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As I start typing this, it is 11:59pm on the 30th December 2019. I'm sure it will be a lot later by the time I've finished.

The teenage years of this millennium brought me two beautiful children, a house, and a dog or two. Then 2019 brought me an unexpected desire to write. I never believed people when they said they had a passion for something, when they said it crawled under their skin and beat against their thoughts if they tried to stop. That there was no stopping. I never believed authors when they said their characters told their own stories. Turns out I was wrong on both counts.

One day in February, I sat down with a pen in my hand and my daughter's unused math book balanced on my knees, and thought, I know, I'll write down that story that's been stuck in my head for the last twenty years.

So I did.

Ten months later, I sit here in the office my husband built once it seemed that this writing thing was a permanent fixture in our lives. I have one manuscript nearly ready to shove off the cliff and see if it can truly fly, the sequel (oh gosh, I love the sequel) is drafted, and when I think about 2020 and what it might bring, my heart beats just a little faster.

So here's to a new decade, and it being filled with hope and success, and maybe an answer to the question, is this good enough? Because Evaria, Eris, and Malahei are so very close to being ready to play.

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