A long time ago, I wanted to be a writer. I pondered pursuing writing as a career, but the pragmatist in me took the safer path, and became… an accountant. After a few years, I had to do something more. More amazing, more wild, more living. So I ran away to China. What else could I do? It was total reinvention or bust.

Over a lot of time and experiences, I played around with different gigs – but the roads always led back to writing. Writing – the love that I broke up with because I was silly and young. I didn’t know that it was embedded into my soul all the while and never left.  So here I am, at its door, asking to be let in, asking to be forgiven for being late. I’ve brought my heart this time, and a whole lot of stories – let’s get started.