Two Tracks. One Truth. (And Why I’m Not Retiring Any Time Soon)

This isn’t reinvention. It’s expansion for us all, especially women 55+, with clarity.

After I shared a new story, something stayed with me.

Not the story itself, but the feeling people wrote back about.

That sense of not wanting to leave.

(If you missed it, you can read it here.)

It made me realize I’ve been building something here without fully naming it.

Who I’m Here For

This is a place for women who have been the supporting character long enough.

I write fiction about women in their sixties and seventies who are navigating change, choice, and what comes next. This work matters because Baby Boomer women are not often given center stage. We are still curious, still evolving, still willing to change our minds and our lives. That doesn’t disappear with age. If anything, it becomes clearer.

I’m 73, and I’ve planned a five-book series called Women of the Canyon.

The Ongoing Track, Entry No. 1

In my 30s, someone told me I had too many interests. If I would just focus on one thing, they said, I’d be wildly successful. In my 40s, the language softened. I was “multi-passionate.” It sounded better, but it still carried the same message underneath, that something about the way I moved through the world needed to be managed or narrowed.

In my 50s, I found myself teaching others to focus. I even used a metaphor about train tracks. Stay on the rails. Don’t divert. Pick a direction and go. It worked for many people. But it never quite fit me, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t living it myself.

I have always had more than one thing going. At first it was about survival. Then it became curiosity. Over time, it became something closer to joy. I learned that what mattered was not choosing one track, but making sure the tracks ran close enough that I could still see the connection between them.

Now, in my 70s, I’m doing it again. Two tracks. Fiction, and something else that I didn’t set out to build but recognize now as equally alive.

I’m not trying to simplify that. I’m deepening it.

The Truth I Didn’t Expect

When I began sharing this work, I thought I was offering a story. That seemed straightforward enough.

But the responses I received weren’t about plot or structure or what would happen next. They were about the experience of being with these women. Readers told me they wanted to stay longer, to sit with them, to remain inside that space a little while more.

That’s when I understood something I hadn’t set out to discover.

I’m not simply offering a story. I’m creating a place people don’t want to leave.

Once I saw that, everything shifted. What I share, what I hold back, how I write, and how I continue all began to organize themselves around that understanding.

Track Two: What I’m Noticing As I Build This

Alongside the fiction, something else has been unfolding. It also wasn’t planned, and I didn’t recognize it at first. It showed up as short reflections, Notes, pieces of thought that felt complete enough to share but didn’t belong to the fiction itself.

They weren’t instruction and they weren’t meant to be. They were simply observations, written in the moment, as things became clear to me.

Women began responding to those Notes in a way I didn’t expect. They weren’t asking how to write a novel or how to structure a story. They were recognizing something in themselves. They wrote about remembering, about beginning again, about seeing a version of themselves they hadn’t given permission to exist in a long time.

“You’re doing what I didn’t know I was allowed to want.”

“I’m watching. I’m remembering what I still have in me.”

“I didn’t think it was possible to begin again. Until now.”

That’s when we all begin to pay closer attention. Or we need to be. I’ve been keeping notes for myself as I go, noticing what draws people in, what creates a sense of connection, and what allows something to continue rather than end.

I don’t think of this as a separate track anymore. It comes from the same place as the fiction. It simply reveals a different angle of it.

Two Tracks. One Truth.

I’m not choosing between these two tracks. I’m not streamlining or narrowing what this is. Both the fiction and what I’m noticing alongside it are part of the same movement.

One lives inside the story. The other lives just outside it, close enough to see what’s happening as it unfolds.

Together, they create something that feels complete.

For the woman reading this right now, whispering, “Me too.”

If You’re Here

If you’re here for the fiction, stay close. The next chapter is already on its way.

If something in the Notes has stirred something in you, you’re not imagining it. That thread is worth following.

And if you feel both at once, if you recognize yourself in the story and in the reflections around it, then you’re exactly who this was meant for.

This is the ongoing track. Not an ending, and not a pivot. Just the next mile, taken with a little more awareness than before.

Let’s go 🚀

I’m inviting you inside.

Fiction for free:

or join me for the parts that don’t make it to those pages.

The ones that might just feel like your own story, too.