Cheryl Thibodeau

I had three dreams for my life. The first was being a mother. The second was living on a farm in the New Hampshire countryside.

After a few years of living on my farm with my son, it occurred to me that probably half of my life was behind me, and I hadn't yet gone after Dream Three: Becoming an author. I shelved that one for years, because the whole idea was scary. Telling my stories? Too intimidating. I thought I could be content with what I already had. After all, two out of three is pretty good.

But as is the way with our dreams, they nest in your soul and refuse to be silenced until you let them take flight.

These days, I spend all of my free time hunched over a word processor, creating imaginary worlds filled with characters who have their own story to tell.