About Me

Introversion: A Description

I’m getting the impression that there’s a lot of misinformation floating around about what introversion is, so I’m going to straighten the record here:

Introversion is NOT a mental illness, social anxiety, or social awkwardness.

In broad strokes, introversion and extroversion are about your “mental locus” — are ideas processed inwardly or outwardly.

In application, this means:

Moving through transitions at a slower pace.

My extroverted husband wakes up and jumps right into the day without missing a beat. I prefer to lie in bed for awhile, then move to the couch with a cup of coffee. Once I have finished a satisfactory amount of thinking, then I get up and do stuff.

I also have to work myself up to going to the grocery store, the pool, neighborhood BBQs, returning home — anything that’s a transition from one thing to another. Even with places and activities that I adore.

Taking extra effort to mentally process everything thoroughly.

This is where being drained by social interactions comes into play.

When I talk to people, I listen to not only their words, but also their tone of voice. I pay extra attention to their body language and facial expressions as well, then carefully analyze everything to read into the person as much as possible. The result is that I tend to pick up on subtle clues much earlier than others, but it takes a lot of energy.

With groups, there’s an overwhelming number of things to analyze, so I prefer to check myself into the corner instead. I still talk to individuals who wander over, but I can’t handle THE GROUP as a whole.

New people present a variety of unknowns, so it takes additional energy to figure them out — there’s a definite “warm up” period.

Phone conversations rob me of all the visual cues I use to read people, and are consequently stressful.

Reading people lets me know what I can expect from them, so I’m not abruptly thrust into an unexpected situation without having enough time to process it.

Muted external expressions.

I’m frequently so caught up in my head that I forget to show anything on my face, so I tend to have a blank look most of the time.

I also prefer to simply state, “That makes me mad,” rather than scowling or punching, because I’m not outwardly focused enough to derive any sort of satisfaction from external expressions.

This tends to cause friction with people, because they assume that if something isn’t happening plainly out in the open, then it isn’t happening at all.

And they get weirded out by my glacial stare.

A rich internal world — which is used to forge deep connections with others.

I like my inner world — I like it so much, I write novels about it. For me, writing is far more expressive of my heart and soul than talking is, so it means more to me to have someone read my work than to have someone listen to me talk.

All of the ideas I come across are ultimately used to enrich my internal world, and I’m deeply attracted to people who can provide me with new ideas to work with. I love knowing what people actually think as individuals, and I want to know about their internal world.

And frankly, I’m snobbish enough to prefer my own thoughts over listening to someone recap the latest Disney movie. Uh huh. There’s a dragon. How nice. I could have just read the blurb on IMDB, without expending all of that energy on coming out here and talking to you.

I’d much rather listen to someone gripe about their personal problems, because at least it’s a subject that they’re emotionally attached to.

So, when someone describes themself as “introverted,” don’t assume that means they’re single, depressed, and socially awkward.

I’m actually quite gregarious with mah peeps — the people that I know well and feel comfortable around.

And no, I don’t need to break out of my shell or expand my comfort zone.

I’m fine the way I am.

Stolen from the ‘net
About Writing, Light Eternal

About Light Eternal


I think that the best way to describe Light Eternal is as a Gnostic romance. Or, as my husband so succinctly put it, I studied up on Gnosticism so I could write trashy fanfiction about it.

I like fantasy romance, and most of my ideas revolve around the simplicity of two people in love. One of my biggest disappointments with the romance genre (and fiction in general) is that very few of them start with marriage, which, in my personal experience, is when I would say the real adventure begins. My novels don’t revolve around the question of “Will they get together?” but rather, “What are they willing to do to stay together?”

I also like magic and larger-than-life characters, so with a touch of amusement I would say that I ascribe to the “One-Punch Man” style of storytelling. The conflict isn’t about how they are going to be strong enough to win, but is instead an almost human interest exploration of what life would be like as the strongest, smartest, etc.

Light Eternal also contains a lot of pagan elements, including soul retrievals and spiritual parasites. The story is about gods and goddesses surrounded by a rich mythology, verging on spiritual fiction. Because there is a strong theme of Light versus Dark, there are a lot of Gothic and horror moments as well.

Finally, it is a novella about trauma, mental health, and dissociation. It illustrates the damage that traumatic events can cause, and the struggle to continue on with life afterward.

It is the best fictional Gnostic romance book out there!

Available for free with Kindle Unlimited

About Me

The Past

When I was a kid, I used to pin my bright yellow blanket around my shoulders (the perfect universal costume, in my humble opinion) and play act having conversations with the characters from my favorite novels. I loved those hours I spent in my room, exploring worlds and “interacting” with Martin the Warrior and Prince Caspian.

One day when I turned ten, I got hold of some lined paper, picked up my favorite maroon marker, and started writing those conversations down. Truthfully I didn’t understand paragraphs back then, or quotation marks for that matter, but that solid block of text was the beginning of my dream.

As I grew, I joined Elfwood and Fictionpress, swapped stories with other teenagers online, took creative writing classes all through high school, and majored in creative writing in college. For me, there were no other career options — I was a writer.

Then life happened.

Somehow, the agonizing moments seamlessly blended into becoming a wife and mother of three, and before I knew it the better part of a decade had passed.

But you know what? Writing is the only thing that gives my life a deeper sense of meaning outside of the ordinary. What would be the point of all the pain and joy if those emotions stayed secretly locked up inside my own head? Sometimes it seems like it’s the only way I can peacefully live with the past.

I have my days of dark depression, when demons loom over me and whisper bleak things in my ear, leaving me too paralyzed to think. Then the sun shines again, I find a quiet moment nestled between games and chores, and I write.

I will always be a writer.

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About Me



I have problems.

I know, right? A writer with problems? Like that’s never happened before.

I’m the sort that’s always laughing at myself, because learning how to laugh was the only way to survive. So when I come across pictures like this, I usually get a good chuckle.

Yep, that’s me. You have no idea how emotionally messed up I am.

Eight years ago I realized that a certain state of brokenness was utterly essential for writing. You can’t be completely incapacitated, but you also can’t just talk about it with a good friend over a cup of tea to solve a problem — it needs to be beyond what you can ordinarily express.

It turns into creativity.

And you cannot write without creativity.