love
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People often ask why my book opens with a woman walking away from the life she thought she would have. Why I chose to begin with a departure instead of a beginning. Why I started with heartbreak instead of hope. The truth is simple:Her story, although vastly different from mine, was born from a place…
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My first book opens with a woman standing at the edge of a life she no longer recognizes. Pregnant. Exhausted. Heartbroken. And carrying the weight of a future she never imagined she’d have to face alone. She leaves the life she thought she would build with her husband — the life she planned, prayed for,…
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There’s a particular kind of fear that rises when you start writing a story that lives close to your own wounds. It’s not the fear of being judged or misunderstood — though that’s there too. It’s something deeper. Something quieter. Something that feels like standing at the edge of a truth you’ve spent years learning…
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For a long time, my life was built around survival. Not in a dramatic sense, but in the everyday way that mothers know too well — the kind of survival that requires you to keep moving even when you’re exhausted, to keep showing up even when you’re stretched thin, to keep choosing your children even…
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I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. Before I knew what craft was, before I understood genre or structure or audience, I knew how to take a feeling and turn it into words. I knew how to pick up a pencil and make sense of the world by shaping it into sentences.…
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On the first morning of every month, I stand at my front door with a pinch of cinnamon in my hand. I pause, breathe, whisper a quiet prayer, and blow it across the threshold. It’s a simple act — soft, almost invisible — but it carries a weight that feels familiar. People might see it…
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There are moments in life that don’t look like much from the outside — a breath taken on a balcony, a hand resting on a railing, a pause before speaking — but something in them feels holy. Not in a ceremonial way. Not in a way that needs candles or rituals or perfect words. Just……
Leigh C. Mitchell 