Einstein’s theory of general relativity was revolutionary. It described the beginnings of space-time, specifically how the continuum originates from the big bang singularity and ends in the singularity of a star or the entire universe.

I feel thankful that during my existence within space-time, I was able to create the character of Ceres Relasin and her Kingdom of Solaris, but my mind was never alone during the process. Some consider the human desire for reliance to be a fundamental flaw of our existence, but reliance is what created Letalis.

Thank you to my sister for slaving over these pages with me at terrible hours of the night, even if your all-nighters never ended up working for you. As annoyed as I may have seemed at the time, I appreciate all your nit-picky criticisms and endless support. I’m sorry I changed the name of the Kingdom.

Thank you to my parents for believing in this story from the beginning and supporting me during the final days of editing it, even when I threw a few tantrums and said everything with an irritable tone. Mom and Dad, thank you for always thinking of me in my best light and propelling my aspirations.

To my father, your dedication to this novel is astounding. I adore how much energy you place toward me and motivating my dreams, so thank you for everything.

Thank you Sia for dealing with all my cover art drama and producing a product that I can never stop staring at. There’s a reason why everyone who looks at Letalis tells me they’re obsessed with the cover—it’s because your art is incredible. You’re my favorite business partner.

Books Go Social, thank you for tolerating my endless video calls and steering me on the right path with this novel. Katlyn, thank you for being one of the first to read this manuscript and giving me the reviews that motivated my continuance. My extended family and friends, thank you for the abundance of kind words, even when this book was nothing more than a collection of words. I appreciate all of you so much.

Thank you to my favorite books for instilling this love for literature in me. You all may be pretentious in your writing, but are beautiful in your influence.

m so indecisive with this book.

I just want to change everything”

is the last text I sent.

It feels largely awkward to write a preface when I have nothing prolific to say, but it also feels necessary. The truth lies in the sheer quantity of the words I have, rather than the quality, and this fact is incredibly prevalent in my mind this morning. Perhaps it’s the all-nighter, or the three consecutive cups of coffee, or the fact that A Brief History of Time is beside me and that novel always finds a way to elicit a strange thought.

I began Letalis when I was 14 and at the forefront of my high school career, which is a pretentious way of saying something completely inaccurate. I had read a total of two classics and thought myself to be the greatest young mind in the history of American literature since the last teenage author published something. I completed the first draft of Letalis when I was 15 and found myself maintaining dreadful, continuous eye contact with a docx. file that contained 120,039 words.

Only 77,996 of those words are still here. To be honest, that value is generous in itself, considering how between May 29, 2022 and July 15, 2022, I rewrote the entire novel. Let’s say about 10% of my original freshman year writing still is on these pages. Only 10% of my younger self’s entire life, pride, and joy made it to print, while the rest is preserved only by my mind.

Here in August 2022, I am hoping that this manuscript open in another tab will no longer be a figment of my imagination by tomorrow morning. It’s been turbulent, to say the least. I have never simultaneously disliked and worshiped a piece of writing as thoroughly as I have with Letalis, and it’s shameful to admit the amount of sleep and sanity I lost for Ceres Relasin and her convoluted, tragically fractured story.

Ceres is the culmination of the most eccentric and unbearably mundane of my thoughts. I don’t know if she is the same person now that she was when I first wrote her name on paper, but I love her regardless. I adore her obliviousness to the intricacies of outer space and how she doesn’t know that her name is my favorite dwarf planet. I am fascinated by her inability to tell right from wrong, or her sheer ignorance of the fact that there is even a difference. I am in awe of her ability to tell this story, and even more in awe of myself for writing it.

Forgive the thoughts of a 14-year-old that are sprinkled in this novel. I hope for the following 255 pages, particle physics and cosmological principles enable you to remain suspended in space-time (for at least as long as Ceres is).

love, rishika