You know that kid who was always sitting off to the side reading during recess in elementary
school? That was me. I never went anywhere without a book.
I brought a book to Thanksgiving dinner, to class when I was in college, and even – to my
friends’ ridicule – to a Jimmy Buffet concert. (Not surprisingly, a series of drunk guys in hats with
fins on them told me that I looked like a smart girl.) I brought novels to the hospital when I was
on call. (Don’t worry, I always took care of the patients first, but if it was quiet, I wanted to make
sure I had something to read).
I’ve been writing for almost as long as I’ve been reading, but for many years it was a thing I did
without telling anyone. Hardly any of my friends know about this part of my life, and I never
mentioned it to them. To be honest, I had imposter syndrome about my writing, and even
though I had gone to a few writers’ workshops and received positive feedback, I never thought
about it as a real thing that I could do openly.
Then the pandemic happened. Like many healthcare professionals, I worked long hours in risky
situations for almost a year before being able to get the first COVID vaccine. It was terrifying,
and made me re-evaluate my life. Was I happy? Was I doing all the things I wanted to do when I
was young?
Like many people, especially in healthcare, I came out of the COVID-19 pandemic with some
scars. But the silver lining was that I also realized that life was short and we should all embrace
the things that made us happy. For me, that was putting more energy and intention into writing. I
decided to lean into my writing more and publish these two books – both written pre-COVID, but
edited and reshaped in the years since – and see if they find readers.
If one of them has found you, then I’m glad. Thank you for reading.