Unfiltered Notes

Google Docs Is Holding My Dreams Hostage Your unfinished manuscript is heavier than you admit.  Not dramatic heavy. Just… there. Sitting in your Google Docs like a quiet accusation. I know that weight. I’ve always been the kind of person who learns things fast.  If I don’t know how to do something, I will. I’ll watch the tutorials. Read the fine print. Click every button just to see what breaks. It’s half survival skill, half personality flaw.  And I genuinely love figuring things out. What I didn’t love was the feeling of almost. Almost done. Almost ready. Almost brave enough. When I was publishing my own books, I wasn’t floating around in creative bliss.  I was tired. I was overstimulated. I was working around motherhood and real life and a brain that sometimes decides we’re done for the day without asking me. There were nights I stared at the KDP dashboard and felt stupid. Like everyone else must understand this faster. Like I missed some invisible ...

This isn’t a fresh start. It’s a clearer one. I’m moving my long-form writing here. Some of it is new. Some of it is being carried over from my previous blog. All of it belongs together now, in one place, without softening the edges to make it easier to consume. This blog is where the longer pieces live. The essays, the reflections, the anger, the humor, the things that take more than a few paragraphs to say. If you’re looking for short updates, book context, or behind-the-scenes notes, those live on my main site under Unfiltered Notes on my website. This space is for depth. I’ve published three books. More are coming. There are printables, projects, and work still unfolding. None of it exists in isolation. It all comes from the same place. My son, Kaizer, is two and a half years old and autistic. Everything I make is because of him, for him, or shaped by the reality of caring for him in a world that wasn’t built for either of us. Parenting, caregiving, neurodivergence, burnout, protec...

  Lullaby, and good night, Shut the fuck off that light. No more questions, no more sound— Lay your ass straight down. Lullaby, and good night, End the chaos, kill the fight. Mom’s sanity’s on fumes— So zip it up tight. Lullaby, and good night, Don’t you dare take flight. This isn’t a circus— It’s bedtime. All right? Lullaby, and good night, No snacks, no more bites. If you want sweet dreams— Stay horizontal till light. May the night swallow your thoughts, and may your mattress trap your restless soul. Good luck, Menace. Tomorrow’s survival starts now.