Hello,
​
First off, I never meant to become an author. I grew up with a strong work ethic on a farm in a rural Montanan community and had a typical dream of becoming a great athlete or a famous rock musician, as I was heavily involved with sports and music. Back then, I was excited for what looked to be a bright future. But, long story short, things didn't turn out that way, and writing didn't even cross my mind until it was one of the only saving graces I could find.
​
For more than three decades, I have been cursed with a panic disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder after a group of five men followed me home one night and beat me within an inch of my life with a baseball bat. I was told by police that the attack I endured was allegedly an initiation for one of the perpetrators to become a member of a violent gang and that I happened to be the unlucky individual that this group chose. I was medicated shortly after to treat the residual effects of this attack. Then, years down the road, healthcare providers thought it best to change those medications, despite their ongoing effectiveness. That's when a whole new set of problems began.
​
The first adverse reaction happened in 2016, when I had a seizure while driving. I was left with a broken back, yet another concussion, and a totaled car, but fortunately, no one else was injured. My next reaction episode occurred in 2018, while I was caring for my father; I fell while walking into his home with food. With my arms full, I tripped, and the first thing to hit the floor at an alarming speed was my forehead. This fall resulted in my 6th concussion, a skull fracture, and some brain damage—which knocked the abilities to walk and speak right out of me. Due to the extent of these injuries, I was placed in a local nursing home's transitional center, and that felt like a prison to me.
​
After a lot of hard work, I was ultimately released in two months' time. Because of my remaining unsteadiness, only two weeks passed before I had another horrible fall. This time, I protected my head, but that resulted in a torn shoulder that had to be surgically replaced by a new metal shoulder that was a lot weaker than the old one. This event landed me back into another nursing home's transitional center for nearly all of 2019.
​
In this nursing home, there was a lone communal computer in the library. Since most of the other residents of this facility were in bed by 8:00 P.M., I'd pass time in the evenings by working on this computer as a form of physical therapy in order to strengthen my arm and keep my mind sharp. I started out by writing about family genealogy, which led me into writing about a knight discovered in my family history. A story began to evolve, and in sharing my excitement with my voice therapist, he explained that I could make this story into a book. He was beyond encouraging and took the time to guide the project's next steps, which ultimately resulted in my first novel, A Knight's Journey.
​​
When I was finally released from the second nursing home, I moved in with my old college roommate in a larger city, which provided more direct access to the healthcare resources necessary for my rehabilitation. I could not drive, and transit options were limited, so I had to rely on taxis in order to get to my many doctor's appointments. But due to inconsistent availability, I would often sit in hospital waiting rooms for up to 4 hours, at times, awaiting a ride back home. At a certain point, these stretches grew to be expected, so I started carrying a yellow legal pad to pass the time with writing. Eventually, toting around the legal pad became a habit. I would write throughout the day, and then I would type out what I had scrawled on the page once I got home in the evening. Eventually, I moved back to continue caring for my father, but this time I had finished writing my second novel, The Soldiers Who Ate Rattlesnakes.
​
I'll be the first to admit that my novels are not perfect. When I first started writing, I was still pretty messed up in the mind, and it shows. There are some grammatical errors, and the writing can be clunky at times. However, I couldn't wait to put myself out there, so I've decided to share my vulnerabilities with writing through my works rather than forcing polished products. I find it's a good demonstration of how not letting the errors stand in the way can still result in groundbreaking work. Of course, becoming stronger and more confident in the power of my mind helped with that too. Bottom line: I didn't give up! I don't consider my trials and tribulations to be inspirational. Rather, I'm sharing these in efforts to show how the stories inside me have come to life so far, to grow in authenticity, to better myself, and to inspire others who feel out of control of their lives. If there's a single takeaway here, it's this: Never give up, and don't be afraid to transition yourself into something new and fresh. Always strive to become better, even if you have to fight for it!
​
Take care,
