What a difference a single year makes. It was a year ago today that I publicly announced that I submitted my first manuscript to Ashton Publishing Group. I still remember my feelings of anxiety (and checking my email every two minutes) like it was two minutes ago instead of 365 days ago. Now, I’ve not only published one book, I’ve published two (Until the Stars Fall from the Sky and So the Heart Can Dance) and my third one Joy & Tiers is currently being edited and is due to be released in mid July. On its heels is a fourth novel, Identity of the Heart, tentatively scheduled to be released sometime in September. If you had told me at any time during my past that writing was going to be my vocation of choice, I would’ve collapsed into hysterical peals of laughter. For many years I had the impression that I was the world’s worst writer. This idea was first planted in my brain by my seventh grade English teacher who flat-out told me as much. I believed this so strongly that I put off taking my creative writing class in college until the very last term for fear that I would not be able to pass the class. My professor in that class strongly encouraged me to pursue writing. She insisted that I had a gift for writing. I was dubious to say the least. I was pretty convinced that the only reason she said that was so that I would fight through my sleep deprived state of new motherhood and finish my assignments. Well, it turns out that she knew me better than I knew myself. I really enjoy telling stories. It turns out that buried deep under the artist/social worker/attorney there is a writer in here somewhere.
It’s been an amazing year. So, thanks to the people who gave me a push along the way like Professor Elizabeth Sargent, Linda Kage, Ada Frost Ashton Cartwright-who was brave enough to give me my first break. As always, thank you to my biggest supporter and cheerleader, Leonard Crawford–without you in my corner this would mean nothing.