Ink Worthy Books

This was taken just over two years ago. It was winter and I was trying to soak up as much sun as I could.

I remember this moment well. It was a moment where I felt such deep and immense love.

I was in deep creation mode for what I consider to be my legacy work—my Soulful Nonfiction School.

But it wasn’t called that yet. In fact, it was during this period of creation that I stumbled upon a realization that would completely shift how I do this work.

All around me, the publishing industry glorified accolades. Awards and publishing deals and speaking gigs all were signs of success for published authors.

And to get you there, the internet could find you dozens of programs with hyped up promises: “step-by-step program, results guaranteed, proven process, from idea to bestseller in 30 days.”

But one thing was missing, and it was something that had been making a loud splash in my world as of late, thus making its lack of presence in the publishing industry quite stark:

—> SOUL

You know, that stuff that makes the words from a book jump off the page and into your heart. That substance that has you clutching your chest and fighting off tears as you realize that you are truly not alone, that someone understands you, that you are loved.

It’s what makes books so damn powerful, but no one seemed to be talking about it. They were focused on the surface-level results while I was taking clients on a journey to their depths and pulling up pages and pages of magic.

It was in that sunny moment that SOULFUL NONFICTION was born.

Now, I can’t claim to be the original creator of that phrase—but it is what my clients come to me to write.

And it’s what we need more of if we aim to make this place a happier, healthier world.

Less surface, more depth.
Less stats, more soul.
Less “proven path” following, more trusting your heart to say what needs to be said.

And as I am not a great rule follower anyway, I have been and will continue to lead the charge against the grain and over unbeaten ground until we, collectively, start getting some s**t right around here.

In case you’d like to join me, the more the merrier.

About 15 years ago, I was pregnant with my third child.

It was May, and we had a wedding to go to, tasking me with the miserable chore of finding something nice to wear.

So there I stood that morning, in my walk-in closet throwing a fit.

I was eventually convinced that I would look “fine” in anything, so that’s what I wore: anything. It was dumb and I hated it, but at least I was dressed.

I couldn’t get out of that wedding fast enough. After returning home, I changed back into my usual weekend attire and decided I needed a little retail therapy to cheer me up.

There was really only one place that would do the trick: the pet shop.

I pulled up, walked in, and there she was: a tiny white fluffball with stunning blue eyes and a sweet little gray nose. I don’t recall seeing anything else but her before running to find a clerk to help me open the cage so I could hold her.

She was perfect, and I fell instantly in love.

Soon, we were on the road home, me and my emotional impulse purchase who was eventually given the name Layla Gray.

She was so prim and proper. A serious stunner, elegant and proud. She took no s**t from anyone, and she guarded our family so well. Layla was smart as hell, and no matter how many times I tried, I could never get her to fall for any of those stupid cat tricks. God I loved her. Sassy, smart, beautiful.

But mostly, Layla was a love bug, and took every opportunity to trade loud purrs and head bumps for treats or snuggles from all of us.

She was the most precious friend I’ve ever had, and, sadly, she left me yesterday. I am absolutely crushed, but I feel so blessed to have had her in my life for all these years, and I’m so thankful I was able to comfort her while she took her last breath.

I will miss her dearly.

I love you sweet Layla Lady. Thank you for your precious heart and your tender love. We were so blessed to have loved and known you.

💖💖💖