I Broke My Book With One Dumb Timeline Mistake

And accidentally made it better by fixing it

I like to think I’m a smart person.

Capable. Teachable. Occasionally impressive.

And then…there are days when I do something so boneheaded I can only smack my forehead and say, “Duh.”

This is one of those stories.

Let’s talk about my ongoing feud with calendars.

For reasons that defy logic, I resist putting my books on a timeline as I write them. Part of the problem is simple: I am calendar-challenged. Profoundly so.

Spend a week with me. You’ll see.

I work from home, which doesn’t help. Like the grandmother in Downton Abbey, I tend to think, “What’s a weekend?” Days blur together. I get up, do what needs doing, and write.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

Except Saturday nights.

Saturday nights are sacred. That’s when I have dinner with my Leetle Seester, Jane. It’s the one fixed point in my week—the thing that reminds me time is, in fact, real.

Unfortunately, my confusion about time doesn’t stay in my personal life.

It sneaks into my books.

And last week, it bit me.

Hard.

I had to tear apart an entire manuscript because the timeline didn’t make sense.

The book—Purple, Blame, Game—is set during Mardi Gras in St. Louis, specifically Soulard. (If you don’t know Soulard, it hosts the second-largest Mardi Gras celebration in the world. Also: a Guinness World Record–holding pet parade with 1,500 entrants.)

Naturally, I had to use the parade.

I planned fifteen dogs. Costumes. Chaos. Delight.

And presiding over it all? Gracie, Kiki Lowenstein’s harlequin Great Dane.

It was adorable. It was fun. It was perfect, as you can see for yourself!

It was also…completely wrong.

Because I put the dog parade after Fat Tuesday.

And I set a major story deadline on Fat Tuesday…forgetting that Fat Tuesday is the start of Lent.

Forty. Days. Of. Penance.

(Yes. There are bunnies involved. Don’t ask.)

My proofreader caught it.

Of course she did.

And I had to do the writer’s equivalent of open-heart surgery: rip the book apart and move an entire chunk of story.

Here’s the part that really hurts:

The book got better.

Much better.

The pacing tightened. The tension increased. The story flowed.

All because the timeline finally made sense.

Which leads me to this deeply humbling conclusion:

👉 Your timeline is not optional.
👉 Your calendar is not your enemy.
👉 Your future self will thank you for doing this early.

So if you’re a writer—especially one who “writes by feel”—learn from my mistake.

Here’s what I’m doing from now on:

• I build a calendar before (or during) drafting

• I put actual days and dates into my rough draft of the manuscript

• I use time markers like “Monday” or “two weeks later” so I—and the reader—don’t get lost

Because here’s the truth no one tells you:

A broken timeline will break your story.

Not in an obvious way. Not in a dramatic way.

But in a subtle, nagging, “something feels off” way that kills tension and pacing.

And then—if you’re lucky—your proofreader will save you.

If you’re not?

Your readers will notice.

So do yourself a favor.

Use a calendar.

Even if, like me, you occasionally have to ask, “Wait…what day is it?”

If you'd like to read about the crazy dog parade, you can pre-order the book here
👉 https://amzn.to/4luX6BF

Mystery Mondays

Are still a mystery to me this week. Sigh. I’ll send you a quick note if I get my guest nailed down!

Love from an embarrassed Joanna.