I chickened out of majoring in English at the University of Michigan. I loved to read and dreamed of being a writer, but I was afraid. Afraid I wasn't good enough. Afraid that no one would be interested in what I had to say. Afraid I had nothing to say. Afraid I wouldn't be able to support myself on a writer's salary. I chose one of my other interests, psychology, and then went on to get a master's degree in social work from Wayne State University in Detroit. 

Not that I had any allusions about making a great salary as a social worker, but I had stability, variety, flexibility, and the opportunity to help people - a way to contribute to making our world a better place. Social work was a detour on my writing path, but it greatly expanded my worldview. Honestly, it blew the doors off my safe, sheltered childhood and plunged me into real-life stories of hope and despair, triumph and heartache, pain and resilience.

I worked at a runaway shelter and counseling center in Michigan, a mental health clinic and schools in Georgia, a program for children with developmental disabilities in California, and a hospital/home-visiting program back in Detroit.

I liked connecting with people and learning their stories. But I soon realized I was nearly the only social worker in existence who liked paperwork. While my co-workers procrastinated and complained about the drudgery and abundance of paperwork, the favorite part of my day was when I could hunker down in my office and write. Essentially, I was writing people's stories in the form of assessment reports and progress notes. And I began to remember my dream of being a writer. Finally, I had something to say.

So here I am at the intersection of social work and writing. Please take a look around, read my writing, and send me a message - I'd love to hear from you.
Thanks for visiting!
Kristin