
I’ve spent the last decade helping authors find the heart of their stories, acting as that voice on their shoulder between a messy first draft and a polished, ready-to-publish book. But lately, I’ve realized I’ve been ignoring a story of my own—one that’s been sitting on a dusty hard drive for nearly two decades. Okay, not dusty, it was in a drawer. I’m digging into my archives and treating my old journals with the same clinical yet caring eye I give my clients—this is terrifying. This will be a series of essays I’m calling "The Doha Diaries," where I’ll be sharing the raw, unvarnished, and very messy lessons of a year that broke me down and built me back up, all while showing you exactly how a publishing partner turns life’s chaos into a narrative that matters.
Settle in and buckle up, you’ll want your beverage of choice for this ride…





