*This article originally appeared on Kirkus Review
I’ve always been a writer. There aren’t many absolutes in my life, but this much I’ve always known. I’m pretty sure I was a writer before I ever knew what the word meant. I feel like it’s in my DNA.
After graduating with a journalism degree, I worked as a television news writer and producer, first at the CBS affiliate in San Diego, and then at a station up in Los Angeles. For a time, I enjoyed it, then gradually, my writing started to feel mechanical, my creativity drained. By the time I finally got laid off, it felt more like an act of divine intervention than misfortune.
I spent the next several years trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I still wanted to be a writer—I just didn’t know what I wanted to write. I also knew it was time to take the leap and follow my dream. I started my first novel, a forensic paranormal thriller titled While the Savage Sleeps, and page-by-page felt my passion for the written word springing back to life.
Then, life threw me a curve.
After graduating with a journalism degree, I worked as a television news writer and producer, first at the CBS affiliate in San Diego, and then at a station up in Los Angeles. For a time, I enjoyed it, then gradually, my writing started to feel mechanical, my creativity drained. By the time I finally got laid off, it felt more like an act of divine intervention than misfortune.
I spent the next several years trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I still wanted to be a writer—I just didn’t know what I wanted to write. I also knew it was time to take the leap and follow my dream. I started my first novel, a forensic paranormal thriller titled While the Savage Sleeps, and page-by-page felt my passion for the written word springing back to life.
Then, life threw me a curve.