Mimi & Poppy’s Place | Community Homesteader Workshop
I showed up for conversation… and left full.
Full of laughter.
Full of hugs.
Full of stories I’ll carry for a long time.
The hospitality at Mimi & Poppy’s was unmatched. From the setup support to the steady flow of people who stopped by the table, every moment felt intentional. I don’t think I met a single stranger — just readers waiting to connect.
There were tears. There were confessions. There were “I needed this” moments.
And that’s why I do this.
Thank you to everyone who showed up, shared space, and let the words do what they do best. 💛
Private Speaking Engagement
Grateful to the Mensa Society for inviting me to speak at their gathering tonight.
A room full of brilliant minds creating such a genuine, welcoming space—it was truly a pleasure.
I wasn’t sure if All the Ways I Said Yes would fit the tone of the night… until a member asked why I didn’t bring it. Turns out she had already purchased it at a recent event.
I love a spicy reader. 👀🔥
Good food, great dialogue, and an open invitation to return made the night even sweeter.
The conversations that happen in real life.
Oyster City Market
These moments were EVERYTHING!
At Oyster City Market, some of my readers returned to tell me how No Sunshine & All The Ways I Said Yes landed with them.
What they shared was honest, emotional, and deeply personal, so I chose to mute the audio to honor their privacy.
I feel so honored that they trust me in this way.
I’m grateful for every person who felt safe enough to come back and share.
A Very Bookish Christmas Party
One of my favorite parts of bookish events has been watching readers’ reactions to All the Ways I Said Yes — from “wait… did it really say that?” to laughter and honest conversation.
Author Harvest Fest
Author Harvest Fest was a beautiful reminder of why I love meeting readers face-to-face. Sharing No Sunshine and All the Ways I Said Yes alongside handmade bookmarks created space for meaningful conversation, curiosity, and connection.
What stood out most were the moments in between—readers recognizing themselves in the work, asking thoughtful questions, and returning to the table already familiar with the stories I carried until I couldn’t.
Events like this affirm that the work doesn’t just live on the page—it lives in community.
