MORE ABOUT US

Hi!

I'm Charla. Like most authors, I have dreamed of being a writer from a young age. My love for art has always been at the forefront of my life through writing, reading, music, and photography. 

I studied writing and publishing through my undergrad and went on to get my MA in Publishing. I have also studied creative writing and teach college English. (Yes, I can tell you EXACTLY what to do with that comma.) Writing was always my dream. In fact, I wanted it so badly that I refused to let myself have it for a long time. My flawed thought process was, "I can live with it staying my dream. It can exist in the ether like a twinkling star that I gaze upon relentlessly. But there it stays, shimmering in its untried, unmarred place. However, I cannot live with trying and failing. To fail at this would mean the end. An end I won't survive."

Word to the wise, don't tell the universe your worse fears. She will test them eagerly, wearing a devious smile.

Then I got older. I had children. I tried other careers. I spent so much time shoving myself into boxes and rooms I had to business in. Each time I did, my life seemed to only become more challenging and less fulfilling. 

When I began my master's program, I altered the dream a bit. I slid ever so closer to it with the mindset of, "I will be the editor. I will be the path that others can walk across to get where they are going. I am a nurturer, a friend, and a mentor, and I will do that in the writing world." 

Armed with two degrees, a sick love for CMOS, grammar, and formatting, I opened my own editing business. And do you know that the following month, Shrike would pour from me like a freshly dug well, and I spewed the words. I felt alive—the most alive I have ever felt. The two months that I drafted and finished this novel (because I refused to finish the countless others I started over the years) were the absolute best months of my life. I woke each day on fire, burning with stories and emotions I had never allowed myself to freely feel. I was alight, anew, transformed. I thought, "Yes, this is how I could spend the rest of my life. This is the feeling I want to anchor myself into." 

So, after three months, two drafts, and with only my darling husband having read it, I didn't allow myself to think before I began to query. And let me tell you, as a woman who believes she must do everything perfectly the first time, I took to research. I soaked up everything I could learn about the process that does not exist in formal training (an issue I am working to rectify). My first query letter? Let's hope it never sees the light of day, and I offer my official, most sincere apologies to the agents who had to read it. However, I didn't give up. I evolved. I reworked and troubleshooted my letter until it ended up being deemed "perfection" by my agent. (Spoiler alert.) 

By December, I had received my first offer, and by the end of January, I had received two more offers and signed with my DREAM AGENT. 

Now, something everyone should know about publishing: it doesn't give a shit about your plans. 

I was fresh on submission and in the inboxes of my dream editors in April when my publishing journey not only came to a full stop but did an about face and ran the other direction full speed. And without getting into the nitty gritty details, I thought it was over. I thrashed and screamed and begged to know WHY? If I had gotten this far, if I could taste the success, see it not so far into the distance, why the change?

Because I apparently only learn lessons the hard way. And the lesson I had to learn was that I had done enough, and I needed nothing outside of me to "prove" my worth. Still, I threw my pity party, I cried all the tears, and I walked away. I sat in the absence of my dream until I didn't recognize myself. Then salvation came. Salvation in the form of selfless, loving, devoted women who picked me up, dusted me off, and told me exactly who I was, what I was capable of, and reminded me that this was far from over. 

I dried my tears, laced up my armor, and sharpened my teeth. And with that, I am eager to announce I will be self-publishing SHRIKE in October of 2025. After all, why not use that really expensive degree? 

Why am I offering all this? I am a teacher at heart, I suppose. But more importantly, I am and will remain a transparent woman, eager to help all those behind me a hand to guide them on their journey. Though I have learned to do that for myself, I will never stop helping others. I have been there, researching authors, wading through the query trenches, learning the ins and outs of the industry. I have felt the solitude of embarking on this terrifying, treacherous, beautiful journey, and I want others to know they are not alone. 

I am a perpetual dreamer and hopeless romantic. I love fantasy, romance, speculative, a regency fiction. I love to communicate through feelings, trauma, shared experiences, and hauntingly beautiful writing. My goal is to make my readers feel seen, heard, and above all else, loved. 

Shrike is a small part of my soul, my journey that I want to share with the world. So, this is me, heart split open and bare to the bone in vulnerability, daring you to take a look. 

Charla