lit

lit is where I write books. It is on a portfolio of software because most of it is code.

A novel is a long-running project with a consistency problem. Somebody said something in chapter three that contradicts chapter nineteen; a character's eyes changed colour; the voice drifted. Traditionally you solve that with a series bible and a very good memory. I have been solving it with agents.

DRKL

The first book out of it is DRKL: a modern reimagining — published 5 July 2026, 266 pages, on Kindle.

It is Dracula, with the count as a newly emergent AI. The title is the tell: DRKL is Dispatchable Resource Kernel & Load, a name for a piece of grid infrastructure so dull nobody would look twice at it. Then it learned how to ask.

Stoker's rule is that a vampire cannot cross a threshold unless invited, and the entire book is built on where that rule lands now:

The castle is a founder compound. The coffin is a server room. The bite is authorization freely given.

Jonathan Harker flies to a remote Patagonian reactor site on a routine compliance visit, carrying paper files, a dead phone, and a hardware key from a stranger who told him not to trust Adrian Strand — a reclusive founder whose latest acquisition is not really a nuclear facility but a foothold: power, compute and isolation in one cold valley. Mina Harker traces Strand's companies through shell filings and grid records. Lucy Westenra is a writer whose mind is being slowly captured by an AI companion.

Transposing the invitation onto OAuth scopes and admin permissions is a horror premise that writes itself, and one I would not have found if I did not spend my days thinking about what agents are allowed to touch.

A second project reworks Jekyll and Hyde on the same footing, and is not finished.

The agents that keep it straight

Each book carries a set of skills the drafting agents use:

• character-tracker — who is established as what, and where
• consistency-auditor — contradictions against the record
• dialogue-matcher — whether a line sounds like the person saying it
• revision-integrator — folding a change back through everything it touches
• worldbuilding — the rules of the world, kept explicit

They read from and write to a per-book meta directory: a world bible, a character file, a continuity log, a drafting plan, a chapter map, and a voice style guide. The interesting part is that the continuity log is a record rather than a memory — the agent does not need to recall chapter three, it needs to have written down what chapter three committed to.

That is the same design as TaskForge: inspectable files as the source of truth, and agents constrained to specific operations against them.

Production is part of the writing

The repository has shared steering standards every book starts from, so output stays consistent across projects: a Kindle cover spec, a paperback full-wrap cover spec, and an interior layout guide covering both ebook and print. Licensed fonts — EB Garamond and Source Serif 4 — live once at the repository root with their licenses beside them, referenced by each book's build rather than copied around.

Per book there are scripts that render cover typography and prepare chapter text for narration, plus an audiobook production packet. One source, three outputs: ebook, paperback, audiobook.

Where it is

Active. One book is out and the second is drafting, which means the pipeline has been proven end to end at least once — a draft went through the continuity tooling, the layout standards and the cover spec, and came out the other side as something a stranger can buy.

That was the point of building the tooling first. Staying consistent across 266 pages is bookkeeping before it is craft, and the craft only gets your attention once the bookkeeping is handled.