As writers, our job is to take in the world around us and to make sense of it. And how can I possibly make sense when I cannot see the country for the city, the ranch for the beach house?
Somewhere in the City

As writers, our job is to take in the world around us and to make sense of it. And how can I possibly make sense when I cannot see the country for the city, the ranch for the beach house?
I won’t get into the myriad reasons why this is the greatest job in the world, but every once in awhile, it’s necessary to take a step back and get away from the lonely office and misbehaving imaginary friends to regroup and recharge.
I don’t need a staycation or a vacation because I’m living a life I don’t want to escape from. I have freedom and opportunity. I control my work and I pick the projects I want to dedicate my time to. I work very hard, but I’m also very lucky and I know it.
The truth is, I don’t need some special date or day to set goals or plans for myself.
My family has taught me how to fight for the right to create, how to make it the most important thing in your day and your life. They have shown me that there is no direct route and how to forge my own.
I’ve definitely considered my options on more than one occasion, and there are a few places and times that call to me time and again--the Classical Greece, the Renaissance, and the Enlightenment Period.
I have been given a lot of advice. And while a great deal of it has been good (and, naturally, a great deal has been truly terrible as well,) nothing has yet come to claim the crown as these simple words from my grandfather.
The writer aesthetic is cozy. It is sleepy and comfy, it is intentionally messy buns and no makeup and stretchy jeans. It is the uniform of the rainy-day, tea-drinking, muse-chasing writer, and it is my favorite.
I had a lot of first loves. When I was a little kid, I fell in love with Simba from the Lion King and then Aladdin. I had crushes on the boys in my kindergarten class that changed from week to week, crushes on the boys in first grade, second grade and third grade. Is it any wonder I became a romance novelist?
Instead, I thought I’d write about inspiration in the kitchen and in the office. And to do that, I need to talk about the Great British Baking Show.