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Why I Write

writing desk in front of a window at night with chapter 1 on the computer screen

You know those kids who fill notebook after notebook with doodles and half-finished stories? Yeah, that was me. I was the one scribbling in the margins of biology homework because, let’s face it, dissecting frogs was never as exciting as building worlds and creating fictional characters. Little did I know those messy, half-baked stories were the start of something bigger.

Writing, for me, has always been a way to make sense of the chaos swirling in my brain. It’s cheaper than therapy and a lot less awkward than trying to explain my life to a stranger on a couch. Plus, I’ve realized that if I don’t write things down, my memory is about as reliable as a satellite signal during a thunderstorm. 

But beyond that, I write because I love connecting with people—whether it’s through a cozy mystery or a kid’s book about a dog with a big personality. My faith plays a role in that too. I mean, if I believe we’re all here for a reason, shouldn’t I use my talents to bring people together? I’m not exactly parting seas or feeding multitudes, but hey, if my stories can make someone laugh, cry, or think differently about the world, I’ll call that a win.

What if this is the moment where our stories are meant to collide?

And you know how people-watching in a crowded space makes you wonder about the random lives of strangers? Writing lets me take that curiosity to the next level. It’s like when I hear someone say, “Everything happens for a reason,” and my inner storyteller thinks, Yeah, but what’s their reason? I often think about the biblical line from Esther: “Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.” Writing helps me ask, What if this is the moment where our stories are meant to collide?

Writing cozy mysteries made me happy for several years until one day I realized something: Where were the stories that showed Deaf characters as the heroes, the problem-solvers, the ones having all the fun? As an ASL interpreter for 30 years, I’ve seen firsthand how underrepresented Deaf culture is in literature. And I’m not talking about the occasional Deaf character in the background—I mean real stories where they take center stage. That’s when Duke the Deaf Dog showed up, wagging his tail and demanding to be the star of my books.

A young boy sitting in a comfy chair reading Farts Make Noise

Duke is a conversation starter, a bridge between worlds, a four-legged advocate for access and belonging. Through Duke’s adventures, kids (and let’s be real, adults too) get a glimpse into the vibrant Deaf community, discovering its strong culture, humor, and unique visual way of experiencing the world. Making that happen through writing feels like part of my purpose, too.

I write because it’s what I’m meant to do. It’s how I connect, how I make sense of the world, and how I (hopefully) build a world where every child, whether they’re learning ASL or just starting to notice the richness of human diversity, feels a part of something bigger. Writing is my way of making sure that no one feels left out of the narrative. So if I can make you laugh, cry, or stay up way past your bedtime with a good book, I’d say I’m doing something right.  Because when we tell stories that matter, we make room for everyone to feel seen, heard, and absolutely, unapologetically, like they belong.


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