Unveiling the Author

My history with the pen is embedded with a great story arc: hopeful beginning, unfortunate circumstance quashing the dream, phoenix out of the ashes, triumph.

All through elementary, middle and high school, whether poetry or short stories or plays, the writing assignments were my delight. Words flew from my fingers, flowed like a river, poured onto the page. Until I ran into the buzzsaw that was my high school English teacher, and my confidence drained out of the bottom of me. It took time, but in eight short calendar months, I shut down and switched my entire future focus. I majored in Math in college and wrote much less than I would have, of course. And then I went to law school and wrote nothing creative for three years. And then for about twenty years after that.

But then I began again in starts and stops with sharing life stories, profound thoughts (to me, at least), or life lessons. And in 2020, in the middle of the quarantined life we all were leading, and after a few random strangers had told me they thought I had a book in me, I sat down and wrote. An entire book. In just under 7 months. All 95,000 words.

That book, The Rain Falls, is being beta-read, is in its third edit before shopping agents, and hopefully on its way to being published. The first draft of my second book, tentatively named Willows and Water, sits at around 75% complete in my word programs.

And I love it again. I love writing stories that are designed for people to see themselves in them - to reflect on the truth that may be ringing true, and to answer the invitations woven through what I hope are very human experiences.

Invitations to be gentle with yourself and yet honest. And grow.

Invitations to be gentle with others and acknowledge how little history we have when we draw conclusions about the people we meet – dismiss their past before we even know it as it shows itself in their lives.

And invitations to connect. To do relationships with intentionality. To love themselves and others well.