Now, for the Hard Part

A quick update on Disobedient Women, headed to print

I’ve been trying to write books since I was in third grade, but somewhere along the way got it into my head that becoming an author wasn’t something people like me could realistically do. I wound through school, got jobs that mattered but never quite fulfilled the vital urge to write that’s been part of me almost as long as I’ve loved reading books.

Then, many years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, it dawned on me that I would want that child to grow up willing to chase his dreams, however far-fetched they seemed. This meant I shouldn’t model leaving my own dreams deferred. So, I started writing a novel, then freelancing to build clips with my byline. Either by accident or because it was inevitable, I became a full-time writer. I felt compelled to show him a version of myself willing to be brave.

Today, that child turns fourteen. He’s kind, gentle, taller than me now, and in the last year, has turned into quite a poet.

He's also in a middling place, no longer a child, not quite an adult. Potential just pours out of him. I can see him going so many different directions as he learns more about himself. As he becomes who he will be.