Dan Uselton's Blog - Posts Tagged "dan-uselton"
Confessions of a Writing Addict: Why I Can’t Quit the Page
Let’s be honest: I didn’t set out to become a writing addict. It started with a spark—an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone, a voice whispering, “What if?” Suddenly, I was staying up late to chase down a line of dialogue, skipping lunch to scribble in the margins, and finding characters in the shadows of every room.
Writing isn’t just a hobby. For some of us, it’s a compulsion—a need, almost physical, like thirst or hunger. One sentence leads to another, a chapter begets a book, and before you know it, you’re mainlining plot twists at 2 a.m., chasing the high of a story finally coming together. There’s something thrilling about being lost in your own world, about bending time and space with nothing but words.
But it’s not always glamorous. Sometimes, the addiction means getting weird looks in public because you’re mumbling lines of dialogue. Or jotting ideas on napkins. Or forgetting to answer texts because your brain’s trapped in a scene that won’t let go. You find yourself promising “just five more minutes,” then surfacing hours later, blinking at the clock and the world outside your window.
And yet, I wouldn’t trade it. Writing is the only addiction I know that leaves you richer when you’re done. Each story is a new place to wander, every rewrite a puzzle to solve. The rush of a plot twist landing just right, or a character surprising even you, is better than any sugar high or TV binge.
Some people run marathons. Some chase storms. Writers chase words. Maybe it’s a little reckless. Maybe it’s a little lonely sometimes. But for those of us hooked on storytelling, there’s no cure we’re looking for.
So if you see me, glassy-eyed, talking to myself in the coffee shop corner, just know—I’m not crazy. I’m writing. And yes, I’ll have another cup, please.
Writing isn’t just a hobby. For some of us, it’s a compulsion—a need, almost physical, like thirst or hunger. One sentence leads to another, a chapter begets a book, and before you know it, you’re mainlining plot twists at 2 a.m., chasing the high of a story finally coming together. There’s something thrilling about being lost in your own world, about bending time and space with nothing but words.
But it’s not always glamorous. Sometimes, the addiction means getting weird looks in public because you’re mumbling lines of dialogue. Or jotting ideas on napkins. Or forgetting to answer texts because your brain’s trapped in a scene that won’t let go. You find yourself promising “just five more minutes,” then surfacing hours later, blinking at the clock and the world outside your window.
And yet, I wouldn’t trade it. Writing is the only addiction I know that leaves you richer when you’re done. Each story is a new place to wander, every rewrite a puzzle to solve. The rush of a plot twist landing just right, or a character surprising even you, is better than any sugar high or TV binge.
Some people run marathons. Some chase storms. Writers chase words. Maybe it’s a little reckless. Maybe it’s a little lonely sometimes. But for those of us hooked on storytelling, there’s no cure we’re looking for.
So if you see me, glassy-eyed, talking to myself in the coffee shop corner, just know—I’m not crazy. I’m writing. And yes, I’ll have another cup, please.
Time Travel, Trauma, and the Terrifying What-Ifs: Behind the Scenes of My Twelve-Year-Old Wife By Dan Uselton
What would you do if the person you loved most vanished—only to return as a child who remembers everything?
That’s the question that launched My Twelve-Year-Old Wife, a genre-bending thriller that messes with your head as much as your heart. It’s not a time travel story in the traditional sense—there’s no DeLorean, no wormhole, no quantum physicist explaining paradoxes with a whiteboard. This is time travel at its most disturbing: intimate, emotional, and deeply personal.
When I sat down to write this book, I didn’t set out to break genre rules. I wanted to explore the psychological fallout of love colliding with time, identity, and power. The premise came from a nightmare I couldn’t shake: a man’s missing wife shows up on his doorstep years later—only now, she’s twelve years old, barefoot in winter, and she remembers everything. Including him.
Dan Fox, the protagonist, isn’t a hero. He’s just a man scrambling to do the right thing in a situation that doesn’t come with a rulebook. The love of his life is back… but he can’t love her the same way. He can’t even explain what’s happening without sounding like a lunatic. And when a masked predator starts circling the edges of the timeline, things spiral fast.
Writing My Twelve-Year-Old Wife meant juggling timelines, tracking cause and effect across fractured realities, and—honestly—rewriting certain chapters more times than I care to admit. The emotional beats were the hardest. I had to ask myself constantly: If this were real, how would it feel? What would it cost? Time travel isn’t just science fiction—it’s psychological fiction. Every jump leaves a scar.
Some behind-the-scenes details readers might not know:
The original ending was much darker. Test readers (and my editor) practically begged me to give Dan some sliver of hope.
Celia, the wife, had three different names across drafts. I finally landed on Celia because it felt timeless—fitting for a woman unstuck in time.
The antagonist, known only as the man in the mask, wasn’t in the first draft. He showed up in chapter five without warning… and stayed. I’m still not sure if I created him or if he was always waiting in the dark.
Ultimately, My Twelve-Year-Old Wife is about more than time travel. It’s about memory, grief, and the way trauma doesn’t just echo—it mutates. And sometimes, even when the past returns, it doesn’t bring comfort. It brings consequences.
If you’re into psychological thrillers with a sci-fi twist and a touch of heartbreak, I hope you’ll give it a read. Just don’t expect easy answers. Time doesn’t play fair—and neither does this book.
Available now on Amazon.
https://amazon.com/dp/B0FD87Y85R
Trigger warning: Contains emotionally intense content, including themes of loss, identity, and psychological manipulation.
That’s the question that launched My Twelve-Year-Old Wife, a genre-bending thriller that messes with your head as much as your heart. It’s not a time travel story in the traditional sense—there’s no DeLorean, no wormhole, no quantum physicist explaining paradoxes with a whiteboard. This is time travel at its most disturbing: intimate, emotional, and deeply personal.
When I sat down to write this book, I didn’t set out to break genre rules. I wanted to explore the psychological fallout of love colliding with time, identity, and power. The premise came from a nightmare I couldn’t shake: a man’s missing wife shows up on his doorstep years later—only now, she’s twelve years old, barefoot in winter, and she remembers everything. Including him.
Dan Fox, the protagonist, isn’t a hero. He’s just a man scrambling to do the right thing in a situation that doesn’t come with a rulebook. The love of his life is back… but he can’t love her the same way. He can’t even explain what’s happening without sounding like a lunatic. And when a masked predator starts circling the edges of the timeline, things spiral fast.
Writing My Twelve-Year-Old Wife meant juggling timelines, tracking cause and effect across fractured realities, and—honestly—rewriting certain chapters more times than I care to admit. The emotional beats were the hardest. I had to ask myself constantly: If this were real, how would it feel? What would it cost? Time travel isn’t just science fiction—it’s psychological fiction. Every jump leaves a scar.
Some behind-the-scenes details readers might not know:
The original ending was much darker. Test readers (and my editor) practically begged me to give Dan some sliver of hope.
Celia, the wife, had three different names across drafts. I finally landed on Celia because it felt timeless—fitting for a woman unstuck in time.
The antagonist, known only as the man in the mask, wasn’t in the first draft. He showed up in chapter five without warning… and stayed. I’m still not sure if I created him or if he was always waiting in the dark.
Ultimately, My Twelve-Year-Old Wife is about more than time travel. It’s about memory, grief, and the way trauma doesn’t just echo—it mutates. And sometimes, even when the past returns, it doesn’t bring comfort. It brings consequences.
If you’re into psychological thrillers with a sci-fi twist and a touch of heartbreak, I hope you’ll give it a read. Just don’t expect easy answers. Time doesn’t play fair—and neither does this book.
Available now on Amazon.
https://amazon.com/dp/B0FD87Y85R
Trigger warning: Contains emotionally intense content, including themes of loss, identity, and psychological manipulation.
Chloroform Wars — Runner-Up in Paris (and an Unexpected Twist)
Big news first: Chloroform Wars was just named Runner-Up (Wild Card) at the Paris Book Festival 2025 . That’s huge for me, and I couldn’t be more excited to see this gritty, dystopian game-show story getting recognized internationally.
But here’s the funny part… despite the award, Chloroform Wars is actually the book of mine getting the least traction with readers right now.
Meanwhile, My Twelve-Year-Old Wife has been on absolute fire — you’ve read 12,000 more pages of it in the past month than Chloroform Wars! Don’t get me wrong, Twelve-Year-Old Wife is a wild, time-bending thrill ride and I love that you’re connecting with it. But I’ll admit, I half-expected Chloroform Wars to shoot up the ladder faster, especially with all the comparisons to Black Mirror and The Hunger Games.
Maybe that’s just the way stories find their readers — some sneak quietly, others kick the door down. Either way, I’m grateful to see both books out there, being discovered and talked about.
If you’ve already read Chloroform Wars, thank you — and if not, maybe now’s a good time to check out the Paris Book Festival Runner-Up 😉
📚 Chloroform Wars: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FBLQP1LG
📚 My Twelve-Year-Old Wife: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FD87Y85R
Thanks for being part of this journey — every page you read, every review, and every share keeps these stories alive.
— Dan
But here’s the funny part… despite the award, Chloroform Wars is actually the book of mine getting the least traction with readers right now.
Meanwhile, My Twelve-Year-Old Wife has been on absolute fire — you’ve read 12,000 more pages of it in the past month than Chloroform Wars! Don’t get me wrong, Twelve-Year-Old Wife is a wild, time-bending thrill ride and I love that you’re connecting with it. But I’ll admit, I half-expected Chloroform Wars to shoot up the ladder faster, especially with all the comparisons to Black Mirror and The Hunger Games.
Maybe that’s just the way stories find their readers — some sneak quietly, others kick the door down. Either way, I’m grateful to see both books out there, being discovered and talked about.
If you’ve already read Chloroform Wars, thank you — and if not, maybe now’s a good time to check out the Paris Book Festival Runner-Up 😉
📚 Chloroform Wars: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FBLQP1LG
📚 My Twelve-Year-Old Wife: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FD87Y85R
Thanks for being part of this journey — every page you read, every review, and every share keeps these stories alive.
— Dan
