You know, I don’t think enough people talk about the time spent in between one stop and the next on this creative journey called: life. We hear about the accomplishments, the milestones, the dreams achieved, but how does one get there?
My two-year-old son brought me a daffodil yesterday.“Oh, I love it! Thank you!” I said, breathing in its sweet scent. “Want to smell?” I extended it to him.
“It melfs like sunshine,” he said as he squished it to his nose.
You may be surprised to hear that I’ve been pretty unproductive of late, after publishing a mammoth of a book. It’s taken about every ounce of energy to not “just do something for the sake of doing something.”
I sit here, thrumming my fingers on my desk, during the few precious moments of nap time. What am I doing?
I’m updating plugins on my website.
Why? Honestly, I have no idea...
I gripped the railing, frantically searching my husband’s eyes.
Was I going to make it through this?
He nodded reassuringly, but he also seemed worried. Should I be worried?
The first question I often get asked about my book is "how much of it is true?" It's based on the life story of Rindy Nong, who I had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing in 2014
During the writing of this novel, I've birthed three children. It's a sobering and awe-inducing revelation honestly. This "book baby" has been quietly growing in my heart as well as on the page for a decade.