Before ChatGPT became the world’s driest commonplace copywriter, and before Anthropic destroyed millions of printed books to train its AI models, writing was an art. Weaving together words consumed brainpower and inspired creativity—and even if we wildly threw around punctuation like EE Cummings, at least we could recognize it all as human.
I always knew I’d be a writer. I just didn’t know what kind. I spent my youth with Jack London, C.S. Lewis, and Scott O’Dell, and then my older years with Steinbeck, Hemingway, O’Connor—and finally, Didion. I was struck by her writing: genuine, true, human, crisp. The Year of Magical Thinking turned me into a dedicated nonfiction reader for life (I haven’t read a novel since) and altered my view of how a story could be told. No more cryptic metaphors, mysterious words, or fluffy paragraphs; it was all there on the page, everything I needed to draw conclusions as a reader.
I tell stories—the true kind—for a living. Brands need stories as much as people do, but those stories often get lost for the sake of a sale. Even in SaaS, we’re humans at heart. We need truth, connection, and meaning, all things genuine stories can bring, to make choices that matter.
There’s a place for frivolous writers and fancy mechanics (Emily Dickinson, I’m looking at you), but it’s not here. I write for thenon-writers, the scanners, and the doubters—because a good story can change any mind, and all stories deserve to be told.