If my own journey to becoming an author wasn’t enough to disprove my childhood view of authors being larger than life, and instead are just regular people, meeting fellow authors from my area solidified it. 

I’m 100% aware that authors from across the pond use words and terms differently than those of us residing in The States, but I can’t seem to ignore the differences long enough to get sucked into the novels.

When I started writing Breathing Freely, I had a good idea of how the story was going to go. The major plot points were tucked neatly inside a mental folder. I simply had to get Wes and Lou to those chapters. 

Then, I got to know them, these characters I’d created, and boy were they opinionated.

Watching the way Breathing Freely has made its way into the world has been fascinating.

Isn’t it neat how music and books both tell stories? Some are happy and you find yourself tapping along or cheering for a certain character. While others are filled with a melancholy so deep you wipe away tears and feel a heaviness in your chest.

Outline. Outline. Outline.

Yeah… Tried that, and while it arguably works for most, outside of To Do/Shopping Lists, writing things out isn't an aide for my brain.

I always had this vision, a dream of a dedicated office and library, which I thought I had to have in order to put a story on paper.

I have never been more happy to be proven wrong.

We rarely recognize the moments that change us while they’re happening.

Once Breathing Freely was live for sales on books.by/haleighmathis, the last thing on my mind was, “How do I spread the word?“ Though, it was probably something I should have sat down and put serious thought into.

The journey to become the woman I am today was not always Live, Laugh, Love. It was more along the lines of blood, sweat, and tears.

Stories, reflections, and notes from the writing desk.