When I first started writing, I wanted to know everything about my characters. Who were they? What drove them? What had hurt them in the past, and what did they need now?
By the time I finished mapping them out, my heart was already sore. I couldn’t bring myself to give them any more pain.
Which—if you’re trying to write a novel—becomes a problem. No conflict, no fights, no heartbreak… no plot.
Back then, it never occurred to me that what I was really sketching out were coming-of-age stories—ones that could stand on their own, but weren’t yet novels. Because stories without conflict? They’re safe. And safe, as it turns out, is boring.
But life isn’t safe. Life is unfair. And it’s in those moments when we stumble, when we’ve been betrayed, when we try and fail and try again—that’s where the most universal truths live. That’s where unforgettable stories are born.
It took me a long time to recognize that. My own childhood was… unusual. There was trauma there, though I didn’t see it clearly until years later. Looking back, I realize the reason I resisted putting my characters through conflict was because I was chasing safety for myself.
But the universe doesn’t work like that. And novels written from a place of safety wither before they ever find their heartbeat.
Over a decade of therapy taught me how to sit with conflict, how to embrace the roller coaster of living—the terror, the joy, the grief, the laughter. Once I could face those emotions in myself, I could finally write them into my characters. Suddenly, they recognized their own agency. Courage. Integrity. The will to keep going even when they were terrified.
Some of them even became fearless. Teddy’s Heart and Siren’s Song are great examples of two types of fearless heroines.
Do I feel guilty putting them through all this? A little. But I never take away their hope. Even in their darkest hours, they laugh, they love, they keep going. That’s me on the page—because I believe hope blooms brightest when we honor and listen to our truest selves
One thing you’ll never see in my stories, though, are heroes who betray their loved ones. Cheating isn’t entertainment. It’s devastation. And that’s not the kind of pain I’ll ever put on the page.
I’d like to say I’ve got a vivid imagination, but the truth is simpler. Life has chapters. And sometimes those chapters are brutally unfair.
No one deserves to be cheated on. Not even a fictional character.





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