somewhere to settle.

I should also say thank you to my friends on Discord, who have patiently listened to me talk absolute nonsense until something resembling a coherent thought finally emerged.
I’m terrible at articulating things in real time. Writing is where the thoughts finally line up.

So… this ramble is me doing exactly that.

A Quiet Realisation

Somewhere over the last few months, something shifted.

I didn’t notice it at first. There was no big moment. No lightning bolt. Just a growing sense that something felt slightly off — like I was doing the right work, but using the wrong tools.

I started out, years ago now, as a forever DM. Tavomia was built for that. It was a world designed to be used at a table — full of hooks, history, and structure. And I loved it. I still do.

But at some point — without really acknowledging it — I stopped thinking like a TTRPG worldbuilder and started thinking like a writer.

I wasn’t writing lore to be referenced.
I was writing stories to be felt.

Even when I thought I was “just” writing worldbuilding, what kept coming out were voices, scenes, emotions, people. Found families. Small moments. Big consequences. Everything filtered through narrative.

I didn’t consciously make that switch. I just… did.
And I think that’s what’s been rattling around in my head for a while now.

World Anvil, Used Wrong (By Me)

This isn’t a knock on World Anvil. It does exactly what it says on the tin.

The problem was me.

I was trying to use it as a place to write first, when what I actually needed was a place to catalogue. I was effectively trying to put screws in with a hammer — and getting frustrated that it wasn’t working smoothly.

World Anvil works best as a lore bible. A wiki. A source of truth.
And that’s what The Last Home needs to become.

So going forward, WA is shifting firmly into that role:
a canonical reference point, a consistency anchor, the place where locations, rules, factions, and metaphysics live so I never have to stop mid-chapter and think, “Wait… how did this work again?”

The voice won’t vanish. I can’t turn that off even if I try.
But the focus there will be clarity, structure, and coherence — not primary storytelling.

Where the Writing Actually Lives

The actual writing — the stories themselves — belong in the light novels.

That’s been the biggest realisation.

I’m writing for readers, not for worldbuilders.
And that doesn’t make one better than the other — it just means I need to put the work where the right audience actually is.

Platforms like Royal Road exist for people who want to sit down and read fiction.
That’s where Legendary Maids belongs.

World Anvil becomes the spine.
The light novels become the heart.

And suddenly, everything makes a lot more sense.

About WorldEmber

Which brings me to the slightly awkward bit.

I’m stepping back from WorldEmber.

Not because it’s bad. Not because I don’t enjoy writing. But because my focus has shifted, and I don’t want to keep pulling myself in three directions at once.

This isn’t me disappearing. It’s me narrowing the beam.

There’s already plenty of lore here. Enough to support multiple arcs, multiple stories, multiple worlds. Right now, the best thing I can do — for myself and for this project — is commit properly to the novels and let everything else support that goal instead of competing with it.

Christmas Thoughts

This has been a strange year. A hard one in places. A clarifying one in others.

I’ve changed. My priorities have changed. And for the first time in a long while, that doesn’t feel frightening — it feels honest.

So if you notice things shifting around here over the next few months, that’s why.
Same Inn. Same lantern. Clearer direction.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for sticking around. And thank you for letting me ramble while I work things out.

I hope you have a calm, gentle Christmas — however that looks for you.
And if nothing else, I hope you get at least one quiet moment where the world leaves you alone.

More soon.

— Moonie

Still standing. Still scribbling. Still here.