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Eve and Gen Ellaway turn a year old today! The idea for Eve’s story first came to me over TEN years ago, but I didn’t start writing it until the end of 2018, and finally published in 2025. This book was definitely a long time coming!
With everything going on in the world, why am I telling you about a toy goat? Because it makes me laugh. Because during those two seconds my goat is screaming, I’m not thinking about abused children or losing voting rights or people being kidnapped off our city streets.
The goat screams for all of us.
It’s that time of year again, when people set unrealistic goals that seem great while in a cheese-and-chocolate-induced haze, but suddenly feel impossible when it’s time to throw away all the sugar in the pantry or wake up at 5:30am to hit the gym before work.
While I don’t set resolutions, I do set goals throughout the year.
This is a positive story, I promise.
I’ve never been one to shy away from trying new things. Physical, mental, intellectual — very few experiences things fall into my “No” category.* So last summer when a neighbor invited me to sign up for a bike race hosted by her mountain biking group, it didn’t take much to convince me.
Little did I know at the time how much that race would change my life.
When a book is no longer carried in libraries or bookstores, people can’t read it. They can’t buy it. And the eventually publishers choose not to buy more books from that author. In order to maintain a career as a writer, these authors are forced to self-censor, to choose “less offensive” topics. To erase diversity from their books.
My brother died eight years ago, putting an end to a three-year roller coaster through hell that still doesn’t feel real. The shock of losing more than half of my immediate family fought with the relief that they were no longer suffering. That WE were no longer suffering. Because for three years my mom and I were trapped in cancer whiplash, unable to truly grieve my dad, then my sister, because there were more treatments, more scans, more prayers.
And then there wasn’t.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve had plenty of times in your life when you were faced with a decision and your gut screamed one thing while your logical ol’ brain insisted on another. Maybe you listened to that feeling in the pit of your stomach, or maybe you did whatever your brain insisted was the rational choice. Or maybe the universe aligned and there was a big neon arrow blinking “THIS IS THE WAY” so you shrugged and figured okay sure I’ll listen to my gut this time.
Two years ago I announced that I was taking a sabbatical from writing. I was burned out, exhausted, frustrated, and ready to be done with *waves hands around* all this. Initially my break was only supposed to be from marketing and social media, but shortly after I announced my break, I also stopped writing.
I rarely stop moving, and that’s been true over the past two years, but I removed the yoke that had been weighing me down and spent my time doing things I enjoyed. Reading, being outdoors, wrangling my very demanding puppy. I volunteered in my community, I started a writers’ happy hour — something I’d wanted to do since before the pandemic. I connected with old friends and met new ones. I came up with a bucket list for my 50th birthday.
Today is my 50th birthday! That’s 18,262 days if I’ve counted leap days correctly. I’ve thought about this milestone A LOT in the past year, mostly with excitement, but also with a tinge of trepidation. Each new decade has brought more wisdom, less f—s, and an increased sense that the only person I need to please is myself — and the best way to do that is to follow my passions.
A lot of authors create a playlist specifically for the book they’re writing. Sometimes the lyrics speak directly to the story, and other times it’s more the vibe of the song that fits, but we play it every time we sit down to write. After a bit, the first notes of the first song feel like slipping into comfy sweats and you’re right back in the flow of the story.