I’ve always made up stories. In fact, my earliest memory is of myself in a tree house at a family reunion, making up a story about bad guys kidnapping everyone and how it was up to me to save them. I started writing my stories down and compiling them into a monthly newsletter when I was twelve. When, years later, I suddenly found myself with a published book in my hands, which other people were presumably going to read, the responsibility of my words suddenly came home to me. I believe God gives all of us a gift (or gifts). It’s our responsibility—and our privilege—to then give that gift back. I feel blessed every day to wake up and realize I get to do this writing gig for a living.

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