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Buried underneath stacks of papers and piles of books during law school, I knew deep inside I would be a writer. One day. My fear of living as a “starving artist” kept me from pursuing that path, so I wasn’t sure how I’d realize my dream. After graduating law school, I served as a clerk for a federal judge. I then worked in a litigation firm before moving in-house to a university where I specialized in higher education law.
Near the end of 2004, I took six weeks off my life. I unplugged the television, logged off e-mail, and didn't answer the phone. I immersed myself in beach walks, silence, and solitude. I read poetry (well, one poem). I went to therapy. I wrote until my arm was nearly dangling by a tendon. In short, I spent six weeks watering my soul. I had a very thirsty soul! Near the end of my sabbatical I traveled to the outer banks of Massachusetts and buried myself deep in the dune grass on the sand. It was there, of all places, that I finally found my guts. I faced the fact that even though I was a lawyer, I wasn’t really a lawyer. So I returned to California and wrapped up the odds and ends of my life as an attorney. Then I launched a new career as a freelance writer. The handsome guy in the picture is my husband Ron. We currently live in Northern Virginia with our dog Callie.
