When I tell people ALL MY ROADS is a romance novel, I feel smallness and insecurity creep in. My inner critic says, “Why are you writing romance novels when you care so much about mindfulness and healing and inner work? Non-fiction would sound more educated and intellectual.”
I don’t feel small about the actual story I brought to life. I feel small because I assume the world’s perception of a romance novel is smut and drama and two unhealthy people being codependent. And for good reason. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong.
ALL MY ROADS has gone through A LOT of rewriting, revising, tweaking, and expanding. The story I wrote a year ago – the one I let a handful of friends read – is not the same story I’m editing today. (It’s the same novel, but much more intentional and less “drama for the sake of drama.”)
Ken and Stacey’s story was born out of my desire for expanders: people and relationships who model the sort of mindfulness and depth and connection I’ve sought my entire life, AND struggled to find numerous examples of in my day-to-day. Not because I don’t have wonderful family and friends! But because I’ve always been a hungry-for-more-while-loving-the-norm sort of person. And my social circle has historically been quite small.
Fiction, for me, is a huge source of inspiration and hope and growth and expansion. And as a writer, my characters are real in a way I can’t convey in words. My desire for this novel, and all future novels, is to tell a story of love, family, and friendship that models the rich possibilities of relationships. To unfold the work and beauty of pain and healing.
ALL MY ROADS is sexy and passionate and detailed…don’t get me wrong. But it’s also spiritual and nuanced and rich. It walks a path I wish I’d known existed when I was younger; one I hope to illuminate for others and myself. More on that to come.