Frequently Asked Questions
What inspired you to write the Ancient Language of the Earth series?
The idea for the Ancient Language of the Earth series began as a question. I was pursuing a Master’s in Environmental Humanities, and my course work involved a lot of depressing research about the ecological crisis we find ourselves in. I often wondered how, and why, humans became disconnected from the natural world that sustains us. One night, I wrote in my journal, what would it feel like to live fully, truly, as a human animal? The concept of the Anima grew from there.
When/how did you realize you had a creative dream or calling to fulfill?
I don’t know if there was ever a time I didn’t have a creative itch to scratch. As a little girl I loved to make things—forts, jewelry, paintings, cookies, you name it. If it could be made, I wanted to try. I even attempted to make an entire house one time out of cardboard and a leftover can of paint from the garage.
I loved writing as a child, and I would often create little books about animals, wild places, and magic. When I was in fourth grade, we were assigned homework to write a story. My teacher asked me to read mine for the class. After that, when people asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d say, “A writer.”
Birth of the Anima invites discussion of climate issues, feminism, sustainability, and the role humans play in the ecosystem. How does the novel’s use of magic serve that larger narrative?
The magic system on Aligaea lives in the connection between humans and the larger life force connecting us all. There’s Florávo, or plant magic, which any person, magical or not, can learn. The Shapeshifters exist as both human and animal. Salvagers find their powers in the ability to navigate the expanse of time and space.
And of course, there’s the Anima herself: the bridge between humans and all other vertebrates. The diverse expression of magic serves to remind us that we are all connected, and in this connectivity we may find our true power.
What do you hope readers will take away from the book?
My main goal for the Ancient Language of the Earth series is for readers to feel and appreciate their innate interconnection with one another and the natural world. I want them to discover, or rather rediscover, their kinship with “other,” (both human and non), and feel more deeply compelled to help create a more just and ecologically sound world.
Birth of the Anima focuses on the connection between humans and nature. How did your personal experiences inform these themes?
I was born and raised in what was then rural Montana. I spent my childhood in creek beds and mountain meadows; I believed magic existed in the bluebells, river stones, and pinecones I collected.
After college, I reconnected with my child self, spending months living out of my tent, rock climbing, skiing, and trail running. I feel happiest and healthiest outside, a sentiment I share with the millions of people (re)discovering the mental and physical health benefits an intimate connection with nature offers us.
How did you develop your characters? And which of them do you have the strongest connection to?
As many fiction authors will attest to, the process of creating characters is mysterious and organic. My characters reveal themselves to me at their leisure, and I’ll spend hours free-writing in an effort to get to know them better. It’s not unlike a relationship with a new friend: it takes time to understand a person, and even then, the person will continue to surprise us decades later.
I connect most with Elle, Freda, and Laurel, as I’ve spent the most time with them. Elle is like a beloved little sister to me, while I consider Freda an inner mentor. Laurel is the character who most closely reflects my inner world.
What is the best piece of advice you ever received from another author?
Melanie Rae Thon was one of the best writing teachers I’ve ever had. She encouraged her students to be curious. We would often do exercises that were ends in themselves. Her instruction to take risks and play on the page was the best guidance I remember receiving in my formal studies as a writer.
You have the chance to give one piece of advice to your readers. What would it be?
Ask questions about character motives and reasoning—morality within a story is rarely black and white, good versus bad.
What was the biggest challenge you faced in your journey to becoming an author, and how did you overcome it?
The biggest challenge for both writing and sharing my work publicly has always been and remains self-doubt and fear. The most potent and accurate metaphor I have for the relationship between my true self and my inner critic is depicted by Tolkein’s character Smeagol/Gollum. My true self is playful and curious; when this part of me writes freely, I create my best work. My inner critic, like Gollum, is deceitful and mean; it distracts me from accessing my (our) inherent connection to creativity.
I wish I could say I’ve overcome my inner critic, but the truth is that it will always be there, spewing falsehoods of unworthiness and deficiency. What I’ve learned, through diligent practice over many years, is how to recognize when the critic is speaking. For a painfully long time I mistook the critic for truth, and this manifested as procrastination and other forms of self-sabotage.
Meditation and journaling are the main strategies I rely on for the daily effort of managing self-doubt and fear. Meditation helps me better understand my mind and recognize when I am thinking and acting as my true self, and when other parts of myself, including my inner critic, are speaking. Journaling further helps me examine my thought patterns objectively.
What is your favorite book?
Dwellings: A Spiritual History of the Living World by Linda Hogan radically changed my perception of the supposed human-nature binary; I read it once a year. I also read the Tao Te Ching once a year. These two books are foundational in my personal ethos.