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If you walked into my writing space right now, you would find notes on chemistry in pottery, sketches of ancient Japanese climbing kilns (anagama), and a sticky note that reads: “This story should feel like stepping into a room filled with the scent of warm tea, cedar, and fresh rain.”

You would also find two entirely different, fully completed books sitting in the corner, staring at me with deep judgment.

I have two books that are ready for publishing. Do I put the finishing touches on the formatting? No. Because formatting requires discipline, and my brain demands the pure, unadulterated dopamine hit of creation. Instead of doing the work, I fully indulged myself, chased the creative high, and became completely lost inside another world. I’m wrote the final pages yesterday!

This book has consumed my nights, wrecked my editing timelines, and absolutely captured my heart: The Indigo Secret.

One of my fondest artistic passions is pottery, and traditional Japanese ceramics is an art form I have long admired. Finishing this story has been on my bucket list for a long time. It forced me to look at how we process grief, generational expectations, and the beauty of stepping into our own light later in life.

What is The Indigo Secret About?

Set in the mist-shrouded mountain valley of Hinata Village, Japan, the story follows Emi, a widow who has spent the years since her husband’s death fading into the background. She has shrunk her world to the safety of teacups, tatami mats, and the companionship of her cat, Yume. To Emi, isolation is safety.

A Daughter’s Push, A Brewing Romance, and a Touch of Madness?

The heart of the tension lies between Emi and Midori. Midori is convinced her mother can no longer take care of herself, and honestly, Emi is starting to wonder if her daughter is right.

Lately, the impossible is happening. A trail of origami cranes has begun moving through her house. Emi is caught in a terrifying limbo: Is she experiencing a genuine haunting from her past, or is she simply getting old, forgetful, and hallucinating?

While Emi deals with the trepidation of stepping back into the world, a slow-burn romance begins to brew with her neighbor Takumi. But Emi can’t rely on a romance to rescue her. She has to stand firmly on her own solid ground.

Here are a few of the sketches. It features Emi’s cat, Yume, sitting inside their traditional farmhouse kitchen in their Japanese mountain village. That paper crane in the center is our first clue.

Authenticity in the Mud and Fire

To bring the valley of Hinata to life, I leaned heavily into the sensory world of traditional Japanese ceramics. You won’t find digital sensors or automated laboratory gear in Takumi’s workshop. Instead, the characters rely on ancient techniques.

When Can You Read It?

The manuscript is officially in its final polishing stages!

If you love atmospheric fiction, slow-burn mature romance, high-stakes family secrets, and a touch of magical realism, this book was written for you. Stay tuned for cover reveals, ARC (Advance Reader Copy) sign-ups, and official release announcements coming soon!

Life with chronic illness always keeps us on our toes. Recently, life decided to add a new challenge to the list. I have been dealing with sudden eye problems that have partially blocked my vision in both eyes.

After two terrifying trips to the emergency room, I am told this problem is mostly temporary. But this unexpected hurdle has added to my inability to finish formatting and publishing the two books I was ready to launch. Timing is everything. When my vision went partially dark for the week, everything stopped, briefly.

I am no stranger to figuring out how to move forward with a disability. Still, a setback like this was a blow. I wanted to lift my spirits, and for me, that always means creating.

I spent the week speaking the end of The Indigo Secret, which is one of my current favorite novels that I have worked on in the background. Because my vision was limited, I had to use text-to-speech and voice-to-text software to finish the story.

It has been a fascinating experience. It resulted in a much faster storytelling pace and a stream-of-consciousness style. My raw draft is now full of spoken notes like, “Let me think what comes next,” which makes me laugh. However, I also found that dictation helps me write much faster. I am unable to stop and worry about editing, again and again, like I usually do.

This experience has changed how I view my own work. I want my writing to be accessible to everyone. Therefore, I am making a concerted effort to ensure my future books and blog posts are helpful for text-to-speech software.

Why You Will See My Writing Style Change

In the past, I used a lot of contractions in my writing. Words like it is became it’s, and would not became wouldn’t. I did this because I thought it made the prose feel more natural on the page.

I have learned that contractions can sound glitchy when read aloud by assistive software. They can sound choppy or confusing.

From now on, you will notice me writing out full words. I will write is not, would not, and it is. This is completely purposeful. It allows digital voices to read the text with better flow and clarity.

Accessibility Benefits Everyone

This change is not just for readers who have vision loss. Text-to-speech software is used by fully sighted people every day. Many readers prefer to listen to a book while they wash dishes, drive, or rest their eyes after a long day.

By making my writing friendly for digital speech, I hope more people are able to comfortably enjoy my stories. 

The ocean where I currently find solace, in Vlorë, Albania.

Well, friends, June has officially come and gone, and the finalized, fully formatted version of The Weight of Caring is not currently sitting on the digital shelves.

If this were a massive corporate publishing house, there would be severe memos, tense Zoom calls, and people in suits looking very disappointed. Fortunately, the only person who imposed that June formatting deadline was me. And as the absolute boss of myself, I have decided to grant myself an extension.

Why? Because life—as it so often does—decided to throw a few unexpected side quests my way.

Between the beautifully chaotic reality of living with animals, the inevitable foster kitten that renders all resistance futile, and the sheer mental gymnastics of digital formatting software (which I am convinced was coded by mischievous pixies), like the sands of time, June slipped through my fingers.

Since The Weight of Caring deals with some heavy, raw emotional issues—like systemic indifference, compassion fatigue, and the deep burnout that comes with animal welfare work—I want to make sure the final package is perfect for you.

To balance out the heavy, complex themes of advocate mental health, I decided to pack the book with a bit more joy. At the end of the chapters, you will find simple, cute, completely un-serious animal drawings that I created.

Since you have to wait just a wee bit longer for the book, I wanted to pull back the curtain and show you a few more of these illustrations early!

Think of these little guys as your official reminder that even in the middle of a heavy world, we are allowed to pause, smile, and look at something adorable.

And I couldn’t resist putting these adorable creatures below on my Facebook banner.

The formatting marathon continues and I am working hard to cross the finish line soon.

Thank you all so much for your patience, your support, and for walking this path with me. Go hug an animal, take a nap if you need one, and keep an eye on this space for the official release date!

The Crossroads of Academia

My father, a practical man, regarded me with a long and thoughtful expression when, after two years of diligent wandering through the halls of academia, I was at last required to declare my main course of study. Up until that point, my university transcripts read like a map of an explorer who refused to settle on a single continent. I had found delight in many pursuits—psychology, art history, philosophy, and many  other disciplines that seemed to invite curiosity more than certainty. I collected ideas the way others collect souvenirs, captivated by the sheer breadth of options.

In the end, when the clock ran down and a choice became mandatory, I chose not according to ambition, nor according to prudence, but according to where my affections and accumulated credits had most faithfully led me: English Literature.

It is perhaps no great betrayal to admit that my father received this decision with little enthusiasm. He was a man understandably concerned with such earthly, tangible matters as stability, employment, and livelihood. To him, books were a solace, but not a foundation for a career. Yet I also know his concern was deeply rooted in a wish for my long-term safety in an unpredictable world.

My mother, by contrast, was my steadfast supporter from the beginning. She encouraged my pursuit of the arts in whatever form they took, seeing a spark in my creative endeavors that I was often too timid to recognize. She offered a steadier, more resilient faith in my inclinations than I often had in myself, acting as the wind at my back when my own confidence faltered.

I carry their contrasting influences with me still—my father’s grounding caution and my mother’s boundless encouragement and hope. In this digital space, which serves as a new chapter in my life, I wish to offer a public word of thanks to them both. They gave me all that they could while I had them. Though familial relationships are complex, I remain eternally grateful to have been blessed with them as my parents. I hope, in some manner beyond sight and across the veil of time, they know this still.

The Long Intermission

My life took an unexpected turn, leading to an intermission of nearly nine years in my publishing life. A severe chronic illness gradually carried me away from the daily work and creative rhythms I loved. The vibrant world I had built around words art and nature slowed to a crawl. I continued to write in the quiet spaces when I was physically able, wrestling with sentences in the margins of fatigue and pain. However, the sharp cognitive and creative faculties upon which I had always relied no longer served me as they once had. As a result, many stories remained unwritten, locked away in the mind, or at least unpublished.

During those challenging years, the focus of my creativity shifted from the page to the body. I devoted myself fully to the long, grueling, and often humbling labor of trying to regain some measure of health and physical function. It was a time marked by isolation, patience, and the slow dismantling of who I thought I was.

I cannot claim to have returned from that wilderness unchanged; perhaps none of us do after passing through such transformative fires. The person writing this today is different from the person who stepped away. Yet, I am profoundly grateful to have regained enough of my health, clarity, and true self to begin sharing my stories with the world once more. To recover even a part of one’s creativity after years of fearing it permanently lost is a gift beyond measure. I am filled gratitude to have found a vital piece of myself again, sitting right where I left it, waiting to be rekindled.

Companions Along the Way

Throughout those dark and stationary years, animals remained my daily joy and most steadfast companions. Their grace, presence, and uncomplicated love provided a mirror of comfort when human words fell short. 

As a lifelong animal advocate, my home and my heart have always been open to those without a voice. Over the years, I have spent much of my time traveling slowly with a rotating, ever-changing cast of foster animals.

Predictably, many of these fosters became permanent fixtures of my life, choosing me just as much as I chose them. They carried me through the heaviest years of illness and profound isolation. They did not care about my accomplishments or my productivity; they cared only for presence. Today, they continue to make every new destination feel more like home.

The Journey Forward

And so, here I am today. The road has been neither straight nor easy, but it has brought me to this exact page. I am still creating art, still writing, and still actively searching for beauty, imagination, and a deeper understanding of this strange, marvelous human experience.

This website and this blog are the fruits of that survival and renewal. I am profoundly grateful to be able to share that journey, and these unfolding stories, with you once again. Thank you for being here, for reading, and for walking a little way down the path with me.

Hello, my fellow animal lovers and rescue angles! It feels like it has been way too long since I uploaded a new book. Between answering late-night foster emergencies, wrangling escape artists, and trying to save the world one paw at a time, finding the time to sit down and write has been a wild ride.

But I am so excited to announce that my new self-care book tailored specifically for animal rescuers is finally coming to life!

If you spend your days advocating for animals, you already know that rescue work can be emotionally and physically taxing. We are so good at making sure our furry friends have everything they need, but we are absolutely terrible at prioritizing ourselves. Compassion fatigue is real, and it is heavy.

I am currently in the thick of formatting the book, and let me tell you, it is a dance of margins, font sizes, and trying to ensure that every single self-care tip and trick is beautifully laid out and ready for you.

The goal? To have this book perfectly formatted, polished, and ready to upload by the end of June! Yes, this June. Which is only a few days away!

A Little Confession…

Sharing my writing is hard enough. Sharing my art? Absolutely terrifying!

But self-care is all about embracing vulnerability, right? So, I am stepping way outside my comfort zone. I drew an exclusive illustration for the inside of this book, and I am sharing a sneak peek of it with you today.

I usually hide my drawings away, but this book is a piece of my heart. I wanted it to have a truly personal touch for you. I really hope it brings a smile to your face.

Wish me luck as I sit here with my hot tea, my rescues sleeping by my feet, and my formatting software open. I am pushing through to get this over the finish line so you can start prioritizing your well-being.

Stay tuned for the official launch announcement!

♡

Hello! I’m Elizabeth, and this little corner of the internet is Wildwood Owl Books.

I should warn you up front: I am the kind of person who has always believed the old stories were trying to tell us something true. Not literally, maybe. But the warnings our grandmothers passed down, about strange horses standing too patiently by the water, about hills you don’t dig into, about doors you leave open for reasons you can’t quite explain, were never really about monsters. They were about paying attention. About the cost of pride, the weight of grief, the small choices that turn out to matter more than we ever expected them to.

That’s the kind of story I love to write. Cozy, atmospheric, occasionally funny in the way real life is funny even in hard moments, and always, underneath it all, true to something.

I started publishing what I write because I wanted a home for these stories. The ones that take old folklore seriously enough to get the details right, and care about the people inside them just as much as the ghosts. Right now I’m deep in finishing an anthology of short stories based on the ancient Celtic folk tales. Each one built around a real, documented piece of regional tradition.

And there’s more on the way, including some cozy fantasy and sci-fi I’m eager to share. I love these characters, their hopes and their quirks, and I hope you will too.

If you’ve found your way here, thank you. Truly. Whether you’re a longtime reader or just passing through the woods, I’m glad you stopped.

Pull up a chair by the fire. I think you’ll like it here.

Elizabeth