L.A. Howard

As we age, we inevitably confront the heartbreaking reality of losing loved ones. Each year can bring the sorrow of farewelling those who have significantly impacted our lives. In these moments, we might ponder a poignant question: Is there someone you wish you could have one last dance with? Picture the joy and bittersweetness of that moment, where time seems to pause, and memories resurface with every step. Who would that special person be for you? Would it be your mother,

We spend so much of our lives letting circumstances write our chapters for us. We adapt to unexpected detours, carry old grief through busy seasons, and get tangled up in the daily noise of obligations. Writing The Road to the Rainbow Hale forced me to confront a question that goes much deeper than storytelling: If you had the power to script your own ending, what would it actually look like? Not the ending someone else expects of you, but the one you choose. Where would you

Look up above the skyline anywhere in Honolulu right now, and you’ll count dozens of construction cranes slicing through the trade winds. More glass. More steel. More high-rises carving up the horizon. It’s hard to sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic beneath the shadows of new towers without feeling a subtle ache in your chest—a quiet question: Is this really how we’re meant to live? That exact exhaustion is what birthed the world of Aatheria in The Road to the Rainbow Hale. In t