I've never been the kind of person who fits neatly into one box. Growing up, I took ballet and piano lessons but could just as easily be found on the field playing soccer or softball. After piano, the first instrument I picked up was the trumpet—but I quickly moved on to the saxophone, then the French horn. In middle school, I learned the flute, and by high school, I switched to the clarinet when my orthodontic braces made playing brass instruments a bit painful.

For a long time, I believed my path was clear: I was meant to be a band or chorus teacher. I went to college to pursue a Music Education degree and taught private piano lessons for years. But life has a funny way of redirecting us. I eventually found myself working at a manufacturing company, where I discovered unexpected creativity in making springs (yes, like boing-boing). It was hard work—but wonderfully satisfying—and I'm proud of the years I spent there.

Life hasn't always gone the way I planned, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that hard times don't last forever. Every struggle, detour, and setback has shaped me, and I've come to see those challenges as critical to my growth. After all, we can't fully appreciate the good without understanding its opposite.

That's the heart of everything I write—whether it's helping you find the words to navigate tough social situations or telling stories about characters who find their inner strength when the odds feel stacked against them. Struggle is a verb—it's the act of pushing through, rising up, and discovering you're stronger than you ever realized.

I'm so glad you're here. I hope my words—whether through my guidebook or my novel—help you find your own light.