For books I’ve written and published, both print and digital, click here.
For other offerings, including letter-based e-courses and more, click here.
“Your last letter hit me in a way I didn’t think was possible. Everything you write is like a thousand bells ringing into my soul.”
Sabrina Lanzoni Gonçalves, in response to Maybe like a dandelion
The letter is not a quick-dose antidote for anything.
It’s an experience. Your experience, receiving mine: my story, my experience.
If you’re looking for simple answers, you won’t find them here.
“Get your floaties. We’re going deep.”
– the motto of the letter, according to one reader
So what is the letter, anyway…?
The letter is where I bare myself, to the bones, to share how I’m growing, learning, and waking up along with you.
I write about fears. I write about learning to let go.
The letter is damn hard to describe until you’ve experienced it yourself, but the general consensus of the wonderful individuals who read the letter is that what they love most about the letter is the way I write with complete, bare-bones honesty. (For real life experiences of the letter, scroll down.)
It’s not for everyone. (And I don’t want it to be.)
One reader christened me, writing to the letter, as “The Epiphany Machine.”
As for logistics, I write to the letter several times a month, bearing the gift of usually one to several thousand words. There is no archive. I let go of each letter after I’ve let it out into the wild. When you subscribe, you’ll receive the most recent letter and all letters thereafter.
The letter is $20 monthly, determined by the average of reader survey responses.
Leave anytime you please.
Thank you for sharing this journey with me.
5 reasons to join the letter:
“Thank you for the letter. Wow, that was awesome. I had time this morning since I started a little bit later than usual, so I had a whole teapot while reading it…
Sometimes I wonder if I’d still be peaceful and happy if my boyfriend left me. Sometimes I think of how I had found peace between my ex-boyfriend and him, and how I lost it to my ED and depression. I’m afraid I’m never gonna get it back. I’m afraid I’ll just have short happy moments like I’m having from time to time, and won’t feel sustained happiness anymore. I’m afraid that if I’m not happy right now, I’ll hit rock bottom if he leaves…
But then… I realize: What if? What if I never find myself in this old state of happiness… that’s old anyway? What if I build for myself a new happiness that suits what I am now, what I have become since then? What if it’s not even happiness that I’m looking for, but a sense of purpose and trust and confidence? What if I hit rock bottom anyway? What if I kept trying to live my dreams?
Thanks for making me feel part of something. Thanks for reminding me that the questions I ask myself are meaningful and important.”
Aimée Lévesque, in response to Werewolves
“I am amazed at your work yet again! This letter struck me with such force it took the wind right out of my pipes and made my brain whirl.”
Mrs. Bee, in response to holes, shoes, and shadows
“Thank you for sharing your story. You’ve inspired me. Your writing has a way of bringing pollen into the house or something. Damn hay fever… where are the tissues?
Your words drew me into your world, allowed me to live it with you, and feel some of what you felt. It was amazing.”
Alan Howard, in response to The Tiniest Snowflakes I Had Ever Seen
“One of the best purchases I have ever made.”
Lauren Piko, within one week of subscribing to the Letter
“Your Tour de Force.
See, when you do this, when you confront yourself and all, and you share that with people, it has power. Wildfire.
So thank you thank you thank you, for your fire.”
Eric Roberts, in response to Weakness