February Wrap Up

 

I almost felt like I had professional PTSD. What on earth was that waiting period? After weeks of watching job boards, refreshing pages, and losing sleep over timelines that seemed endlessly delayed, something finally shifted. On February 11th, Hachette posted an entry level role. Shortly after, HarperCollins followed with one of their own. The timing feels telling. My assumption is that Q1 budgets had just been finalized and hiring approvals were released accordingly.

But this post is really about the Hachette role.

Not only is it a genuinely entry level position, which in publishing can feel rare, it aligns almost perfectly with what I have found myself increasingly drawn to: sales strategy, performance tracking, and analytical reporting. Over the past few months, I have become more interested in the mechanics behind how books move, not just editorially or creatively, but commercially. How are titles positioned? How is performance measured? What data informs decision making?

This role sits exactly at that intersection. It is not just entry level. It is operational. It is analytical. It is commercial. And for where my interests have been evolving, it feels unusually aligned rather than merely aspirational.

The more I research publishing, the more I realize how strategically you can position yourself in markets that were not what initially drew you in. Exposure changes perspective. What begins as a fixed idea of where you belong gradually becomes more flexible, more informed, and, frankly, more ambitious.

I have found myself newly interested in international sales, alongside translation rights, an area I once swore I would never go near. That shift alone says a lot about how much my understanding of the industry has evolved. The deeper you look, the more you see how interconnected rights, territory, revenue, and cultural positioning really are.

The French and Italian markets, in particular, have captured my attention. Their publishing ecosystems, reader engagement, and international influence are impossible to ignore. It is a reminder that in this industry, saying “never” is rarely wise. There is simply too much happening globally, too many opportunities across territories, and too many ways to build a meaningful career path that you did not originally envision.

February 14th was Valentine’s Day, and let’s just say I had plenty of fictional book boyfriends to keep me company. Currently, I’m swooning over Nico Russo, Christian Allister, and Ronan Markov—intense, protective, and somehow unbearably sweet around the heart. Whether it’s pink, red, or even yellow depends entirely on which one you ask.

And if that wasn’t enough, I was called the Sweet Abelli, Malyshka, and Kotyonok all in one sitting. Can it get any better than that? I think not.

Ramadan began this month, which always feels like a reset for the mind, body, and soul. It arrives exactly when I need it most, every single year. This one has been particularly emotional, as it is the first without my mother by my side. Even so, the month carries the same spiritual depth and quiet magic it always has.

There is something about Ramadan that recalibrates you. The discipline of fasting, the intentional slowing down, the heightened awareness of gratitude and patience. It creates space for reflection in a way nothing else quite does.

More than anything, though, I have been thinking about how different it feels seasonally. When I first started fasting almost ten years ago, the days were long and humid, the nights warm, and the sun felt relentless, almost like a constant personal spotlight. Now, the days are rainy and grey, and the evenings are shorter and quieter. There is less wandering outside after iftar, fewer spontaneous late night dessert stops, and a different rhythm altogether.

And yet, there is something beautiful about witnessing these shifts. To experience Ramadan moving through the seasons, to feel how the environment changes while the spiritual core remains constant, is a privilege. The weather evolves. Life evolves. Circumstances change. But the essence of the month, and what it means to Muslims like myself, remains steady.

To briefly return to the job search, I did apply for a couple of the very few entry level roles currently available in publishing. For one of them, I received a pre screening call, which means I am now either one yes or one no away from an interview.

That space in between is uncomfortable. I am hesitant to let my hopes rise too high, yet equally afraid of the email that will ultimately confirm the outcome. It is a strange emotional balancing act, trying to remain optimistic while also preparing yourself for disappointment.

But I keep reminding myself that there is only so much we can actually do and control. I applied. I prepared. I showed up well in the conversation. Beyond that, the decision moves into someone else’s hands. Learning to sit in that uncertainty without letting it consume you might be one of the most underrated professional skills of all.

On the reading front, I have found myself rereading more than anything else lately. There is something comforting about returning to familiar worlds. I moved quickly through the Made series by Danielle Lori, which remains as addictive and immersive as the first time I read it.

Today, however, I finally opened something new. I am trying to commit to it properly, although, in full transparency, I am only a page in. The book is Dangerous Beginnings by Myla Carbo, built around the undeniably compelling trope of a nurse and a mafia king. It promises intensity, high stakes, and that dramatic tension that makes the genre so consuming.

Reading a new author whose writing style differs from what I am used to is always an adjustment. It can feel challenging and even slightly exhausting at first, especially when you are stepping outside your comfort zone. Yet it is also exciting. There is a certain thrill in recalibrating your expectations and discovering a voice that operates on a different rhythm. It reminds me that reading, much like publishing itself, is about expansion. Not every experience is instantly seamless, but that unfamiliarity is often where growth happens.

I have also been paying close attention to publicity strategies this year, and some have been particularly impressive. A lot of that has come from Ana Huang, whose marketing and reader engagement tactics deserve a post of their own, which I plan to write next. The level of visibility, consistency, and brand cohesion she maintains is not accidental. It feels deliberate, sustained, and deeply aligned with her audience.

At the same time, I have noticed the opposite pattern from some authors who have recently secured major, high profile deals. Despite the announcements and the excitement surrounding those acquisitions, a few have seemingly gone quiet. Minimal online presence, little visible engagement, and long gaps between updates. It is interesting to observe how momentum can either be amplified post deal or allowed to dissipate.

From the outside, it reinforces how critical sustained visibility is in today’s publishing landscape. A big deal may open the door, but consistent presence appears to keep readers invested. Watching these different approaches unfold in real time has been as educational as it has been fascinating.

On a much more personal note, I am still working out, but my mindset around it has shifted. I am learning to love my body while I train, not only once I reach a goal. That distinction feels important.

I recently realized that I have a pear shaped body. For the longest time, I resisted that reality. I did not want the round hips or the softness that came with them. I wanted something narrower, straighter, more in line with whatever silhouette seemed dominant at the time. Now, I own it. I train for my body shape and for my personal goals, not for an imagined trend.

The truth is that no body type is ever permanently “in.” Trends shift. Standards evolve. What is idealized in one decade is replaced in the next. And that realization has been freeing.

I recently watched Blonde, the film based on the life of Marilyn Monroe. Falling down the Marilyn Monroe rabbit hole, one thing became very clear: although she was undeniably considered the epitome of beauty in her era, today’s beauty standards would likely categorize her differently. That contrast says more about society than it does about her. Everything changes. The gaze changes. The expectation changes.

I am almost twenty six now, and it genuinely feels like my frontal lobe has fully developed. There is a quiet confidence that comes with that. A sense of perspective. Trends are temporary. Your relationship with your body is long term. I would rather build something sustainable than chase something fleeting.

LinkedIn, meanwhile, continues to be its temperamental self. Some days it feels full of opportunity and insight, and other days it feels like a carefully curated performance. I am learning to engage with it strategically rather than emotionally.

But enough about me.

I would genuinely love to know what everyone else’s February is looking like. What are you building, applying for, launching, reading, or quietly working toward? This month has felt transitional in many ways, and I am always curious about what is unfolding behind the scenes for others as well.

Let’s compare notes.

All I can say is thank goodness this month only had twenty-eight days this year. Some months just feel longer than they need to, and February has been one of those in every sense.

A short post for a short month. February has always been an odd one for me, but I’m just glad to have made it through.

Here’s hoping March is even better, brighter, and more boastful. Step by step, we’ll get there.

My Let’s Connect page is where it always is, so don’t forget to give it a quick look to see where else I’m active.

See you between the pages,
Vivian