A book launch, a recording studio, and a promise

Oh hey hello!

It’s already February, which means my next middle grade comes out next month. I’ve been working on it for years, I’ve been waiting to share it for years, and now the release date is almost here.

I wrote When Tomorrow Burns to process my feelings about living in a time of deep uncertainty, when the world is literally and metaphorically on fire. So there’s a lot of honesty in these pages, about the climate crisis, and social media, and toxic masculinity.

But in addition to processing these fires, I also wrote this book to find hope.

It’s so easy to look at the crises around us and succumb to nihilism. I see that temptation in adults, and I’m seeing it more and more in the younger generations, too. But nihilism is an illusion, not a truth.

In truth, I believe this world can be better. And this book is a love letter to all the people who work to make it better. It is a love letter to community, and friendship, and resilience, and hope.

If you’re in the Seattle area, please join me to celebrate. The launch party will be on Tuesday, March 3rd, 7 pm, at the Lake Forest Park Third Place Books*. I hope to see you there.

If you’re not in Seattle, you can order a signed copy, as always, from Third Place Books. Be sure to write your personalization request in the order comments at checkout.

*Note that this is a different location than my previous book launches! (Where I can serve food! So there will be some fruits and desserts ☺️)

---

In the recording studio

A couple weeks ago, I got to record the author’s note for my audiobook.

Recording for When Tomorrow Burns

I showed up at the fancy recording studio, donned some alarmingly expensive headphones . . . and then immediately realized I hadn’t reread my author’s note since I wrote it in September.

Pro tip? Don’t do that.

It took me a read-through to get reacquainted with the words, but the bright side of coming in unprepared (oops), was that it was almost like reading a letter from my past self to my current self.

And reading this letter about hope and community now, while the fires in our country burn so bright—I needed that reminder. Maybe you do, too?

So, I’m copying the author’s note here.

These notes mean a lot to me. Because while every word in my books comes from my heart, when I’m writing novels, I’m prioritizing story and fiction. The message is there, but it’s certainly not the only thing.

These notes, though, are the only time I get to write to readers directly. (Or speak to readers directly, in the case of the audiobook.) In previous novels, I’ve offered some backstory about why I wrote the book and what that process was like. Those letters are for all readers, kids and educators and parents alike.

But this book felt different. When I sat down to write this note, I knew I wanted to address kids directly. I wanted to promise them that I’d fight for them . . . and then live up to that promise.

And I wanted to show them that the messages of this book—that community matters, that hope is possible, that so many people are fighting for a better future—those messages aren’t just fiction. They’re very real.

I hope When Tomorrow Burns offers honesty and comfort in hard times. I hope this note does, too. 💙

---

A letter to readers

Here’s a promise, dear reader: For every copy of this book sold, I will donate a portion of my net proceeds to Earthjustice, an organization that protects and defends the environment. Another promise: Random House, the publisher, has made a donation to One Tree Planted, so that new trees will be planted in honor of this book.

It feels urgent to do this, because we live in urgent times.

As I write this, on the morning of September 17, 2025, I’m sitting in my home in Seattle, watching the haze roll in. A hundred miles from here, the North Cascades National Park is on fire, lit up by ever-increasing global heat, and smoke blankets the city.

The world is on fire. Some of those fires are literal. Others are metaphorical—they can’t be doused with water alone. And watching them all rage, it’s hard not to feel worried or angry or scared. It’s hard to breathe.

I don’t know when or where you’re reading this book. Maybe you’re curled up in bed, decades into the future. Maybe in that future these worries are a distant past. I hope so. But maybe this book has found you at a time when you, too, are looking out at a world on fire and asking, How do we live in it?

When I was a kid asking that question, adults either told me there was nothing to be done, or that my generation would fix the world. Both of those answers felt impossible to carry. And neither of them turned out to be true.

I want you to know: There are things we can do.

And, more importantly: It’s not all on you to do it. It’s not all on you to save the world.

Because what I found as I got older was that change is a work in progress. So many people, across so many generations, have been doing that work. And I could be a part of it.

I dedicated this book to my community because I know and love so many people who show up, every day, to make the world a better place. Whether it’s advocating for clean energy, protecting communities from climate disaster, giving kids a safe place to play after school, planting gardens for pollinators, feeding the hungry, building homes for the poor, protesting for peace, or standing up for kids’ freedom to read—I have met a whole forest’s worth of people who are trying to help. I’m sure you have as well, maybe without even realizing it.

The truth is, there’s no easy answer to how we live in a world on fire. But if I had to give one, I would say: together. So many of us are working hard, together. And one day, when you’re ready, we will need your help, too. But you won’t be alone.

It’s the forest, not the trees.

We are here, and we’ll be here.

That’s my promise.

With care,

Tae