While school came relatively easy to me, life post-high school graduation did not.

I graduated at seventeen, without the first clue as to what to do with the rest of my life. I had hobbies & interests growing up, of course—primarily writing—but I hadn’t the first idea how to turn that into a career. At the time, I thought the only degrees available to pursue for writers were either Journalism or English and I wasn’t interested in either option. After working on the school newspaper, I knew I didn’t want to be a journalist, chasing down leads or making edits & layouts; and beyond teaching, I didn’t know what other opportunities an English degree could even provide. Like a lot of kids, I played “Teacher” as a child, although I wasn’t overly keen on the idea of being a teacher—particularly because, having had teachers in my family, I knew how overworked, under-appreciated and extremely underpaid the profession is in the United States. All I knew for certain was that I wanted to write stories that connected people to the past. I wanted to show readers that, although it might be ancient history to us, it’s still relevant to today’s world and still influences us and our decisions.

In the spring of 2024, I was a year post-graduation, having launched my virtual design business, yet struggling to define how, exactly, I wanted it to function and struggling to call myself a designer. I had zero clients, zero inquiries, and my social media accounts were all stagnant and unoriginal. After three years of schooling where all the answers came effortlessly, I was feeling my way through unchartered territories once again. What I’d hoped would be a fun and creative outlet—something I could do with my time outside of work that could eventually transition to my full-time focus—was instead beginning to feel like a waste of my time. I could see bits of what I wanted my business to be: heritage-inspired, using natural elements that would stand the test of time, with a focus on slower living—glimmering in the periphery, just out of reach. But each time I sat at my desk, trying and failing to force a way forward, I was left frustrated and in tears, ready to throw in the towel.

Once upon a time, what feels like a lifetime ago, I managed & maintained a genealogical-based blog that led to writing and publishing several of my works of fiction, including self-publishing my first novel, The Children’s Field, in September of 2019. After a few months pause to breathe & regroup my thoughts, I felt ready to turn my focus to my second novel, with plans to complete a rough draft, edit and publish it in March 2021. That all came to a screeching halt Memorial Day weekend 2020, when, between trips to the hardware store and  planting a vegetable garden, my father called with the news that shattered my reality.