People often ask me how I write so many books.
The honest answer is:
I always have.
Long before publishing, long before algorithms, long before trends, I was the girl filling notebooks, saving drafts on old Google and Yahoo accounts, and writing whenever life gave me five spare minutes.
I didn’t grow into writing.
I grew up with it.
I started creating stories as a teenager. I wrote between school, work, family responsibilities, and exhaustion. I wrote because I couldn’t not write.
It was never a hobby.
It was survival.

I didn’t publish my first book until last June.

Not because I hadn’t written the stories.
Not because I didn’t have the drafts.
Not because I didn’t have the drive.

I waited because I didn’t have the courage to believe I was worthy—worthy of being seen, worthy of taking up space, worthy of calling myself an author.

I’ve been writing since I was a teenager. I used to save drafts wherever I could—old Google folders, old Yahoo accounts—anything that could hold a story until I had time to come back to it. I wrote between school and work. I wrote in stolen minutes. I wrote because stories were always louder than silence for me.

Then COVID-19 hit, and life got smaller and heavier at the same time.

I wrote through pregnancy.
Through maternity leave.
Through school drop-offs and pick-ups.
Through sleepless nights and cold cups of coffee.

And I wrote through domestic violence—through the kind of fear and exhaustion that makes you forget who you are. In that season, writing wasn’t a hobby. It was my outlet. My refuge. My way of staying alive inside myself.

For a long time, I kept it private.
I told myself I wasn’t good enough.
I told myself nobody would care.
I told myself I should wait until I was “ready.”

But the truth is: I was ready.
I just didn’t believe it yet.

Last June, something shifted.

I finally gave myself permission to try.
To be seen.
To trust my voice.
To stop shrinking.

That decision changed everything.

I’ve always been a fast writer—not because I rush, but because stories arrive in my head like films. Scenes, dialogue, emotional arcs. Once I sit down, I’m translating what’s already there, and I’m doing it the way I always have: one honest sentence at a time.

If you’re new here, I want you to know this:

Every book I publish is built from real craft and real feeling.
Every story is written the old way—scene by scene, emotion by emotion.
And every time you choose one of my books, you’re not just supporting an author.

You’re supporting a woman who fought her way back to herself—and decided her stories were worth hearing.

Thank you for being here.

— Laura Carpenter