So. This is my brain.
That little highlighted blob? Not decorative. There was a tumor sitting on my cerebellum — the part responsible for things like balance, coordination, and generally moving through life like a functioning human.
See all the space it was disrupting? That’s not great. Especially at the base of the skull, right near the brain stem. Prime real estate. Zero stars. Do not recommend.
And yes, it was living rent-free in my head—usually reserved for every conversation I’ve ever replayed at 3:13 a.m. with Sam. Rude.
Here’s the part that’s harder to explain: This wasn’t sudden.
There were traces of that tumor going back to 2013. They could see the edges on old neck MRIs.
So what happened? How did I go from writing nine books in two years to writing no books?
I’ll keep a long story short.
I suffered a slow decline. The kind that quietly drains your energy, scrambles your signals, and makes you feel a little unhinged before it ever takes something obvious like your ability to walk straight.
Looking back, my functioning started to slip at the end of 2021. 2022 was swallowed by gut issues. By 2023, my physical and mental health were getting trampled.
I was just too stubborn to admit it.
From that point on, every day was a little harder. A little more exhaustion. A little more static in my head.
In June 2025, we moved home to Chicagoland. During the move, I developed a migraine that would not quit. I don’t mean it lasted a few days or even a week. It started in June and lasted until after brain surgery in December.
Along the way, I woke up one morning and couldn’t lift my right foot.
Then I couldn’t lift my right leg.
Then my face started twitching.
My right eye drifted out and stopped cooperating.
Stubborn as I am, not even I could ignore that.
Eventually, a neurosurgeon removed what I lovingly call The Tumor of Dumb. (I remain terrible at titles.) It made me dumb. I couldn’t function. Stupid tumor.
Now my brain is slowly remembering how to brain again. And when I say slowly, I mean slowly. Slower than Tai Chi in molasses. I’m so impatient to be better but there’s absolutely no rushing a brain. Especially after a dozen years of a tumor smashing vital things.
But healing is happening.
I’m still here. And the words are coming back in waves.
I might only get a few good hours a week right now, but those hours are gold. My mind is clearer than it’s been in the last decade.
There will be more Trellisverse books.
I’m not committing to timelines or release dates yet, because I’m not putting that kind of pressure on myself. But I pinky promise — more is coming.
Did you loved the banter and fun of The Call but not the paranormal plot? There’s a romantic comedy series (still in Trellisverse) coming just for you.
We’re moving beyond lasagna to… cinnamon rolls. Bring on the frosting!
Big on romantasy? There are so many Trellis babies on the way who need fairy godmothers.
After that?
We’ll see.