Well guys, I’m movin’ on out. And up. I’m 13 days away from turning 30, and I’m SUPER excited to say this age will bring a brand new transition in not only my life but in my future business life–I’m closing up shop here on the blog, A Novel Quest.

This is not goodbye.


You ever get the feeling as you age, that you’re entering into this period of unlearning all the false beliefs you had about yourself growing up? I’m starting to feel this great unlearning of all of the things I used to falsely believe about myself and life in general when I was younger.


I’m having a really terrific week and day and life in general. Writing about my twenties these past few days has really helped me realize that I’m done with all of that. It’s really given me so much love and perspective on the past ten years, and I can’t thank you enough for accompanying me on this journey! I really want to ease into the goodness of my upcoming thirties now, and all of the things I’m bringing with me into this new decade.


I like to think of my mid-twenties as the ‘dark ages’ of my life. It was definitely a mid-twenties slump. The light within me was clouded with a delusional need for love and acceptance, which left me tearful and alone.


I can still smell the campfire smoke. We were all gathered around the fire pit, sitting in camping chairs, my friend Peter playing Pink Floyd on his acoustic guitar.

Blue plastic cups filled with sugary margarita mixes. Dirt between my toes. Skinny. Wild hair.

Cycles of Seven

It’s easy to think of each year as a chapter in our lives. Personally, each New Year’s Eve I feel like I’m closing a book rather than a chapter. But something far more beautiful than a book is evolving over each period of our lives, and it’s longer than a year.


(I flubbed the math. I’m actually 19 days away from 30, not 20, so we’re skipping a day. English majors can’t count properly, apparently.) 

You are who you are and that’s it.

I am a writer. It’s time to face the music with that fact. I’ve always been afraid to tell people I’m a writer, because I didn’t like the attention or the follow up questions.


Your twenties just aren’t complete until you’ve thrown up in at least one plate of pancakes.

At Denny’s.

After drinking a lot of some orange drink called Fuzzy Navel.