Two hurricanes in three weeks—life has been hectic. Seeing the images of the destruction caused by two hurricanes is saddening, especially when you see the pain in the eyes of your neighbors. Places I loved in Wilmington are now gone. North Carolina has changed, but one thing has remained the same: the strength of
October is a very important month to me. When I was ten, my Grandma Teri was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. She battled it on and off for ten years before she finally succumbed to it. I remember sitting in her living room when she told the family about her diagnosis, and not understanding what was
Life is about making memories…in July, I decided that I was going to challenge myself, and try to do something I have never done before each month. In September, I decided I was going to go to my first Penn State football game. I had been to college football games before—I worked concessions at NC
This post is going to be vulnerable and honest. I have struggled with weight and body image since I was a teenager. I know this isn’t unusual for most women (that’s part of the reason Gemi is a little chubby at the beginning of the novel, I wanted her to be relatable to my audience).
Next week is my annual Dierks Bentley concert, and if you know anything about me, this is the concert I look forward to every year. I have seen him multiple times. And every year is better in the year before. My mom and I go to the VIP every year, and we have a blast.
Recently, I was reading a book by Brene Brown about vulnerability. I thought there was no better way to connect with my readers than to be vulnerable with them. When you’re a writer, you base your stories/characters on what you know. So, naturally, characters come from you, or people you know. Gemi is somewhat like
I love music. Music is in my soul. I listen to it pretty much from the moment I get up to the moment I go to bed. Don’t get me wrong, I love my quiet time, but music inspires me, and makes me feel emotions in a non-logical way. I am a very logical thinker,
I don’t tell many people this—not because I am embarrassed, but if people don’t ask, I don’t feel like I need to tell them. I was born with a cleft nose. From what I understand, it’s a cleft lip or palette that didn’t form all the way. So, when I was born, I was born
Yesterday, I opened my writing chest, and on top was this picture… It’s hard to believe it’s been 11 years. I don’t feel like it’s been that long, or that I am an 11 year graduate. Maybe it’s because I don’t age, or because I believe that age is just a number. I do not
