What the actual #%*¥. Seriously, UPS? Seriously? Why is everything so hard right now? This past week has felt like a cosmic joke with terrible timing. My shipment of books for an upcoming book fair arrived soaked—UPS left the boxes sitting in a puddle on my porch. Half the inventory? Ruined.

I’ve been thinking about one of my favorite songs of all time: The Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel. Every time I revisit it, I’m struck by how ancient it feels. Like scripture written for a world that didn’t exist yet, but somehow predicted ours perfectly.

There’s a moment in Last of the Mohicans that has lived inside me for decades. The younger daughter stands on the edge of a cliff, the music rising like a heartbeat. She looks at the man who intends to take her. His hand outstretched. Then back at the chasm behind her. She hesitates. She chooses. She jumps. That scene carved itself into me. That breath‑held, soul‑splitting moment is my benchmark for a great story.

I have a confession. Some days, the state of the world feels so bleak that I catch myself wishing something dramatic would shake society awake. Something that would force us to confront the widening gulf between the haves and the have-nots. The United States is one of the wealthiest nations on the planet, yet millions of people struggle just to survive. It’s heartbreaking, and yes, it makes me angry.

Self‑correcting stops so many people from ever expressing themselves. I’ve known people who desperately wanted to write but couldn’t bring themselves to put down a single sentence out of fear of criticism. And honestly, the world encourages this. We worship materialism. Only things that make money are considered valuable. Creativity becomes a commodity instead of a calling. But this is exactly when you have to dig deep, awaken your inner rebel, and do it anyway.

Everywhere I look, I see assimilation: on social media, in churches, in institutions across the globe. People becoming like each other to fit in, smoothing out their edges until nothing unique remains. I’ve never understood how they do it.

Soul‑divergent writers create from emotional truth, lived experience, and inner rhythm. Learn what it means to stay authentic in a world pushing for sameness.

I can write for 16 hours straight all weekend long, churning out 10k words a day. No problem. I can write a 90,000k word novel in two and a half weeks. I can pen and then edit project after project with ease. But the moment I have to construct three sentences about who I am, I am stumped! I can write about anything—but me. I imbue so much of myself into my stories that there isn’t much left, and what remains are the parts I don’t want anyone to see, not even myself. i wish I

Writing fiction is not just a simple task; it's an emotional journey. Many writers pour their hearts into the stories they create, sharing narratives that entertain and reveal their vulnerabilities. In my experience, however, I discovered that connecting with my creative spirit while keeping an emotional distance was crucial for developing my authentic voice and maintaining my sanity! This post captures my journey to strike that delicate balance, enabling me to gain confidenc

Books I read as a kid I have been thinking about my influences lately. Going back to the very beginning. As a poor, home-schooled kid growing up in the eighties, these were my only books to read at home—a gift from my grandmother. Authors Martha Finley (1867-1905) and Grace Livingston Hill (1887-1947). Great drama never goes out of style. This last week, I wrote two stories and submitted them to a 2025 Writing Contest. It's always nice to have an excuse to write a new story!