This officially closes out The Agent Unveiled. I am so beyond honored and grateful to have been able to provide a safe space for the agents. It’s been a blast chatting with them.
#TAU #WritingCommunity

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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A chat room for subscribers! It’s open to free subscribers, but new chat threads can only be created by paid subscribers. ALL subscribers can comment or engage in current threads already up! My DMs are always open in case you have questions or suggestions. 🖤

The chat is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers, kind of like a group chat or live hangout. Subscribers of LI&I are known as members of the pride. This is your prideland. So, let’s grow that sense of community LI&I is best known for!

I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion. You can even propose or request topics for podcast and articles! You can also request to be a guest and/or be featured in a written article. 🫶

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3. That’s it! Jump into my thread to say hi, and if you have any issues, check out Substack’s FAQ.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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Welcome to Episode Three of The Agent Unveiled.

I’d love to zoom out now. Not into controversy or debate but into the larger pressures that shape this industry and how they impact you. Some topics discussed include cancel culture, pressures agents face from the public, and the effect social media has on the agent role as much as the industry as a whole.

Participants include:

• A.J. Van Belle

• Rachel Estep

• Ciara Smith

• Shelly Romero

• Vicky Weber

• Josh Foreman

• Renee Runge

**Rachel McMillan has chosen to participant through written format only. Her answers will be available in next week’s written episode. She will not be in the LIVE roundtable chat April 22nd.

This series is meant to offer clarity, nuance, and humanity in a space where agents are rarely given room to speak openly. Online public discourse, including outrage culture, often oversimplifies or distorts the reality of the job. So, I’m here to work with them and you to remove that veil and bridge the community between agent and author by reducing misinformation and tension between while helping readers and listeners to understand the realities agents navigate.

Thank you for joining us for the beginning of this deeper look into the people who help bring stories into the world.

What to look forward to in this mini-series:

EPISODE 1:

The Human Behind the Agent

“This episode explores who agents are outside of publishing. Their identities, passions, grounding rituals, histories, and the human side of their lives that rarely receives space in industry conversations. You’ll also learn something surprising about them you may not know and maybe can’t learn anywhere else.

EPISODE 2:

The Invisible Labor of Publishing

Part two digs into the work agents perform that is rarely visible. From emotional load to daily decision-making to behind-the-scenes advocacy, this episode pulls the curtain back on the realities of a job that is often misunderstood. Agenting and the work doesn’t stop once you get the agent or sign the publishing deal.

(Today’s conversation) EPISODE 3:

The Industry Through Their Eyes

Part three widens the frame. Agents discuss the pressures of modern publishing, how social media shapes their day-to-day experience, and which conversations feel unsafe or underrepresented in public spaces.

EPISODE 4:

The Roundtable

A collective LIVE conversation with the participating agents, where where you, the listeners, get to engage live in this conversation before the series ends. This finale brings all three themes together while opening the floor to discuss public responses to the series. You can ask questions, comment on what you’ve heard, and help strengthen this wonderful community of creatives.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

Follow me on X, Instagram, Bluesky, or Threads.

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Music hits differently when it carries a raw authenticity and isn’t polished for perfection or numbers.

In this episode, I sit down with Ida Gratte (pronounced ID-duh GRAHT-tuh) for a real conversation about why she creates and what keeps her rooted in it. We talk about how music creates magical moments between the artist and the listener, moments that transcend sound and reach the soul to create a connection that stays with you.

We also get into her upcoming documentary releasing April 18th. It follows her through her summer tour, studio sessions, rehearsals, and the quieter in-between moments. For the first time, she opens up about a period of overworking and what it took to come back from that. There’s no filter on it. Just her, as she is.

Her new music carries that same level of honesty. Her latest album includes songs that speak on domestic violence and the emotional weight that comes with it. Nothing about Ida is surface level or done for the sake of it. Everything she does is done with honesty, passion, and the type of authenticity we foster here in the Lioness Ink & Insight pridelands.

Where To Find Ida

If you want to explore more of Ida’s world, you can listen to her music below, watch the documentary when it releases on YouTube, and follow her on Instagram to stay connected with everything she’s creating.

Documentary 🎥 (releasing April 18th)

Ida's Spotify

Ida on Instagram 📸

Ida on YouTube

Ida Gratte - Website

Listen to her music below after the podcast.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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Welcome to Episode Two of The Agent Unveiled.

In today’s episode, we talk about the invisible labor behind agenting, the emotional and mental weight of the role, and the behind-the-scenes decisions that shape outcomes long before a book ever reaches readers. This is a deeper dive into the realities of the job, where the questions get sharper and the answers pull back parts of the process that are rarely seen or discussed openly.

This is a dive into this topic where the questions get deeper and the agents share more unknown realities with you.

Participants include:

• A.J. Van Belle

• Rachel Estep

• Ciara Smith

• Shelly Romero

• Vicky Weber

• Josh Foreman

• Renee Runge

**Rachel McMillan has chosen to participant through written format only. Her answers will be available in next week’s written episode. She will not be in the LIVE roundtable chat April 22nd.

This series is meant to offer clarity, nuance, and humanity in a space where agents are rarely given room to speak openly. Online public discourse, including outrage culture, often oversimplifies or distorts the reality of the job. So, I’m here to work with them and you to remove that veil and bridge the community between agent and author by reducing misinformation and tension between while helping readers and listeners to understand the realities agents navigate.

Thank you for joining us for the beginning of this deeper look into the people who help bring stories into the world.

What to look forward to in this mini-series:

EPISODE 1:

The Human Behind the Agent
“This episode explores who agents are outside of publishing. Their identities, passions, grounding rituals, histories, and the human side of their lives that rarely receives space in industry conversations. You’ll also learn something surprising about them you may not know and maybe can’t learn anywhere else.

(Today’s conversation) EPISODE 2:

The Invisible Labor of Publishing
Part two digs into the work agents perform that is rarely visible. From emotional load to daily decision-making to behind-the-scenes advocacy, this episode pulls the curtain back on the realities of a job that is often misunderstood. Agenting and the work doesn’t stop once you get the agent or sign the publishing deal.

EPISODE 3:

The Industry Through Their Eyes
Part three widens the frame. Agents discuss the pressures of modern publishing, how social media shapes their day-to-day experience, and which conversations feel unsafe or underrepresented in public spaces.

EPISODE 4:

The Roundtable
A collective LIVE conversation with the participating agents, where where you, the listeners, get to engage live in this conversation before the series ends. This finale brings all three themes together while opening the floor to discuss public responses to the series. You can ask questions, comment on what you’ve heard, and help strengthen this wonderful community of creatives.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

Follow me on X, Instagram, Bluesky, or Threads.

Share

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Episode one of The Agent Unveiled is officially out in the world, and I wanted to really slow that moment down, because something really important happened. Both agents and the writing community came together to meet each other with openness instead of assumption. Agents were willing to show up as people first, and in return, the community met them with curiosity, respect, and care. That kind of exchange is not as common as it should be, and it deserves to be acknowledged.

I want to thank the writing community for your open minds, welcoming arms, and kind voices in the introductory phase of this series. Every single one of the listeners and readers matter. And, of course, thank you to all of our anonymous and public-facing agent participants! Your show of humility set the tone for everything this series is meant to become.

What To Expect In This Article

As we move into the written side of this series, I want to set a clear expectation for what these companion articles are meant to do. Each one will serve as both a reflection and an expansion. You will see community responses woven into the discussion, along with additional insight that could not fit into the audio format. This includes full interview responses from agents like Rachel McMillan, who was unable to appear in the episode due to scheduling, as well as anonymous contributions from agents who preferred to speak off-record but still wanted their voices included. That transparency matters to me, and it will remain consistent throughout the series.

What Is This Series For?

Writers spend an incredible amount of time trying to anticipate what agents want, shaping their work, their queries, and even their expectations around what they believe agents are thinking. At the same time, agents are constantly interpreting what writers understand about the industry, about craft, and about the submission process. Both sides are building narratives about each other, often without realizing how much of that narrative is based on assumption rather than actual conversation.

This leads to a buildup of quiet tension in the publishing industry.

I touched on this briefly in the Substack note attached to Episode 1, but it was echoed beautifully by Vicky Weber (She/Her), who shared a quote that captured it in a way that feels almost disarmingly simple. Writers build narratives about agents. Agents build narratives about writers. And somewhere in between, the actual dialogue gets lost.

This series is designed to slow things down enough that both can be seen clearly.

The Human Behind the Role

(Featuring insights from Rachel McMillan)

One of the most striking things, both in the episode itself and in the written responses that followed, was how quickly the perception of “agent” shifted once the focus moved away from the role and onto the person. Every agent answered the same core questions, yet no two responses felt identical. There was no single personality type, no uniform path, no shared script for how they arrived here or how they move through their lives outside of work.

What did feel consistent, though, was something quieter.

One thing that was consistent, though, was the humility in the way they spoke about themselves. There was a clear sense of responsibility in how they approached their work, and an awareness of the emotional weight attached to it. There was also a recurring thread of creativity that existed alongside agenting, not separate from it. These are people who love stories deeply, not just as professionals, but as individuals who are still actively a creative of some sort at heart.

Interview with Rachel McMillan (She/Her)

Since Rachel was unable to join us in the recorded episode, I want to take the time to fully center her responses here, because they offer such a grounded and honest look at the person behind the role. This will be consistent for every episode.

1. Who are you outside of publishing?

   “A nerdy, introspective dreamer who never thinks she is good enough. A frequent solo traveler obsessed with church architecture. I frequently travel to Austria and the UK and am always expanding European destinations. Heading to Copenhagen in a few months! Toronto, my home, is full of amazing international markets and I love to cook using what I find I love Broadway and theatre and opera. I am an aunt to five adorable kidlets.”

   There is something deeply human in that self-awareness, especially in an industry where confidence is often assumed rather than questioned. That sense of solitude and intentional space carries into what a good day looks like for her.

2. What does a good day look like for you when work isn’t running the show?

   “I love to travel. Especially solo. I love to be by myself in a new city or town and walk for hours and then sit by myself at dinner: people-watching. I love theatre.

   I write historical fiction for Harper Collins and am currently finishing a biography of Christopher Wren for a UK publisher.

   On a smaller scale, I still treasure solo-time. I am often a tourist in my own city (Toronto). And I LOVE to read. Not just my books or client books or books for research.”

   Even within her own city, she described herself as a tourist in familiar places, someone who still seeks out moments that exist outside of productivity. At the same time, she continues her own creative work, writing historical fiction and completing a biography, which reinforces that her connection to storytelling is not confined to her role as an agent.

3. What’s something people would never guess about you?

   “I am a classically trained opera singer. I don’t have a driver’s license ( common for city girls). I am a huge introvert (something I have to hang up on the shelf given all of the teaching and conferences.”

   Her responses here quietly reshaped perception of the agent role in small, unexpected ways. These are not the kinds of details that typically surface in conversations about agenting, yet they’re the details that make the role feel human instead of abstract. When reflecting on how she arrived here, Rachel returned to something simple and consistent.

4. What did you want to be before you found this career?

   “I have always wanted to be a writer. ALWAYS. So that part of my career is since I was a little kid. I found this part of my career after spending 11 years in corporate publishing. I love working for myself. And I love supplementing my own writing with the ability to help other authors.”

   She has always wanted to be a writer. That identity came first, long before agenting entered the picture, and it never left. After more than a decade in corporate publishing, she moved into agenting as a way to support other authors while continuing to nurture her own creative work. That dual perspective shapes how she engages with the people she represents, because she understands both sides of the process in a lived way. When things become overwhelming, her answer is not complex or performative. She walks. She shuts everything down, laces up her shoes, and keeps moving until she feels steady again.

5. What grounds you when things feel overwhelming?

   “I walk a lot. I love walking. Toronto is an amazing walking city. So I often will shut down and just lace up and walk and walk and walk until I can find my footing again.

   We talk about agents like they exist behind inboxes and submission portals, when in reality, they are navigating pressure, workload, and emotional weight just like the writers querying them.”

   That image stays with me, because it cuts through a lot of the distance we tend to place between ourselves and agents. We talk about them as if they exist behind inboxes and submission portals, when in reality they’re navigating pressure, expectation, and emotional investment in ways that are not all that different from the writers reaching out to them.

Some Anonymous Responses

Not every agent feels comfortable speaking publicly, and that in itself says something about the environment we’re all navigating. Still, several chose to contribute quietly, trusting this space enough to share pieces of themselves without attaching a name to it.

I want to honor that trust by holding their responses with care while still letting their voices come through clearly. To preserve anonymity, I have assigned each of them a simple identifier, but what matters here is not who they are. It’s what they revealed.

One agent, who I’ll refer to as Agent Ember, described herself outside of publishing as someone who craves stillness in a world that rarely allows for it. She spoke about gardening, working with her hands, and needing something tangible after spending so much of her time in ideas and manuscripts. “I spend my entire day inside other people’s stories,” she said, “so when I step away, I need something that reminds me I exist in my own life too.” There was a quiet exhaustion in that statement, but also a sense of intention. When asked what grounds her, she didn’t offer anything elaborate. “I log off. I go outside. I stop being reachable for a few hours,” she explained. It was simple, but it carried weight in an industry that often rewards constant availability.

Another agent, Agent Lark, approached the questions from a more introspective angle. When asked what people would never guess about him, he admitted, “I am far more sensitive than I let on in professional spaces. I have to be.” He went on to explain that agenting requires a level of emotional regulation that’s not always visible from the outside. “You’re holding someone’s work, their time, their belief in themselves. You cannot react to everything the way you feel it.” That distinction between feeling and response is something writers rarely get to see, but it shapes nearly every interaction. When reflecting on what he wanted to be before this career, his answer mirrored something we saw echoed across multiple agents. “A writer. Always a writer. That never changed. This just became another way to stay close to that.”

The third agent, Agent North, brought a different kind of honesty into the conversation. When asked what a good day looks like outside of work, they paused on the idea entirely. “I am still figuring that out,” they said. “This job can take up as much space as you let it. I am learning how to take some of that space back.” There was no polished answer there, and that’s exactly what made it land. When asked what grounds them, they gave a response that felt almost disarmingly direct. “My clients, honestly. When they trust me, when they let me in on what they’re building, it reminds me why I’m here.” That sense of responsibility showed up again when they spoke about what people misunderstand most. “We don’t take this lightly. Signing someone is not just a business decision. It’s a commitment to their future and your own.”

Across all three of these responses, the common thread wasn’t strategy or industry advice. It was awareness.

Each of them, in very different ways, spoke to the balance they’re constantly trying to maintain. Between work and self, emotional investment and professional boundaries, their own creative identity and the responsibility of supporting someone else’s.

And maybe that’s the part that matters most that I didn’t even realize myself.

The more we hear that clearly, the harder it becomes to reduce agents to a role instead of recognizing them as people navigating something complex, just like the writers trying to reach them.

What This Episode Actually Revealed

I’m not here to provide yet another article on how to write a query or any surface-level advice. Although, all of that is immensely helpful! Episode one of TAU revealed a shift in how we understand the relationship itself.

Agents aren’t sitting in some unreachable position waiting to judge work in isolation. They’re individuals balancing creative identities, professional responsibilities, and personal expectations all at once. They experience doubt, need space to reset, and carry multiple roles that often overlap in ways not visible from the outside.

Rachel Estep’s experience reflects that clearly, but she was not an outlier. Every agent who participated shared some version of that same truth, shaped by their own path into the industry. These careers are built on passion, but they’re sustained through an ongoing investment in other people’s work, often long before there is any guarantee of return. That’s a level of commitment that rarely gets acknowledged in conversations about agenting. It is such a selfless job and I don’t think they get recognized enough for that.

When you look at it through that lens, the dynamic shifts again from author versus gatekeeper to one creator working alongside another, inside a system that asks a great deal from both while also being overwhelming for both.

The Community Response

What struck me most in the early response to Episode 1 wasn’t just the support, but the tone. There was a clear sense that people felt seen in a way they weren’t expecting. There was a softness to it. A kind of openness that felt unguarded, like people were stepping into the conversation without the usual tension that tends to exist between writers and agents.

When Bruce Buchanan stepped into the conversation, he didn’t come in with critique or distance. He said he recognized many faces from the writing community, but what stood out to him was the opportunity to learn about people as individuals, not just agents or authors. Then he asked the question that quietly anchored the entire discussion. “What can authors (not clients, the writing community in general) do to make these interactions and your experiences more positive and less stressful for you?”

A. J. Van Belle (They/Them) responded with a level of clarity that cut through a lot of the noise writers carry. They reframed querying not as a test or gate to pass, but as a craft to learn over time. They acknowledged how separate it is from writing a novel, how little those skills overlap, and how important it is for authors to give themselves room to grow into it. What stayed with me was the way they articulated recognition from the agent side, noting that when a query works, it becomes clear within seconds because it signals that the writer understands their story at its core. In their words, “Eventually, you'll know how to share just a few lines that let the core of your story shine through.” They emphasized that when a query works, agents recognize that within seconds. There was no demand for perfection in that statement, but only for the writer to understand their work well enough to communicate it clearly. And in that same breath, they normalized the process of getting there. Feedback, revision, practice, even writing pitches for books that do not exist yet. All of it counts.

What followed from Bruce grounded that even further. His follow-up brought that perspective back into the writer’s body in a way that felt deeply honest. He acknowledged the work he had already put in, the guides studied, the revisions made, the effort invested, and then said plainly, “But am I confident in it? Of course not. I am a neurotic, self-doubting writer, after all.” There was no performance in that admission. It was simple, and it was real. It named the part of the process that rarely gets spoken out loud, even though nearly every writer experiences it. The work can be solid, the preparation thorough, and the doubt still lingers, unchanged. The self-doubt doesn’t disappear just because the work is done. It sits there anyway, quiet and persistent.

That exchange, on its own, captured exactly why this series exists: not to eliminate tension, but give space to name it and say, “Hey. I feel that too.”

Outside of that thread, the broader response carried the same energy. Lia Brantley shared that she had already read the piece and “really enjoyed it and looooove the concept,” which speaks to something more than passive interest. It was a small moment that reflected early engagement beyond surface-level scrolling. Laureanne Broton described the project as “really interesting,” while Rachel Blaine called it “an amazing group of agents” and expressed genuine anticipation. Both echoed that same curiosity and excitement, pointing toward something building here rather than something passively consumed.

Even the shorter reactions like “this looks really interesting” or “that’s amazing” carried weight because they they showed people were paying attention. All responses reflected attention, curiosity, and a willingness to engage while showing the need for this conversation, and of the space being created to hold it. This was the first step on this bridge we’re building together.

The Reality Behind the Numbers

Let’s talk about what happened when this episode went live. I was absolutely floored. The data reflected a signal of impact rather than a measure of success in a performative sense.

The data as of today is:

• 171 total views

• 237 podcast downloads

• Traffic coming from direct clicks, Substack, and Twitter

For a first episode in a series on a newly emerging podcast channel, that matters. It tells us people aren’t skimming this important conversation. They’re opening it, choosing to engage, and staying long enough for it to sink in. The traffic sources matter too. Direct clicks, Substack discovery, and Twitter all played a role, which means this conversation is not confined to one space. It’s moving and spreading everywhere, being shared, and finding people in different corners of the writing community.

But hold on. To clarify, it isn’t specifically the numbers exactly that matters. I’m not into vanity metrics and I never will be. If one single person was impacted by the message I’m sharing, then I’ve done my job.

It’s what the numbers represent that matters. They prove this landed in a bigger way than even I anticipated. It proves even further how much this conversation is needed.

What We’re Building Here

This series is NOT about pulling back the curtain just for the sake of curiosity nor is it meant to exist as a one-sided reveal or a curated glimpse behind the curtain. It’s about recalibrating how this industry understands and sees itself through proximity rather than assumption. The more we allow space for real conversations to happen, the harder it becomes to flatten either side into something impersonal or distant.

Rachel McMillan touched on something in her responses that feels important to carry forward here. There is no single path into publishing, and there is no singular version of success that defines it. Traditional publishing, independent publishing, hybrid approaches, all of them hold value depending on the goals and needs of the writer. All of them are valid and are fulfilling in different ways.

When we expand that definition instead of narrowing it, we create room for more stories, more voices, and more ways of existing within this space without feeling like there is only one door worth walking through.

That shift is quiet, but it’s equally powerful.

It gives people permission to build careers that actually fit them, instead of chasing a version of success that may not. And when we stop narrowing the definition of success, we create space for more stories to exist.

That includes yours.

Final Thought

If Episode One proved anything, it’s that the distance between writers and agents is not rooted in hostility. Assumption fuels it. So, the moment we start replacing that assumption with actual conversation, the dynamic changes. It isn’t sudden or perfect, but enough to start a movement.

And I’m just getting started.

So, settle into the pridelands and follow along for Episode 2 - The Invisible Work releasing TODAY at 7:00pm EST where we move beyond perception and into the work itself, the parts that are rarely seen but shape everything behind the scenes.

Because what you don’t see? That’s where everything really happens.

Stay real. Stay weird. Stay fierce. 🦁🖤

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

Follow me on X, Instagram, Bluesky, or Threads.

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In today’s episode, we talk about who the agents are outside of their agent roles, what brought them to agenting, and something surprising about them most people don’t know. This is a soft intro before getting into deeper questions later in the series. Join the conversation by leaving comments that will be featured in next week’s written article! Agents are going to also be answering any questions left in the comments. 🫶

Participants include:

• A.J. Van Belle

• Rachel Estep

• Ciara Smith

• Shelly Romero

• Vicky Weber

• Josh Foreman

• Renee Runge

**Rachel McMillan has chosen to participant through written format only. Her answers will be available in next week’s written episode. She will not be in the LIVE roundtable chat April 22nd.

This series is meant to offer clarity, nuance, and humanity in a space where agents are rarely given room to speak openly. Online public discourse, including outrage culture, often oversimplifies or distorts the reality of the job. So, I’m here to work with them and you to remove that veil and bridge the community between agent and author by reducing misinformation and tension between while helping readers and listeners to understand the realities agents navigate.

Thank you for joining us for the beginning of this deeper look into the people who help bring stories into the world.

What to look forward to in this mini-series:

(Today’s conversation) EPISODE 1:

The Human Behind the Agent
“This episode explores who agents are outside of publishing. Their identities, passions, grounding rituals, histories, and the human side of their lives that rarely receives space in industry conversations. You’ll also learn something surprising about them you may not know and maybe can’t learn anywhere else.

EPISODE 2:

The Invisible Labor of Publishing
Part two digs into the work agents perform that is rarely visible. From emotional load to daily decision-making to behind-the-scenes advocacy, this episode pulls the curtain back on the realities of a job that is often misunderstood. Agenting and the work doesn’t stop once you get the agent or sign the publishing deal.

EPISODE 3:

The Industry Through Their Eyes
Part three widens the frame. Agents discuss the pressures of modern publishing, how social media shapes their day-to-day experience, and which conversations feel unsafe or underrepresented in public spaces.

EPISODE 4:

The Roundtable
A collective LIVE conversation with the participating agents, where where you, the listeners, get to engage live in this conversation before the series ends. This finale brings all three themes together while opening the floor to discuss public responses to the series. You can ask questions, comment on what you’ve heard, and help strengthen this wonderful community of creatives.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

Follow me on X, Instagram, Bluesky, or Threads.

Share

Leave a comment

The Veil

There is a strange distortion that happens in publishing.

We host panels about querying. We scroll through endless threads dissecting how to land representation. Advice circulates constantly about comps, synopses, hooks, and hashtags. Entire corners of the internet are dedicated to analyzing response times and reading tea leaves in form rejections.

Writers talk about agents constantly. We track wish lists, debate trends, celebrate requests, and mourn passes while speculating about industry shifts.

Agents are referenced in group chats, conference hallways, and social feeds as if they’re symbols of opportunity or disappointment rather than people doing a job inside a complicated ecosystem. For how often they’re discussed, we rarely pause to consider the reality of their lived experience, the person behind that role.

Agents aren’t some guardian gatekeepers or mythical creatures of the publishing industry atop an impenetrable tower. They’re people behind those queries sitting at desks with overloaded inboxes while trying to champion stories they believe in. They love books enough to make advocacy their career.

They’re professionals navigating a volatile, subjective, and constantly shifting industry as much, if not more, as the rest of us. They shoulder more responsibility than most writers ever see.

So, that’s why ripping away the abstract veil on the role of ‘Agent’ wasn’t just something I chose to do. It’s necessary.

This four-part mini-series was created to explore that space. It’s built as a conversation-driven project designed to bring humanity back into a profession that’s too often reduced to rumor, projection, or frustration.

A Lioness Ink & Insight original series dedicated to real, nuanced, unfiltered conversations with literary agents about who they really are and a deeper understanding of their day-to-day lives.

At its core, the series centers one guiding idea: that the industry functions better when the people within it recognize each other as human.

Publishing is an ecosystem built on relationships. When distance grows between roles, misunderstanding fills the space. Writers can interpret silence as indifference when instead it’s overload. Agents can interpret public criticism as hostility. Social media accelerates both narratives without always providing context.

The Agent Unveiled exists to slow that down.

This goes beyond what they want or what they discuss in normal interviews. TAU is an exclusive look into how agents think and what excites, exhausts them, drains them, and how the unseen dimensions of their work shape outcomes for authors.

But most of all, how these are people. That’s it. People. They deserve space to speak honestly without fear of being reduced to headlines. They’re more than their job title.

Join me to learn how authors can understand each other better.

You want to improve this industry? Then stop treating each other like adversaries. Agents aren’t your enemy. They’re the ones standing at your side, fighting for you as much as the stories you write, and doing the work behind the scenes most of us couldn’t even fathom.

Why I Created This

I’ve spent years querying, revising, re-querying, and learning this industry from the inside out. I’ve seen full requests, partials, R&Rs, rejections, ghosting, and everything in between. It’s so damn exhausting. You question your sanity, talent, capability, and sometimes the industry as a whole. What’s the damn point to all of it?

But in my 15 years in this industry and the writing community as whole, there’s one thing I’ve realized most of all.

There’s a gap between perception and reality.

Writers build narratives in their heads about what agents think.
Agents build narratives in their heads about what writers understand.

But rarely do we slow down and say:
“Okay. Let’s actually talk.”

This isn’t because agents don’t want to. They do. They want to be able to speak their own truths. But how can they when it’s so easy to frame agents as “the hurdle”?

Agents are not obstacles to overcome. Their silence is rooted in caution because public industry spaces can be volatile.

What often gets overlooked is how they’re also the first person to champion your book inside a publishing house, to say, “I see it. I see you.” Them attaching their entire reputation to your work and carrying it into rooms authors never enter is no small thing taken lightly. They matter. The author matters. One does not matter more than the other nor can one exist entirely without the other. I created The Agent Unveiled to close that gap.

So, take a seat. Let’s talk. Step out of adversarial narratives that serve no one.

Neither I nor The Agent Unveiled is here to put agents on pedestals, but I will do everything in my power to humanize the process. Neither side is the enemy. Both sides are navigating the same unpredictable terrain from different vantage points. This world is dark enough as it is. It’s time we bring light where it should’ve always been.

And maybe, just maybe, make this industry feel a little less opaque.

The Agent Participants

Some agents in this project chose to speak publicly on the podcast. Others preferred to contribute anonymously in writing. Both choices are respected. This series was structured intentionally to allow for varying comfort levels while still amplifying honest perspectives.

These professionals represent a range of tastes, experience levels, and publishing perspectives. Each agent brings something uniquely powerful to the conversation and has agreed to answer questions that go deeper than submission guidelines. I genuinely cannot wait for you to hear what they have to say.

So, it’s my greatest honor to announce the agents participating publicly among all who have stepped into this series with raw authenticity and courage to speak from vulnerable places.

✨ A.J. Van Belle (They/Them)

Agency: THE BOOKER ALBERT LITERARY AGENCY
Hobbies: Lifting weights, making art, and playing guitar badly.
Outside of agenting: A.J. is a writer themself and spends a lot of time creating worlds. When they’re not writing or agenting, they’re usually hiking the Canadian Pacific coast with two dogs who are busy getting their leashes tangled.

✨ Rachel Estep (She/Her)

Agency: D4EO Literary Agency
Hobbies: “Reading, Gardening, Sewing, Legos, A current hyperfixation with Mini World creations, hanging out with my dog. Is being a Swiftie a Hobby? I don’t know but Taylor Swift and Gracie Abrams are 95% of my musical personality so...”
Outside of agenting: Who am I? Above everything, I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a best friend, and a sister. I am a person who loves and is loved. My best friend calls me a public menace and I joke with my clients all the time that I’m basically three racoons in a trenchcoat. It’s a running joke that I’m chaos personified. I’m a delight honestly!

No but seriously, I’m just a girl. I’m a dog mom and a cat mom and lover of disney movies and 90’s romcoms. I think there’s never a need for the big light in any room to be turned on, and that I actually do need to keep and cherish every sticker I ever collect at book conventions. One time I made my entire 7 person family walk around Animal Kingdom in the rain for three hours because I had to find the one very specific popcorn stand that had the Pumba buckets. I’m hard headed and I’m protective and strong willed and maybe a bit hot tempered, that’s the taurus in me, but I also cry if you look at me wrong.

✨ Ciara Smith (She/Her)

Agency: Spencerhill Associates Literary Agency
Hobbies: “All things fiber arts, knitting, crocheting, spinning, weaving. And outside of agenting, I’m pretty chaotic and talkative and a bit of a worry wart (how that isn’t in agenting I’ll never know lol).”
Outside of agenting:

✨ Shelly Romero (She/Her)

Agency: Azantian Literary Agency
Hobbies: Tennis; going to the movie theater; playing video games; rewatching movies for the thousandth time; playing horror themed board games; attending concerts; going to Haunts whether small or large-scale like Halloween Horror Nights.
Outside of agenting: “I’m a Latina Randy Meeks who just loves all things horror. I’ve got my A List AMC Subscription because going a week without seeing a new movie and having a popcorn and Coke ICEE just ain’t right. I’m also a big concert girlie so I’m always trying to see which of my favorite artists or bands I can see live. And I’m a newbie tennis player.”

✨ Vicky Weber (She/Her)

Agency: Creative Media Agency, Inc.
Hobbies: Reading, creative teaching projects, speaking at events, and chasing new ideas.
Outside of agenting: “I think that’s a hard question because publishing is such a huge part of who I am. I’m the kid that got grounded from reading. All the time as a kid. I would be reading in stead of doing the things I was supposed to be doing. I am a chatterbox. I am a mom, author, educator, and creative. I’m an energizer bunny. I never stop moving or thinking or trying to do all the things.”

✨ Josh Foreman (He/Him)

Agency: FinePrint Literary Management
Hobbies: Collecting Pokémon cards, reading, and watching baseball.
Outside of agenting: “I have a day job. I have a fulltime job and I am working towards launching my own small business. I am also a writer although I don’t have much time for it these days. I’m also really into sports. But mostly, I’m reading. That’s mostly what I’m doing. I just read and read and read. Queries and books and all the stuff.”

✨ Renee Runge (She/Her)

Agency: Spencerhill Associates Literary Agency
Hobbies: thrifting, going to concerts, collaging, going for walks, playing video games
Outside of agenting: “I work a day job as a clinic coordinator at a major cancer institute!”

✨ Rachel McMillan (She/Her)

Agency: Independent (formerly William K Jensen Agency)
Hobbies: “Solo travel (I travel to Europe a few times a year---always by myself!), I write historical fiction for Harper Collins and non-fiction for Pen and Sword (two of my fav hobbies!), historical architecture, reading (of course!), opera, theatre :) <3 ”
Outside of agenting: “A nerdy, introspective dreamer who never thinks she is good enough. A frequent solo traveler obsessed with church architecture. I frequently travel to Austria and the UK and am always expanding European destinations. Heading to Copenhagen in a few months! Toronto, my home, is full of amazing international markets and I love to cook using what I find I love Broadway and theatre and opera. I am an aunt to five adorable kidlets.”

What You Can Expect

Across four podcast episodes and four companion written articles, this series steps behind the title of “literary agent” and looks at the layers that shape the work.

Episode one focuses on the individual. Who they are outside of publishing. What grounded them before this career. What sustains them when work threatens to consume everything else. The intention is simple but powerful: to let listeners hear agents as complete human beings rather than industry silhouettes.

Episode two shifts inward to the labor itself. The invisible decisions, behind-the-scenes negotiations, and emotional and mental weight that rarely shows up publicly but influences outcomes in significant ways. This episode addresses the mechanics that most writers never see, not because they’re hidden deliberately, but because they exist in spaces authors simply don’t inhabit.

Episode three widens the lens further by examining the broader pressures shaping publishing today, the cultural climate, and social media dynamics. We have conversations that feel risky to have publicly about the shifting expectations placed on industry professionals. This is not a debate episode. It is a nuanced one. The goal is not controversy but clarity.

The final installment is a live roundtable conversation, bringing participating agents together to reflect on the themes that emerged throughout the series and respond to community reactions. It’s meant to be fluid while allowing the community to ask questions, respond to everything they’ve heard, and gain additional clarity.

Before You Go

I am deeply grateful to the agents who agreed to participate. Their willingness to speak candidly, to reflect thoughtfully, and in some cases to share vulnerable realities of their profession, sets the tone for what this project hopes to foster.

Over the coming weeks, each episode will release alongside a written companion article the following week that summarizes key themes expanding on responses that were submitted anonymously. Community reactions will also be addressed transparently in those articles. This is not a one-direction broadcast. It’s meant to be a living dialogue.

Comment. Get answers. Do so with humility, kindness, authenticity, and basic human decency. The Pridelands of Lioness Ink & Insight is a space for curiosity and respect.

Disagreement is allowed.

Dehumanization is not.

Publishing doesn’t need more noise. It needs more understanding.

If you are a querying writer, I hope this series gives you perspective you haven’t encountered before.

If you’re already agented, I hope it deepens the trust within your professional relationships. And if you are simply curious about the machinery behind the scenes, I invite you to step closer.

We cannot fix every tension in this industry. But we can reduce distortion and narrow the distance between roles.

Welcome behind the curtain.

This is only the beginning.

See you next Wednesday.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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In this episode, we talk about how media narratives and performative behavior can cause real harm, why education matters, and what ethical kink actually looks like in practice.

This isn’t about shock value or controversy. It’s about clarity, consent, responsibility, and creating safer dynamics through knowledge rather than shame.

Joining me in this important conversation is:

• Alexandria Brown - Rising Action Publishing Editor / Kinkster / Switch

• Mistress Bec

• Dom Buddha

The guests joining me bring their own lived experience to the conversation and are open to continuing the discussion in the comments for those who want to ask thoughtful follow-up questions.

Also, if you want to learn a bit about me, who I am in the kink space, and why this topic matters to me personally as someone speaking from lived experience within the community and lifestyle, comment away!

Thanks for stepping into this den with us. Grab a drink, get comfortable, and welcome to the pride.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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Art is often treated like something we consume. Something we scroll past, evaluate, or move on from.

This conversation invites us to slow down.

In this episode of Lioness Ink & Insight, I sit down with painter Michael Sexton to talk about art as a living exchange between artist and viewer. We explore texture, presence, and the quiet magic that happens when a piece of art finds you at the right moment.

We talk about why art comforts us, how it transcends time, and what it means to create work that does more than exist on a wall. Art that connects, lingers, and speaks beyond words.

Below, you’ll find selected works Michael chose to highlight, along with reflections that expand on the conversation.

Take your time with them. Let yourself feel what comes up.

Sometimes art doesn’t just show us something.
It opens a portal.

Michael Sexton Fine Art

The painting with the jar is one I personally purchased in person from Michael when I met him. It’s my pride and joy. It spoke to me so deeply. My interpretation is that it’s the jar of life and there’s beauty right outside as much as chaos. We choose how we fill it.

The one with the car is his profile picture on most social media so it’s easier to locate him. You can also click the following links: his Instagram, Threads, X (formerly Twitter), Facebook, Linktree and YouTube.

The adorable baby is a painting he did of his daughter when she was little!

The other three are ones he specifically selected to be featured in this podcast episode. And these are just the beginning of his incredible talent!

Before you go, I invite you to sit with what you’ve seen a little longer. Notice which piece stayed with you. Notice what it stirred, or softened, or quietly asked of you. There’s no right response here. Art meets each of us where we are.

If this conversation resonated, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or explore more of Michael’s work through the links above. And if you carry this moment with you into the rest of your day, let that be enough. Sometimes connection doesn’t need to be loud to be lasting.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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I need to say this out loud.

It started with my youngest getting the flu. Then it moved through the rest of the house, including me, right after I launched my pilot episode to my podcast. Two weeks later, just as we were starting to recover, the stomach flu hit.

All of us.

Again.

At the same time, I was trying to keep pace with everything I already had in motion. I’m writing my gothic and dark paranormal horror novel, editing Veilstrider for a revise & resubmit, scheduling and coordinating podcast guests, creating content, and running a full household with three kids, two dogs, four cats, while maintaining the upkeep of the house itself.

I do all of this by myself. No spouse or other parent for my kiddos.

I need to say this plainly and without softening it.

I am tired.
*And I’m allowed to be.*

The holidays are already hard for me.

Even without illness or unexpected setbacks, the holidays aren’t easy for me.

They’re stressful in a way that often goes unseen. I have children counting on me, and there’s no second or backup parent waiting in the wings to share the responsibility. Financially, December is always intense. I work a part-time job, unable to work full-time due to my kiddos health needs, and the pressure adds up quickly. Every gift, every meal, and every expectation lands on one set of shoulders.

The holidays season is stressful and carries grief, too. I’ve lost my grandma and other family around the holidays. Those absences never truly fade. I’m still learning to build my life around it all. This year, my oldest son lost his uncle on Christmas Day.

Watching a child grieve on a day that’s supposed to feel safe and joyful broke my heart for him and for everyone who loved his uncle. He was truly a good man, someone who took great care of his wife and kids with love and consistency while trying to break generational trauma. Him and his wife helped with my own son when he didn’t have his bio mom or dad and I was lost on how to be what my son needed.

Everything happened at once.

My children live with challenges that affect their bodies and minds every single day.

My eleven-year-old has cerebral palsy.
My middle child is autistic.
My oldest who came into my care full time in June 2024 when I got custody of him from his mother, lives with mental health struggles rooted in trauma from his early years with bio mom and from bio dad before that.

In December, all three of them began struggling with different health and emotional issues at the same time. There were appointments, symptoms piling up, fear creeping in, emotional fallout following close behind like a stalker, and exhaustion layered on top of one another. Exhaustion became the baseline.

There was no pause button. There was no space to catch my breath before the next thing needed attention. I wasn’t just sick myself. I was holding space for three children whose needs were immediate and non-negotiable. They come first. Always. No matter what that means or costs me!

That’s the reality behind the scenes.

And we don’t talk enough about what “doing it all” actually looks like!

There’s a quiet pressure in creative spaces, especially online, that if you love your work enough, you’ll always show up for it. Discipline and consistency are treated as proof of worth. Rest is framed as a failure of commitment.

But here’s the truth I keep coming back to.

We’re not machines.
We are not content factories.
We don’t have to perform productivity to justify our existence.

Sometimes survival is the work. Sometimes rest is the work.

There were days this winter when I didn’t write a single damn word. I didn’t read anything the entire month of December. My reading was sporadic on sleepless nights. I didn’t optimize or plan or push. I made sure my kids were okay. I fed everyone. I slept when I could.

That didn’t make me less of an author!
It made me human.

And I don’t feel a damn bit bad about it.

In fact, my work is thanking me for it now.

Success should not require burnout.

This part may make some people uncomfortable, but I’m saying it anyway.

Being successful does not need to mean overworking yourself into the ground. It does not need to mean constant output, constant visibility, or constant exhaustion disguised as ambition.

You’re still a writer, musician, creator, or whatever your job title is, if you miss a day and rest.
You’re still moving forward even when progress is quiet or invisible.

If success costs your health, your joy, or your ability to breathe, then the price is too high. I refuse to build a creative life that requires me to disappear inside it for the wrong reasons.

So, I rested. Hit pause. And still didn’t stop growing.

I don’t want this to sound like a story about collapse.

Even while sick and exhausted, even while everything felt off schedule, I continued my self-reclamation journey. I made new friends, pushed myself to attend public group meetups when my instinct was to stay home, stepped into unfamiliar spaces, and allowed myself to be seen.

That growth matters.

Growth doesn’t always look like productivity. It can be choosing connection, discomfort, or refusing to shrink. And refusing to shrink yourself can sometimes result in being told “you’re too much”.

I got told that recently and, to be honest, I let it get to me. This is something I’ve been sitting with.

Being told I’m “too much”.

“You’re too much.” No. I’m unapologetically alive in a world that prefers us quieter and easier to digest. I’ve heard that phrase or that I have a “too strong personality” more times than I can count.

Too intense.
Too passionate.
Too honest.
Too emotional.

I already hear that voice enough inside my own head. I don’t need it echoed back to me. And truthfully, FUCK THAT!

I’m not too much. I’m fully here, unapologetically me, alive, and genuine in a world that wants us to be quiet and compliant. If that doesn’t fit into someone else’s comfort zone, that doesn’t make me wrong. And it just means we aren’t a fit to exist in each other’s lives. I’m neurodivergent. ‘Too much’ is my middle name with how my brain works. I’m loud, energetic, feel deeply, and the universe decided to make me a Leo on top of all that.\

That said, I can still acknowledge my own setbacks and take responsibility when I fall short. Both things can be true at the same time.

I want to give my readers and listeners a real apology, not a performative one.

I know I promised new podcast episodes every two weeks and alternating articles here. Getting sick, navigating the holidays, and coordinating with guests disrupted that more than I anticipated. My guests come before any deadline. If I prioritized deadlines over their mental health or availability, I’d be contradicting the entire LI&I brand and mission.

Still, I am sorry.

Not in a guilt-soaked or self-punishing way, but in a human one. I care deeply about what I’m building, here and within the Lioness Ink & Insight brand. I care about the people who choose to be here with me and stay.

I’m finding my rhythm again. It may look slightly different than the original plan, but it’ll be sustainable and honest. That’s one guarantee I can give you no matter what. Every bit of content I put out will be raw, real, and honest. No performative bullshit belongs here!

This is me, behind the work.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for holding space for the human behind the author.

I’m still writing, creating, and always dreaming big all while resting when I need to, living a full and complicated life, and learning not to apologize for that.

If you’re tired too, I see you.
You’re not failing.
You’re human.

And that’s enough!

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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In this episode, I sit down with author S.C. Field for an honest, unfiltered discussion about how being made smaller affects us as people first, and how that quiet erosion can eventually shape, stall, or silence our creativity.

This isn’t an interview or a how-to. It’s two writers sitting with lived experience, naming the harm that’s not always obvious, and talking about what it takes to find your way back to yourself and your work.

If you’ve ever felt yourself shrinking to keep the peace, editing your voice to be more palatable, or struggling creatively without fully understanding why, this conversation is for you.

Thanks for stepping into this den with us. Grab a drink, get comfortable, and welcome to the pride.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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I thought launching a podcast was going to be simple.

Not easy. Just simple.

Pick a day. Record an episode. Upload it. Done.

That was very much not how launching Lioness Ink & Insight went.

I’ve never in my life listened to a single podcast. Never bothered with them. I knew nothing. But I had things to say, an opinion to voice, and a message to share with the world. So, I thought, that has to be enough, right? Well, I decided to find out.

I created Lioness Ink & Insight because of what it stands for. Quiet courage, strength, and me being a Leo, of course I picked the lioness! I wanted the name to fit the vibes, me, and what I wanted to share. I’m a person first, the lioness of it all. Then an author. And finally, a person with lots to say about everything. Each word in the name has its own meaning. Being a graphic designer, creating the brand, the graphics themselves, and logos, was the easy part. It’s what came next that truly tested my resolve.

Now I had to record my voice to share with the public… WHAT?! You mean to tell me having a podcast means I have to talk to… well… myself? Yeah. I decided not to do it live. My nerves couldn’t handle it. Well, in true Angie fashion, I procrastinated recording the actual episode. The excuse I told myself? I need the intro music first. Can’t record anything without that! (insert my own eyeroll). Cue a week-long procrastination party of one.

Common sense was not invited.

Originally, I wanted the incredibly talented Demi Michelle to do the intro music. She is an absolute sweetheart and was so patient with me, even while my neurodivergent brain completely failed at describing what I was hearing in my head. She gave me her time, her energy, and multiple attempts, and at some point I realized I needed to stop pushing. Not because she did anything wrong, but because my brain just would not cooperate.

I owe you, Demi. Truly.

I had planned to publish on Wednesday. I don’t even know why Wednesday. My brain just decided Wednesdays made sense for alternating podcast episodes and articles, and I went with it. Except Wednesday came and I had no intro music. No episode recorded. My head hurt. I kept thinking, why is this so hard? This should be simple.

By Friday, I finally accepted that I needed to pivot. I used a stock intro. Not because I loved it, but because I needed to move forward instead of stalling myself out completely.

And then came the real panic.

I was already days past when I said the podcast would launch. I was exhausted. I almost waited until Saturday just because I was so tired of thinking about it. On top of that, I was terrified to actually record myself. What if no one liked my voice? What if my lisp or speech impediment became the focus instead of the conversation I was trying to create?

I was a mess.

But at about 1 a.m. Saturday, I finally said screw it.

I opened my laptop. I hit record. I didn’t overthink it. I just talked.

When I finished, I closed my laptop and went to sleep because that was all I had left in me. I woke up a few hours later and immediately started editing. I stayed locked in until around 9:30 p.m. that night, tweaking audio, fixing things, second-guessing myself, and then realizing it was actually… good.

Not perfect. But real.

I uploaded it to Substack. Checked everything about twelve times. And then, a little after 10 p.m. Saturday the 20th, I hit publish.

The moment I heard my voice live somewhere, just me being myself, the knot that formed in my throat was unreal. I was excited in a way that surprised me. I kept thinking, that’s my voice. That’s me. I did that shit.

I thought I was done.

I was not done.

I still had to get the podcast up on Apple, Spotify, YouTube, YouTube Music, Amazon, iHeartRadio, Pocket Casts, and what felt like a thousand other platforms. I was wildly unprepared for that part. But somehow, between ADHD, odd sleep hours, and sheer determination, I got it all finalized by Monday.

All of this happened while I was also lining up an interview for a future January episode and prepping for The Agent Unveiled, which has some genuinely incredible voices joining the conversation.

And now I am sitting here writing this at a little after 11 p.m. on Monday.

So yeah. I did all of that in three days.

It was so much more than uploading a recording. It was stress, doubt, exhaustion, excitement, fear, pride, and a whole lot of “what am I doing?” mixed together.

But the best part?

I would do it all over again.

Because knowing my words are out there, knowing I get to have deep, honest conversations, knowing I get to help give other people their voices back in whatever small way I can, means everything to me.

So yeah. It sucked.

But it’s mine.

I did that!

And I would absolutely do it all over again.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

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Lioness Ink & Insight is not a niche podcast. It’s a living conversation. Some days we’ll dive into creativity or writing. Other days we’ll talk about identity, survival, joy, burnout, or whatever my brain is fixated on at two in the morning.

All of it matters. All of it belongs here.

Today’s episode introduces the heart of this channel, why it exists, and what’s coming next, including the debut mini-series The Agent Unveiled.

Thanks for stepping into this den with me. Grab a drink, get comfortable, and welcome to the pride.

- Angelia N. Bailey 🫶🖤

Follow me on X, Instagram, Bluesky, or Threads.

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Everyone says that like it’s enough.
But no one asks the question that actually matters.

Why.

Why do you want that dream?
Why did it take root inside you?
Why does it pull you across years and mistakes and heartbreak?
Why does it stay when everything else changes?

I didn’t understand my own answer for a long time.

I started writing when I was nine. My dad had left and my world suddenly had sharp edges I didn’t know how to hold.

Music softened the edges and held me instead.

Song lyrics made sense when nothing else did. So, I mashed pieces from song lyrics together and stitched them into a voice for myself. The pages were messy, but they were the first thing in my life that gave my inner world a doorway out. It was clumsy, amateur, but it was mine.

My uncle Bud and aunt Val read my first little creation. Their hands tightened on the paper, breaths hitched, tears gathered without warning. Something in my chest drew inward, almost painful from the sudden intensity. My eyes burned as if they needed to match their reactions but didn’t know how as my aunt Val pulled me close. Their emotion cracked a space open inside me I hadn’t known existed.

For the first time, I wasn’t drifting through my own life unnoticed. I realized words had power and could reach inside people.

The first small spark of my dream was planted and grew behind my ribs from the power of expression, small but insistent. If my voice could move one person, maybe it could move more. Maybe something inside me carried weight after all.

When I wrote my first poem at ten, I imagined handing it to my dad and seeing that same spark light in him. I pictured a smile that softened things between us. Maybe even tears that proved I mattered. Instead, he pushed the page aside with casual indifference. The air around me tightened. My chest ached in a way I tried to hide. I didn’t understand why he didn’t react the way my aunt and uncle did. Why was there no tears? No excitement or joy? Confusion circled in my young mind, sharp and restless. I didn’t understand how someone, a parent, could look at something born from my heart and feel nothing.
How could the same words hit one person like a storm and pass through another without a ripple?

Stubborn logic kicked in.
There had to be a way in.

So I chased it.

The years that followed carried a heavy weight. I slid into depression and stayed there far too long. I hated myself. My thoughts landed wrong with everyone. No one seemed to hear what I meant. I was misunderstood by everyone. Too much and not enough all at the same time. My brain became my own worst enemy. Then I discovered poetry and the outlet. It put air back in my lungs.

Poetry gave my neurodivergent self space to exist without being twisted or misinterpreted. Words emptied pressure from my chest, drop by drop, like draining a wound to stop swelling. My hands always grew steadier by the last line. My breathing smoothed. The chaos in my mind lowered enough to hear myself think. Poetry didn’t rescue me from anything. It simply kept me alive long enough to learn how to rescue myself.

It was survival.

At sixteen, I sat at my home school computer tapping random keys, desperate for distraction. Spellcheck turned the gibberish into a strange little sentence about a murder in a ballroom. Something along the lines of “T. Danforth poisoned the Vitale in the ballroom over knickers and vile blood.” It was absurd and made no sense. Except, the gears in my head began grinding and snapped awake. My thoughts jumped to the story behind the sentence, bright and immediate. A current ran from my spine to my fingertips.

This is mine.
I can build this.

I turned that spark into a seven page story and showed it to my mom. She skimmed it with a bored “cool” and handed it back. Her reaction barely brushed the surface of what I hoped for. The dismissal stung. But the hunger for a dream of my own had already sank its claws into me. A colder determination settled in my chest.

I doubled down and I wrote an entire novel. I turned that seven page short story with absolutely horrific formatting into a full length, 98,000 word novel.

While writing that book, the world around me softened for the first time in years. Writing became my quiet engine. Not for praise. For understanding. I stopped writing for other people’s reactions unexpectedly. My shoulders loosened. My breath moved evenly again in a way poetry never touched. The space inside my mind widened as if the walls had shifted back. I stopped waiting to be handed approval or pride that would never come. The page became the place where I didn’t need permission to exist. My stories no longer chased connection. They created it.

For the first time, the dream I wanted took on real shape. It quietly blossomed and kept me alive in ways nothing else could.

Adulthood arrived like a storm without warning. Trauma after trauma, loss after loss, days blurred. Some years breathing was like swallowing glass. My body grew heavy. There were days where I let myself rot away in my bed. Simple task left me drained. I was trapped. Unseen. Worthless. I was screaming on the inside and no one saw it. No one sat with me in the dark. Existing was too much.

My mind sank into a quiet, endless emptiness. Headaches throbbed behind my eyes. Thoughts tangled. I carried the weight of being alive without knowing where to set it down. In the middle of those years, I’d write sporadically. I’d reach for the anchor of expression. My stories were the only things that sat with me through the dark. Writing pulled me back to myself enough to keep me from drowning.

The roughest nights, I would’ve welcomed deaths cold embrace.

Then I created this character. A girl searching for her heart after losing it over time. She had to embark on a journey through trials and tribulations to find her physical heart, to rid herself of the cold that sank its teeth in her soul. Then I thought, she needs a family, the way I did. She needs a world that doesn’t carve her hollow.

And so Veilstrider was born.

The story that stayed. Held space for me when I coudn’t hold myself. Something inside me started to happen. Slowly. Quietly. Each chapter hurt to write. I ached for what I was giving a fictional character. Some scenes steadied my pulse. Others gave me just enough clarity to stand up again. The page didn’t judge me. It didn’t demand anything. It simply let me exist.

The world wanted me small and compliant. Wanted my body to be theirs to judge, mold, and control.

Fuck that.

This is my body. My voice. No one has the right to it besides me.

Reclaiming myself didn’t happen in a single sweeping victory. It came through small choices that stacked over time. Speaking truths I once swallowed. Taking space I used to surrender. Learning how to live without apologizing for breathing. A quiet courage built itself inside my soul, sturdy and unshakeable.

Through the pain and through Veilstrider came healing that ripped its way through every hard truth I finally faced. I was no longer only writing a story for fun, for light in the dark and relief from pain. I was writing the story I need. I was writing my own reclamation no one will ever take from me again.

It didn’t happen overnight. It was slow and gritty and real. But one morning, I looked at my reflection and recognized someone with a steadier spine, a fiercer gaze, and a life that finally belonged to her.

The lion woke. The woman that once was prey became an apex predator.

Now I’m thirty two.

My dream is no longer a whisper. I want to be a full time author. I want book tours and crowded rooms and real conversations with people who carry their own shadows.
I want my books to reach readers the way writing reached me when I needed it.
I want to turn my survival into something useful that lights a path for someone who doesn’t know where to step next. I want my truth to help someone feel less alone.

I’m here. I see you. My hand will always be ready for you to take it. I’ll sit with you.

I know what it’s like to sit alone in an endless mental nightmare. Hands limp in your lap. Breath shallow. Heart quiet. Guttural screams echoing in the soul. The world moving without you. Silence pressing down with nowhere to go. The kind of loneliness that steals entire years.

If my words can offer even a single point of light in that darkness, then my dream is already alive.

Dreams aren’t random.

You have to choose them. Day after day, even when it’s hard. Especially then.

They grow from old wounds and small triumphs and the moments that cracked us open. They start in childhood confusion while wanting to be seen, deepen through teenage desperation for a reason to stay, and sharpen in adulthood when we finally understand what we needed all along.

Writing gave me my life back. I turned my survival into purpose. All because I chased a single dream.

So ask yourself something real.

What’s your dream?
Where did it begin?
What part of you shaped it?
What do you hope to build, heal, or ignite?

And the most important question.

Why?

Because once you understand that answer, your dream stops drifting like a wish.
It becomes your compass.

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