My book, Sunlight on My Shadow, begged to be written. It sat there for years, this quiet weight on my heart. It was a story bound in secrecy that was there yet obscured by years of neglect.

It was oppressive holding this story inside of me.

So about 5 years ago, I started tapping on the keyboard. The words flowed easily but when I thought of anyone reading what I wrote, I cringed and the words dried up. So I just wrote it for myself, pretending no one would ever read it. It seemed the only way to keep the words flowing onto the page and I knew the writing was good for my heart and soul.