Every few months, I find myself standing at the anvil again — soot on my hands, heart humming with ideas, wondering if I’ve been shaping metal or just spinning sparks.
This time, instead of guessing, I decided to ask for help.
Not from a mentor or editor, but from my favorite unlikely ally — AI.
I asked it to hold up a mirror to my Substack. To show me where I’d been, so I could see where I’m going.
And what it reflected back surprised me.
🔥 The Mirror in the Machine
When I started Forge of the Fictioneer, my goal was simple: to create a place where writers could rediscover their creative fire — not by chasing perfection, but by embracing process.
But over time, that fire shifted. Some weeks I wrote about courage and grace, other weeks about AI, story structure, or myth. I knew the themes were connected, but I couldn’t see the whole shape of what I’d been building.
So I asked AI to analyze everything I’d written over the past three months. Not to judge — but to illuminate.
Here’s what it found:
My forge burns brightest in reflection and emotional truth.
I often teach craft through my own story, not instruction manuals.
My faith flickers through everything I write — quietly, but unmistakably.
And my weakest ember? Inviting readers into the fire with me.
⚒ What the Forge Revealed
AI didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know — but it showed me what I hadn’t seen clearly.
I realized how much of my writing has been about permission: to write before you’re ready, giving yourself permission to grieve, and to create without apology.
I also saw how my fascination with AI isn’t about technology at all.
It’s about transition — using a tool to draw out what was already in me.
In a strange way, AI became my scribe and mirror.
It reminded me that data can show patterns, but only the soul gives them meaning.
🕯 The Lesson in the Light
I’ve always believed that creativity and faith are part of the same forge.
Both ask us to trust what we can’t see — to shape meaning from the unseen heat.
This reflection confirmed what I’ve felt all along:
The Forge isn’t just about writing. It’s about refining the person who writes.
And that means pausing, sometimes, to look at what you’ve made.
Not to critique it — but to understand it.
🐉 Facing the Dragon in the Forge
If I’m honest, there’s still a creature that hisses at me every time I open a blank page — the imposter dragon.
It tells me I’m not skilled enough to teach, not wise enough to lead, not brave enough to keep showing up.
Some days I believe it.
But then I remember what the forge is for.
Fire doesn’t destroy the metal; it separates what’s false from what’s true.
Every post I’ve shared, every time I’ve pressed “publish” with my heart pounding, I’ve thrown another lie into the flame — and watched it melt.
That’s what this space is for:
a place to burn away fear until only authenticity remains.
So if you’ve ever wondered whether you belong here, you do.
Because this forge was never for the flawless — it’s for the ones who still shake as they strike.
🌕 Where I’m Going Next
That reflection inspired my next season here:
The Season of Illumination.
Over the next few months, we’ll move from spark to surrender — exploring how faith, story, and courage shape the light within us.
Each week will follow a rhythm:
Sunday: Long post on one stage of illumination
Mon–Sat: Notes, humor, and short reflections that fan the week’s flame
We’ll talk about sparks, cracks, embers, and the way light sneaks through even when the forge feels cold.
✨ The Invitation
If you could ask for a mirror like that — not of numbers or analytics, but of meaning — what would you want it to show you?
What would you discover about your own creative fire?
This week, I invite you to look back at your own forge.
What’s glowing beneath the ashes?
What truth is ready to be shaped into something new?
Because sometimes the only way to move forward…is to remember what already burns within you.
💬 Reader Prompt
Drop one word that describes your current creative spark. 🔥
Dianna Sandora (a.k.a. Jael)
Author, World-Builder, and Creative Alchemist
