I used to think writing was supposed to be a solitary act — just me, my notebook, and maybe a cup of tea. And while there is magic in those quiet, tucked-away moments, I’ve learned something I wish I’d known years ago: stories grow stronger when they’re held in community. Whether it’s through a one-on-one brainstorming session with a trusted author friend, a late-night chat about plot holes, or connecting with readers at a book festival, I’ve discovered that building a writing community is less about selling books and more about finding your people.

There are seasons when writing feels like flying. And there are seasons when writing feels like clawing your way through fog. This post is for the latter. Whether you’re navigating burnout, low energy, high sensitivity, emotional overload, or just the foggy numbness that sometimes rolls in unannounced… this is how I write when it feels like I can’t.

Let me start by being honest: I don’t actually feel like I balance anything. Not in the color-coded, Pinterest-perfect kind of way. More often than not, I feel like I’m dancing between worlds… one moment writing dialogue in my head, the next remembering I forgot to thaw the chicken. I hyperfocus on my projects (especially when I’m in deep creative mode like filming), and when that happens… everything else drops.

Over the years, I’ve come to see storytelling not just as something I do, but as something that does something to me. It heals me. It guides me. It holds a mirror up to the parts of myself I’m still learning to love. Whether I’m writing novels, screenplays, or blog posts like this one, I often find that my most personal truths come through in the spaces between the words. Below, I’m answering a few questions about how storytelling has shaped my healing journey… not just creatively, but soulfully.

For me, storytelling isn’t just a passion. It’s how I process, how I feel, how I understand. This piece is a love letter to that experience. To the quiet magic of noticing. To the deep pulse of pattern. To the sacred way my mind finds meaning in ink.

Rediscover how revisiting old writing projects can reignite creativity and bring new life to current works-in-progress. In this reflection, author Dalea Faulkner shares how a college short story evolved into a dark fantasy trilogy—and why unfinished ideas are often the ones worth returning to.

This book picks up right after Lost in Time and carries the story deeper into friendship, healing, and hidden memory. The Secrets of Starlight Lake is about the truths we bury… and what happens when they rise. There are portals, sparkling aquamarines, an ancient artifact, and a lake that remembers everything.

A quiet reflection on time, memory, and second chances—this post explores the meaning behind Lost in Time, why I’m drawn to stories that heal, and who this book was always meant to find.

Go behind the scenes of The Christmas Witch and the journey it took to keep creating through criticism, doubt, and unexpected detours. This post is a reflection on resilience, creative growth, and reclaiming your voice—especially when the story doesn’t go as planned.

In this post, I’m pulling back the curtain on how I approach character development—from their messy beginnings to the conversations they have in their heads, to the arcs that shape their growth across an entire series. Whether you're a writer, a reader, or just someone who’s ever felt changed by a fictional character… this one’s for you.