Your books deserve a website that readers YEARN FOR.

It swept the nation and for a couple of weeks (months), it dominated my every waking thought.

I wanted to teleport from my living room in Minnesota to the Cottage. I watched every edit on Instagram. I saved every song on Spotify and played them on loop. I devoured interviews, old short films on YouTube—anything I could get my hands on. Full-on fandemonium. The kind I hadn’t felt since One Direction.

I craved more. I wanted the book. I wanted Hollanov t-shirts. I wanted to live inside that universe a little longer—so I went to the author’s website.

Now, I have a standard in my head for author websites. The first time I discovered Sarah J. Maas’s site after ACOTAR, I was obsessed. I took quizzes. I joined the mailing list. I lingered and revisited, multiple times. And this was years before I became a website designer... I just knew how it made me feel as a fan.

So when I landed on this author's site, I expected… something. A quiz. Character content. Favorite quotes pulled and highlighted. Fan art. Photos from the adaptation. Anything that felt like an extension of the world I’d just poured my entire December and January into.

But there was nothing to grab onto.

The site technically existed, but it didn’t give me anything—no immersion, no fun, no “come closer.” And that might’ve been intentional. Not every author wants to be in the spotlight. But as a fan? I yearned for more.





Because author websites don’t have to be another headache on the marketing to-do list. As an author, you've already climbed a mountain writing the book. The last thing you want is to build a website from scratch.

But the payoff? Huge.





And it just so happens that “home” also leads to more subscribers, more sales, and a stronger reader community.

For a couple of weeks, it dominated my every waking thought.

I wanted to teleport from my living room in Minnesota to the Cottage. I watched every edit and fan creation Instagram would put in front of me. I saved every song on Spotify and played them on loop. I devoured interviews, old short films on YouTube—anything I could get my hands on. Full-on fandemonium. The kind I hadn’t felt since my One Directioner days.

I needed more. I wanted the book. I wanted Hollanov t-shirts. I wanted to live inside that universe a little longer—so I went to the author’s website.

Now, I have a standard in my head for author websites. The first time I discovered Sarah J. Maas’s site after ACOTAR, I was obsessed. I took quizzes. I joined the mailing list. I lingered and revisited, multiple times. And this was years before I became a website designer... I just knew how it made me feel as a fan.

So when I landed on this author's site, I expected… something. A quiz. Character content. Favorite quotes pulled and highlighted. Fan art. Photos from the adaptation. Anything that felt like an extension of the world I’d just poured my entire December and January into.

But there was nothing to grab onto.

The site technically existed, but it didn’t give me anything—no immersion, no fun, no “come closer.” And that might’ve been intentional. Not every author wants to be in the spotlight. But as a fan? I craved more.








Because author websites don’t have to be another headache on your marketing to-do list. You already climbed a mountain writing the book. The last thing you want is to build a website from scratch.

But the payoff? Huge.







And it just so happens that “home” also leads to more subscribers, more sales, and a stronger reader community.

I got wildly obsessed with a gay hockey romance that was adapted for tv.

in case you like origin stories...

That was the moment it clicked: I have a weirdly perfect perspective. I’m a bookish girl who loves to get obsessed—and I’m a website designer who knows how intentional online experiences can be.

A great author website doesn’t just “exist.” It makes readers feel something. It turns casual interest into loyalty. It welcomes your fans like: YES. You’re home.